Chapter Text
Stress.
It was a sensation that Rumi knew intimately, a growing pressure in her heart that made her mind race and body tingle with excess adrenaline. So, it didn’t concern her when the sensation came when she started Mira and Zoey’s training and never left. Not at school, not at home, not even in bed.
Opening her eyes before the sun even rose on day 15 of feeling stressed, her body felt too warm, and her muscles had an ache that settled deep into the tissue. It was a horribly novel sensation, but Rumi was determined not to let it bother her.
Slipping off the air mattress slowly, flinching at every plastic squeak, Rumi got ready for the day. It was Sunday, and as she looked at Zoey’s sleepping form, contorted around several of her plushies, she let her sleep in.
Padding out to the living room, the day started with stretches with the fish, lunges mixed with what Mira called ‘White woman yoga on steroids.’ The fish watched every move, getting more energic in their tank as she neared the end of her routine. How they already knew it was breakfast time. Rumi couldn’t figure out. The fish swam like a pinwheel of reds, whites, and oranges as her routine ended with her bending backwards and touching her ankles. Walking into the kitchen, she opened the curtains, started Nana’s coffee pot, and pulled bloodworms to chop up from the fridge.
A tingling ache made her flinch, knife shaking in her grip.
‘I’m fine,’ she chanted in her head.
Continuing the morning chores checklist in her head, pushing away the nibbling desire to lie down. Unload the dishwasher, grab the mail, feed the fish, go for a few short jogs around the block, and set up the blobfish mug right in time for Nana to come stumbling out of her room in her Sunday best, a white sundress with purple trim.
“ehe ehe, Mija, you should be asleep.” Nana scolded, “I can do these things when I wake up.” She snatched up Rumi’s cheek to give it a squeeze before straightening up with a concerned expression, moving her hand to press on Rumi’s forehead. “You are running warm. Slow down today, okay?”
“Yes, Nana.” Rumi lied effortlessly. A part of her horrified that she had lied to Nana, but the quick memory of that first demon hunt shut down those thoughts. It was only luck that every demon hunt since Rumi could handle on her own, with only a few demons crawling out.
She didn’t notice Nana’s skeptical look. “Sweet girl, I’ll be helping with Sunday school today, so I’ll be back about 10AM. How does the two-dollar theater sound for the afternoon, Inside Out being screened? I heard that was good.” Nana poured out her coffee, her eyes not leaving Rumi.
The half-demon was caught between two warring sides. That her hunters needed a break after trying so hard, and that they couldn’t take one without making progress. An evil thought slithered past. ‘It’s my fault that they haven’t summoned their weapons.’
At the sight of Rumi’s patterns tinging magenta at the edges, Nana snatched up Rumi’s purple fingers. “You need a break. We are going, decision made.” Nana added her declaration by pulling Rumi against her side in a half hug.
“I’m fine.” Rumi huffed, cheeks tinting.
“And I’m the pope. Self-care is important, Rumi.”
--
On screen, Riley's control panel was darkening, her emotions desperately trying to pull out the idea of going back to Minnesota. The theater was dark, but out of the corner of her eye, Nana could see Zoey leaning forward, checking Rumi’s face. A vertebral light show was shining under the blanket that Nana had originally brought for herself since theaters were cold but threw over Rumi about halfway through the movie.
Nana sat in her seat, kicking herself that she hadn’t looked up the plot for the movie.
Sadness pulled the idea from the control panel, and Rumi let out a choked gasp.
Mira joined Zoey in watching Rumi with a very concerned expression, tears even shining unshed in the pink hair girl’s eyes. Nana had to think that was some sort of miracle.
Rumi flinched, pulling the blanket up to her chin as Riley ran back home, an electric yellow pushing out the deep blue. Reaching over, Nana ran soothing circles on Rumi’s forearm. Gold replaced brown in Rumi’s eyes as she watched on with a roller coaster of emotions.
The sight of Riley’s parents not yelling at her but embracing her put Rumi over the edge. Tears came down in huge streams as she curled up impossibly small on the cheap, torn-up red seat. Leaning over the armrest, Nana pulled Rumi into a tight hug, letting the young girl sob it out at the 2 Dollar Theater.
Zoey hissed as the credits rolled. “Nana!”
“I’m sorry, I really should have learned after UP.”
Waiting for the few other patrons to leave the theater, they coaxed Rumi up and out of her seat with the promise of all the ice cream she could eat. Keeping the chunky gray fabric knitted blanket tightly wrapped around her because the patterns across Rumi’s body had not slowed down.
“Na.. Lori, Rumi’s tail is out.” Mira spoke up. The back of the blanket rode up as Rumi’s tail shook around like an over-pressurized hose. The half-demon whined pathetically as she reached back, trying to wrangle her own tail, letting the blanket shift off her head to reveal her horns were out too.
“Ruru, it’s okay.” Zoey whimpered, wrapping Rumi in a tight hug, making the girl sniffle with another onslaught of tears.
“I knew we should have trained; this is the honmoon punishing me.” Rumi’s voice wobbled, her lips trembled, and her eyes were big, watery, golden globes. “I can’t do anything right!”
Nana pulled the blanket back up before rubbing Rumi’s back. “Don’t say that. Let’s get you home and to that ice cream.”
Rumi followed them, her emotions crashing into her body, one after another. All the things she had been pushing down about her life before them were now bubbling up. The desire to feel Celine’s hug, and the knowledge that she couldn’t remember the last time Celine genuinely hugged her for more than a second. It had been tutoring, school, and demon hunts for years. Day in day out of non-stop movement.
Rumi felt herself drifting in her mind; she barely registered them sneaking past the kids struggling to hide all their bags of bargain bin candy in a backpack already crammed with a whole two liter of coke. She noted Nana, Mira, and Zoey’s concerned faces as they hid her in a bush so Zoey could run in and pick up an actual tub, with a handle, of ice cream. The tub didn’t even label what 3 flavors it was.
She only came to when Mira plopped her down on the couch in the living room and gently tapped her cheeks. “Rumi, ya there?”
“Here!” Rumi mumbled like she was in class, her voice croaked, and she had to breathe through her mouth because her nose wouldn’t cooperate.
From the way Rumi sounded, Nana sped over, putting the back of her hand between the horns sprouting out of Rumi’s head, humming with concern. “Zoey, go find the Vicks vapor rub, Rumi, I think you are stress sick.”
“Or regular sick, that school's gotta be ground zero for several diseases.” Mira quips.
“I’m fine!” Rumi tries to stress, but a ripple of green bounces through her patterns followed quickly by a coughing fit. A deep, scratchy feeling was settling inside her lungs that Rumi had never felt before in her 16 years of existence. Mira slid her phone out of her pocket, a familiar worry on her face making Rumi rasp. “Mira, I didn’t make a deal, so none of that applies, and I don’t get sick.”
“Are we sure?”
“Positive.”
Attempting to get up off the couch, at the idea that she could just sweat this out, crumbled as her body keeled forward, forcing Mira to haul her back onto the couch and pin her there.
Zoey swung back into the room with a massive blue jar that smelled so strongly of mint, the smell got past the clog in Rumi’s nose. Cracking it open, Zoey sounded like Nana as she soothed. “Alright, I’m gonna rub some of this on your throat and chest, Rumi.” She didn’t listen as Rumi tried to say she didn’t need it, but another coughing fit left her feeling weak.
The grayish-green jelly made Rumi’s skin feel tingly everywhere it was rubbed. Zoey was rambling as she smeared it on. “This stuff is the best, should help you feel better. We could put on a turtle documentary and feed you the ice cream. Oh, I can grab all the pillows and blankets, and we can make it a little sleepover in the living room. The couch pulls out, and cuddles are the perfect cure.”
“Please, Rumi.” Mira's voice didn’t have its usual deep tone; now gentle and pleading. Her thin eyebrows bunched up.
Rumi didn’t trust her throat, so just nodded. Zoey sprung into action, running to their room like a bottle rocket. Mira followed much slower, her face still set in a frown of concern. Nana adjusted the T.V so the couch had the best viewing angle before walking over to Rumi, quietly asking as she ran a hand over the young girl’s cheek. “What’s wrong, Mija?”
Rumi looked down, ashamed, her patterns flickering a burning magenta. There was a wanting part of her that yearned for a hug and to feel the warmth while pretending it was Celine. She missed Celine; she missed her Imo, but she couldn’t tell if it was because she actually missed her or if she missed the idea of her. Another part wanted so desperately for Nana to take that spot, to be more than just the kind woman that’s taken in the wayward demon. How could she demand more from this woman, when her very presence had put Zoey in danger, put her actual granddaughter in mortal danger? The third most evil thought wanted to wrap her hunters in bubble wrap and take on the demon world on her own. At least then they would be safe. She would lose no one ever again.
Tear ducts that should be dry by this point stubbornly sprouted more tears, making Rumi’s own tail hit her arm and leave a mark. A soft hand pressed it down, and Rumi looked up to see Nana with a worried but kind look. “Rumi, you can tell me.”
“I’m fine.” The words wobbled, and her patterns burned with more shame.
“Silly girl,” Nana said as she sat down beside Rumi on the couch, her deep brown eyes intently scanning Rumi’s face before a smile slowly blossomed. Warmth spread through Rumi as Nana reached up and pulled the young girl in a tight hug. “I care, so please let me help you carry your burdens.”
“I can’t.” Rumi sobbed, her arms shaking as she wanted to hug Nana back, but fear wrapped around her willpower like a choking vine. “I shouldn’t. Our faults and fears must never be shown.”
Nana hummed a soft melody, leaning back to pull Rumi even farther into her lap, while her thin, wrinkled fingers worked out the purple braid. “Can’t say I agree with that.” A broken purr escaped Rumi as the stress leaked out. “It is those faults, those fears that make people who they are, to never show them is to never show people who you are.” Nana freed the last of Rumi’s hair and hooked the underside of Rumi’s chin to bring her head up so their eyes could meet, her thumb brushing away the tears. “A true diamond is identified by its inclusions, by its faults. It’s their story.”
“I’m failing them, Nana.”
“That’s what this is about; it will come with time.” Nana's voice was even and confident. “I bet they will summon them right when they need to. I have faith.”
The rest of her truth sat in Rumi’s heart like a hot iron, but she couldn’t let it out. Couldn’t ask for more. Not when she doesn’t deserve it. So Rumi let herself slump completely, hoping Nana couldn’t press.
Silence fell between them.
Zoey came back with so many pillows and blankets; she couldn’t be seen beyond the mound of fluff. Mira followed her, carrying at least 10 different stuffed animals. Nana left them to make pozole in the kitchen, whispering something to Zoey as she left. The couch, whose color was still a mystery under all the knitted blankets, truly disappeared. It looked more like a bed when they were done.
“Ok, turtles first, something nice and soothing after Inside Out, next Rumi, what’s your comfort show?” Zoey said as she snuggled with Sheldon the turtle, her side pressed into Rumi’s.
“I didn’t really have time for much T.V or movies, but when I was little, my Imo let me go through her old VHS. It’s been so long, I don’t even remember their names.” Rumi answered, hugging a tiger shark plushie.
“We need to change that, right, Zoey?” Mira chuckles, leaning back with her hands behind her head, pink turtle sitting on her lap.
“Right, I’ll think of the best thing while we learn about turtles.”
“You mean me and Rumi learn, I bet you’ve seen this before.”
“SHHH!”
By the time the turtle documentary credits rolled, they had heaping bowls of pozole with the promise of ice cream right after. Mira had brought out her laptop and hooked it up to the T.V. They scrolled through all the options because Mira had every streaming service imaginable. Pausing every few scrolls, the two hemmed and hawed over all the choices.
“Kill me, Heal me?” Mira paused over the K-Drama, shrugging her shoulders.
“Mira, she just got destroyed by Inside Out, seriously no K-dramas today!” Zoey scolded, making Mira wince with realization. Grabbing the mouse they had propped on a textbook, Zoey hovered over a picture with three mermaids. “How about H2O?”
“Oh yes, let’s have her watch something about people being forced to hide what they are. Don’t let the sea life distract you.” Mira reached over Rumi and flicked Zoey’s nose, earning a yelp. With a few more scrolls, Mira proposed, “What about Game of Thrones?”
“Rumi will combust and Nana will try to burn the T. V,” Zoey deadpanned. With a few more scrolls, she stopped and grabbed Mira’s arm. “Supernatural — it’s about fighting supernatural beings, we could get ideas.”
“Fuck it. Let’s go.”
“LANGUAGE!” Nana scolded from the kitchen, newspaper crinkling as she clipped out coupons.
“Sorry, Nana,” Mira yelled back before a blush colored her cheeks as she corrected. “Lori.”
All they heard was a pleased chuckle from the old woman.
Rumi joined in the chuckle. Heart feeling a little easier with every beat, but the earlier ache in her muscles hadn’t eased but migrated deeper, and she wondered if she could even stay awake during the show. The first episode played, showing a cute little baby with their brother and parents. Mira panicked. “Zoey! Skip past the first scene; Rumi will show you later.”
The scene quickly skips forward, Rumi only seeing flames as they fast forward to what looked like a party scene.
About halfway through the episode, Nana came in with ice cream. Rumi couldn’t tear her eyes away as she blindly grasped her bowl. The tip of her tail happily wiggled as she watched someone else have to live her life. Live through the horror and the fear.
Zoey hides behind Sheldon as the woman in white appears on screen. Mira seeing this, lets her smile curl into an evil grin, reaching over Rumi to jab Zoey’s shoulder. The scream that escaped Zoey, only gods and Rumi could hear.
As the episode slowly wraps up with Sam driving the car into the house and the woman in white being confronted by her own dead children, Rumi murmurs. “Please tell me there’s more.”
“Oh, Rumi,” Zoey cackles. “This show is still airing; it's been going for like 10 years.”
Rumi’s tail buzzed, and she reached over to press ‘Next episode’ the second the option appeared.
--
The next day came faster than Rumi would have liked. If she thought she felt like crap yesterday, today was 10 times worse. A whole-body ache had settled into her bones, body dripping with sweat even as she shivered, and her demonic features hadn’t settled overnight.
A thermometer wiggled in her mouth as Nana waited for the reading, Zoey and Mira watched on with worry. “102, that’s it, Rumi, you are staying home.”
For once, Rumi did not argue, just gave a tired nod, which had Nana's eyebrows shooting up. The idea of Rumi finally giving in to not doing work had Nana fearing that the half-demon was a lot worse off than she appeared. Like a cat hiding its injuries until it was impossible, “Mira, how are you on your studies?”
“I’m already ahead.” Mira spoke with confidence. Years of private school, with A’s being considered just barely passing, had prepared her to easily sail past anything thrown her way. She honestly was trying harder so her parents wouldn’t pull her back to South Korea.
“Stay home with Rumi, make sure she stays in bed,” Nana said as she straightened her aquarium uniform. A navy shirt with gold thread reading out ‘Aquarium of the Pacific.’
“Can I stay home too?” Zoey pleaded, clasping her hands together. “Please.”
Nana raised a brow; lips tilted to the side. “How many assignments have you missed already?” At the full-body flinch, Nana flicked Zoey’s nose. “That answered it. Go to school, Zoey.”
Nana left the room as she heard her ride beeping their car horn out front.
Zoey got ready with a frown that only deepened as Mira promised Rumi that they could watch all the Supernatural episodes she wanted, Rumi patterns fighting off the sickly green color to shimmer a cheerful yellow. By the time Zoey was fighting to get her sneakers on, Rumi was on the couch bundled up like a burrito, head square in Mira’s lap, purring happily as she watched Dean fighting for his life on the T.V.
“Rumi, you are too cute for this world.” Zoey said, patting Rumi’s head.
“Seconded,” Mira added.
Rumi just gave them a dazed smile, her eyes a little unfocused as her body broiled with the fever.
The bus passed by, and Zoey bolted, shouting as she closed the door. “Feel better, Rumi.”
Running after the bus. It didn’t occur to Zoey that the amount of harassment from her bullies had sharply declined after Mira’s stunt with Gabby. It didn’t even cross her mind as she settled into a seat, headphones on as she rocked out to TWICE, doodling in the corner of a journal. It did occur to her as a whole water bottle’s worth of water splashed over her head, drenching the journal, bleeding ink between the pages.
“[Oops, hand slipped].” Gavin’s cocky voice slipped past her music.
All around the bus, people snickered as Zoey sank a little further into the bench seat, glaring up at Gavin and his crew.
The rest of the bus ride tested Zoey’s limited patience as she heard Gavin talk about Mira like an object. Like she was something to claim and own. If Zoey hadn’t learned from years of trying to fight back against Gavin, she would have decked him right then and there. Without Rumi and Mira on her side, she couldn’t take Gavin and his crew on.
The day, of course, got worse once they arrived and news spread amongst her bullies that Mira and Rumi weren’t there. Every hallway became a covert mission to blend in, to hide from the bullies scanning for her. Gabby caught her between 2nd and 3rd period, tripping her up and stealing just one shoe, tossing it onto the lockers. A teacher, of course, did not see that, but Zoey, trying desperately to climb up to get her shoe back. It took all of Zoey’s willpower not to whine about how unfair it was to be given a stern talking too while Gabby walked free. 3rd and 4th was Lucas’s turn, following her with his trumpet making it sound like she was farting with every step.
By the last period, Zoey felt her brain could cook bacon with how fried it was. She sat in the back of the class, practicing under her desk to summon her weapon, hopefully something not too big. The teacher was droning on and on about the economics of Colonel America. It was mind-numbing. Nearby, she heard Gavin whisper flirting with Gabby. ‘If those two have kids one day, humanity should turn in its smartest species alive shirt.’ Zoey thought with a frown.
“[Now the tea tax was blah blah blah.]” Zoey's brain tuned out the teacher completely.
With one hand still flexing under her desk for something, while the other flipped through the pages of her waterlogged journal. The lyrics to the song she had been working on since Rumi sang those first few notes was taking shape. As the full song filled up a page, Zoey gnashed her teeth at the empty spot taunting her. She wanted to include their name. The only problem…..
Their group was still nameless.
Scribbling in ‘Hunter’ for now, Zoey sat back to see her first whole song shining on the page. It had a great hook and a smooth bridge. It had the confidence that Zoey wanted in herself. A master of her art that no one dared question. Letting her mind wander, she saw herself commanding a stage with Mira and Rumi beside her. Able to share herself wholesale with fans, rapping with a ferocity that had people leaning towards her and not away. She would be enough and not an ounce too much.
A weight settled into her hand, smooth, and something like thread was tickling her knee. Leaning back, Zoey saw a sharp blade glittering blue and pink in her hand with a golden tassel. Her mouth dropped open as she twisted the blade back and forth.
“[Zoey, something to share with the class.]” The history teacher’s stoic tone shattered her amazement.
“[No, sir]” Zoey leaned forward with a wide grin, dropping the blade into her open backpack.
The smile wouldn’t drop off her face even as her classmates gave her odd looks; Zoey's imagination ran wild. She could see herself pulling the blade from her bag, Rumi’s sickness evaporating as all their hard work finally took a solid form. The bell rang, and Zoey scrambled to stuff all her things away. Skipping to the door; she could run all the way home with all the energy buzzing in her body.
Gavin shoulder-checked her from behind, tone oozing with contempt. “[Sorry, freak.]” He walked ahead of her, laughing, turning left to the football fields. Clearly making his way to the old rickety barn just beyond them. The old farm owner was fighting the city tooth and nail to keep it despite his farm not producing a crop in years.
Sucking in a breath through her teeth, Zoey powered forward towards the buses. Repeating a singular thought.
‘I summoned my weapon
I’m a real hunter now
I am a hunter
I’m a hunter’
Just as her foot touched the bottom step of her bus, a magenta ripple went through the honmoon; the sea of blue threads shimmered over every surface in sight. It felt like something was tugging on her hand, tugging her towards the football fields. In the distance, a pink glow backlit the wooden barn, the little red paint disappearing in the glow, and the sun seemed to grow a little dimmer.
‘I’m a hunter,” Zoey repeated aloud, bile rising in her throat at the memory of the first demon attack. A rush of adrenaline made her arms shake against the doors of the bus.
“[Zoey, come on],” the old bus driver scolded before yelping, “[Wait,]” as the short girl bolted away, towards the football fields, spinning and twirling around the crowds of students still streaming out of the school.
The pink glow got brighter while the sun's luminosity steadily declined as Zoey leaped over the fence surrounding the football field. Weaving between football players as they came out to practice for Homecoming, Zoey pressed on. A sliver of her heart wanted to slow down, let Gavin suffer for all the pain he caused her. The kinder part of her heart had memories flickering through her mind before the pressure of fitting in had twisted Gavin into who he was now. The Gavin she had gone to elementary smiled in her mind’s eye, the one that found Korean food interesting, and would watch anime with her at his house so she could escape her parents fighting.
Leaping over the broken white fencing, Zoey panted as she plowed through old hay stalks; an eclipse could be happening with how dark it had gotten. Skidding to a stop, she could hear Gavin screaming, “[What the fuck are these things?!]”
Rumi’s voice rang in Zoey’s ears. ‘Another thing is the Honmoon sooths people’s minds. It has its limits.’ She needed something the honmoon could use. Mind working, she knew Gavin wouldn’t believe a word she said. Snatching up an old abandoned hoodie lying on some barrels, Zoey hoped the brown splotches were mud. With the hood up, Zoey vaulted onto the barrels before scrambling for the window of the brown barn. Landing in the old storage area hanging above the barn’s dirt floor.
Inside, Gavin and his crew were back-to-back, no longer looking like the strong wannabe gangsters as their shoulders shook and tears budded up in their eyes. Three demons with unnatural bright blue skin surrounded them, 4 eyes to share between them. Giddy growls rumbled in their chests as they stepped forward.
Zoey was out of time to think. The demon’s jaws were dropping open, and blue orbs glowed in the chests of her bullies. “[Alright, I think they got the message!]” Face turned, so the hoodie covered her from view, Zoey pressed on, deepening her voice. “[What do you guys think of the makeup we are testing for the Halloween show? Too effective?]” Seeing the way Gavin’s pants had darkened between his legs, Zoey laughed deeply. “[Never mind, got my answer. One of them peed their pants, alright, runoff. We need to prepare for the next group.]”
The demons lowered their claws, tusked filled mouths agape in confused shock.
Gavin's face flushed pink. He stammered while his hands tried to cover the wet spot in his jeans. “[You stupid theater kids. That’s it, I’m beating your ass.]"
Zoey whipped out her phone and snapped a picture. Taunting in a deep tone, “[I said buzz off or I’m printing this and putting it up all over school.]”
A squeak escaped Gavin, shoulder checking a demon as he and his buddies ran for the sliding barn doors. Weak sunlight glowed on the ground as the demons looked up at her, shock transforming into rage.
Digging in her backpack, Zoey taunted. “I ain’t defenseless, yo… you…” she felt her notebooks, calculators, pens, but no blade. It was gone. “Can you just like, go back… hehe no?”
The demons looked around for a ladder before one just bull-rushed into the support column under Zoey, making the whole barn shake as the wood splintered under the demon’s white horns. She stumbled, her backpack falling to the ground, and that section of the platform slumped down. Scrambling to the back of the U-shaped platform, Zoey’s legs shook with adrenaline and fear. Flexing for another blade, Zoey cursed as her mind wouldn’t stop racing with all the ways she could die. The other side of the U crashed to the floor as the support splintered under demon claws
Rotten pieces of wood harmlessly bounced off Zoey’s head as the roof sagged. The only thing holding it up was a center beam about 5 feet from the edge of the platform. A light bulb sparked as the wood under her feet shook as the demons slashed at its last support. “Honmoon, if you are listening, now is the time to help.” Zoey cried out before sprinting to the edge. The honmoon glowed under her, the sound of someone singing with an ethereal tilt swelled into the barn. Leaping, the honmoon rushed up to carry her to the beam; her fingers burned as she clung to the rough wood, splinters digging into her skin. The platform behind her collapsed completely, sending dust and hay into the air like snow.
The demons circled under her like feral dogs, drool dripping from their tusks. Zoey taunted as she shimmed up the beam. “Come on, try and get me.”
One snarled, slashing into the beam, the whole barn shaking as bits of wood piled up on the floor. Shifting on the beam, Zoey eyed the open door. With the honmoon swelling upwards again as the ethereal singing got louder, lyrics floating in, but Zoey couldn’t make them out beyond the sound of wood groaning.
The beam buckled, Zoey kicking off from it just as the roof gave way, riding the Honmoon down like an ocean wave. The demons shrieked in fright as the back half of the barn collapsed on their heads. Remembering Rumi’s lessons, Zoey rolled from shoulder to hip on the ground, letting her feet naturally spring up as she finished the roll. The railing for the doorway bent under the additional weight, but it didn’t buckle, leaving the doorway and a few feet of barn left standing.
Reaching out for her weapon once more, three blades slotted into her hands. Swirling white lines shimmered in the blades. Zoey let her mind run on adrenaline and instinct, stomping forward as the first demon tried to crawl from the wreckage. Blade number one plunged into its forehead, pink dust being all that remained. The other two didn’t even escape the wreckage before Zoey’s blade found their eyes, keeping one blade still in her hands.
The ethereal singing abruptly stopped as Zoey stumbled back, the honmoon settling under her feet. She chuckled madly to herself before collapsing to the dirt floor of the destroyed barn, spreading out like a starfish.
“ZOEY!” Rumi crashed into the door, clinging to it as her patterns burned green, face splotched in red as her chin dripped with sweat from baking under the jogger and hoodie she was in. Pushing off from the door, Rumi reached out for Zoey. “You’re okay!” Behind her, Mira screamed, “YOU FUCKER!” coming in like a raging bear, tackling Rumi straight to the ground.
“You stupid sick idiot!” Mira scrambled to her feet, pulling Rumi up by the front of her shirt just to shake her around.
“Guys,” Zoey wheezed, exhaustion pushing on her chest like a 200-pound weight.
“I had to,” Rumi mumbled deliriously, clawed hands uselessly gripping Mira’s forearms.
“NO! I would have figured out something!” Mira held Rumi up with one hand twisted in the sick girl’s pajama shirt while the other bunched into her pink hair.
Forcing her feet under her, Zoey stumbled to them and held her blade right up between them. For a moment, no one moved, before Mira asked with astonishment. “You did it?”
“And killed like 3 demons.” Zoey smirked, her arms falling to her sides like limp noodles.
The green completely disappeared in Rumi’s patterns, golden light igniting in the jagged markings. Ripping out of Mira’s grip to wrap Zoey in a tight hug, Rumi laughed as she twirled the shorter girl around. “Zoey, you are brilliant! You are so amazing! I’m so proud of you.” On the third twirl, Rumi felt dizzy, careening to one side.
The blade turned to stardust in Zoey’s hands as muscular arms wrapped around them both. Mira squeezed them in a hug. “Wow, Zoey, you really are something special.”
‘Don’t cry,’ Zoey chanted in her head, tears welling up in her eyes, lip quivering. Her heart felt fluttery in her throat as the horrible day washed away to something magical. Burying her head in Mira’s shoulder, she smiled as wide as she could.
“Zoey, let’s close your first tear.” Rumi murmured, pulling them along.
The tear was only the size of a doggy door when they got to it, just on the other side of the collapsed barn from the school. Rumi explained, “The Honmoon must have been naturally closing it still, Zoey, try to re-summon your blades and slash through it.”
This time, Zoey fingers just had to graze the edges of the honmoon. The humming sound of metal rang through the air as a single blade appeared. Slashing through it, the honmoon stitched over the tear in a basket weave shape before settling into its normal ripples.
“Teach, I’ve got some catching up to do.” Mira elbowed Rumi lightly, surprise lighting up her face as the half-demon almost stumbled to the ground. “Dammit, Rumi, are you running a fever again?”
“No,” escaped Rumi, but as Mira went to check her forehead, she corrected. “Maybe a little.”
Without a word, Mira positioned herself in front of Rumi so that she could carry her piggyback style. At the sight of a flicker of argument, Mira glared with all the ferocity that she could manage. Sighing, Rumi saddled up onto Mira’s back.
“You feel like a furnace.” Mira grumbled. “Zoey, pull her hood up so no one sees her horns.”
“Yeah, where’s her tail?” Zoey asks.
“Stuffed under her pants,” Mira explains, annoyance laced in her tone. “Sick idiot scrambled to get dressed in this before booking it. I barely teleported with her. I think we might have scared the piss out of someone in the bathroom when we crashed into the wall.”
“It might be worth it to find a janitor’s closet.” Rumi’s voice was muffled as she pressed her forehead into Mira’s back.
Anger ebbed into concern, Mira using her thumb to rub into the side of Rumi’s leg. “Let’s get you home.”
“Shit, my bag.” Zoey flinched as she looked back at the barn. “It’s somewhere under all that.”
With a sigh, Mira lowered herself to set Rumi against the barely holding on front of the barn. The exercise routine Rumi had them under was already bearing fruit as Mira lifted parts of the roof, Zoey scrambling under until she found her bag. Just as they walked into the weed-covered fields surrounding the barn, people came running up from the school, shouting and cursing, making the girls book it.
They didn’t stop running until they were back on the streets, cars whizzing past them. Mira adjusted her hold on Rumi’s thighs. Zoey walked next to them, oddly quiet, while her eyes danced back and forth. Mira wanted to ask if she was alright, but before she could, Zoey yelled. “Exterminator Hunters!”
“What?” Rumi craned her head up, looking at Zoey bleary-eyed.
“I’m still trying to figure out our band name; I need it for our song!” Zoey proclaimed, kicking a rock further down the road. Around them, houses gave way to businesses. Small shops that held onto the American dream with withering hands. Zoey kept her head down as she chewed on her lip; Rumi dozed off, while Mira kept her eyes alert, ready for any threat.
“It’s feeling so real now. How long will the honmoon last before it needs us to start, you know, being idols?” Zoey rambled, now kicking three different rocks continuously down the road. “The sunlight sisters haven’t been big since…” Zoey checked to see Rumi had dozed off. “Since Rumi’s mom died, they had a resurgence in plays in memorial, but that’s it.”
“There’s a chance there is a group in between.” Mira theorized, helping Zoey kick one rock when she missed it.
“None have been as popular as the Sunlight Sisters; they were global Mira! No K-pop group has ascended to that level since.” Zoey paused, her steps faltering. “If we don’t succeed like they did, will the honmoon fail?!”
“Zoey!” Mira's voice was stern. “Don’t; that pressure will kill us. Look what it's done to Rumi.” As if to emphasize Mira’s point, Rumi whined softly in her sleep, the markings across her body burning with a little more heat.
“Sorry, you are right, as always.” Zoey mutters.
“Nah, let’s not forget my following Rumi that first time.” A shiver ran through both their bodies at the memory of that first attack.
Continuing their walk home, music peppered their ears, short little bursts of classic and improvised songs. A little sandwich board came into view; a hand-drawn chalk guitar was below a sign reading ‘L.A. Vintage Gear’. At the little bursts of music, Rumi purred in her sleep. One guy passing by raised an eyebrow, but a quick glare from Mira kept him walking. Pausing in front of the door, Mira smiled softly as Rumi purred louder at the songs coming from artists testing out guitars inside.
The outside of the shop was unassuming, barely having any presence when smashed between a bakery and small office building. They had one small window and door to their name. The inside, just from what Mira could see, was rich in character. Brick and woodwork walls covered with hundreds of guitars of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Amps lay below them, just as colorful. A full drum set sandwiched against a wall, turning the small shop into a one-way.
Below the shop sign was an advertisement. Mira stepped forward; the smell of lacquer wafted from the open front door. It looked like it was for a film festival, but the fancy font was messing with Mira’s ability to translate. “Zo, mind translating.”
“Los Angeles Drop the Beat Music Festival.” Zoey read out, eyes going wide as she read out. “Gain a spot for the first time ever, talent show held by UMG!” hands flying to mime shaking Mira’s shoulders, Zoey looked close to foaming at the mouth. “Kick me in the coochie; it’s in 2 weeks.”
Zoey paused for only a second before her eyes burned with determination. “I’m signing us up.”
“Zoey, no!” Mira whined. “We don’t even have a name yet!”
“Zoey, yes, this has to be fate!” Zoey's smile looked slightly evil as she disappeared into the shop.
“Rumi, never get sick again.” Mira grumbled, leaning forward in defeat. Looking away from the chaos inside to admire the half-demon slumbering on her back. “You are gonna have a fit when you wake up.”