Chapter Text
On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
crystal tears, that fall slowly.
౨˚.˚.˚.˚.˚.˚ৎ
Rumi didn’t leave her room at all the next morning.
The pictures of the vest, Derpy’s eyes and Mira’s subdued expression had been burned into her brain permanently.
She told herself it was because she was tired, because the guilt from yesterday had settled into her bones like lead and made every movement feel impossible.
But really, it was cowardice, she realized.
Plain and simple.
Rumi was not ready to face Zoey, who had tried to include her. She was not ready to face her eomma, who had been nothing but gentle with her or Celine who was trying to help someone in need.
And Rumi was not ready to face Mira just yet, who she had been so mean to for no reason at all.
Rumi sighed as Sussie trotted towards her and then to the door and back as if he was trying to tell her something.
She ignored the gnawing feeling inside her stomach and grabbed her headphones, scrolling through her Spotify lists, putting on another one of Jinu’s old sweatshirts.
Rumi laid down on her bed again with her headphones clamped over her ears, volume cranked high enough that the bass thumped in her chest like a second heartbeat.
Trying everything to drown out her complicated feelings towards Mira and Jinu.
It felt like she couldn’t separate them now.
Was she really angry at Mira? Or was she actually angry at Jinu?
Did her heart beat faster whenever she thought of Jinu’s smirk or was it now beating louder because of Mira’s small smile.
“Aggghhhh!” Rumi screamed into her tiger plush.
Why was this so complicated?
The playlist she chose was angry, loud guitar riffs, strong vocals and songs that Jinu used to hear.
His favorite band came up, Xdinary Heroes with their song ‘Fire (My sweet misery)’.
Rumi remembered how he had fan-girled over Jungso, one of the singers.
“Forever you and I, we’ll burn in fire, fire.”
It was fitting, wasn’t it?
Rumi burned Jinu and now his ghost was burning her too.
And her fire was trying to consume Mira in the process.
She skipped every slow track that came up, anything that might let a softer feeling creep in.
MeloMance with ‘Love, Maybe? Skip.
Leehi with ‘Only’? Skip.
Noel with ‘Late Night’? Skip! Skip! Skip!
Sussie sprawled across her stomach, purring despite the noise leaking from the headphones. Every so often he’d lift his head to stare at the door, ears twitching toward whatever was happening downstairs.
Rumi pretended not to notice, even when he head-butted her again, trying to get her to move.
‘You can’t lie in bed all day. Jinu wouldn’t want that.’ Sussie seemed to say as he meowed at her.
“You don’t know that…”
Rumi could feel the tears in her eyes forming again.
‘He would want you to be happy again. And maybe, just maybe, you can have that chance with someone new. Someone like Mira.’ Sussie meowed again.
“You’re a cat. You can’t know this.”
Sussie meowed again, louder, his head bumping into hers.
“And now I’m talking to a cat…”
Maybe Rumi was slowly losing her mind.
She looked back at the door, taking the headphones off and pausing the song that was just blasting through it into her ears.
Something was in the air.
Rumi sniffed and there it was.
The house smelled like brown sugar and vanilla with a hint of cinnamon wafting through the house.
Rumi could smell it even through the closed door, sweet and warm, the kind of scent that usually dragged her out of bed whether she wanted to or not.
Today it felt like an accusation, though.
Her favorites. They were making her favorites? But…
Her eomma and Celine were baking.
From the smell of it, their infamous Christmas cookies for the foster agency office that Miyeong made every year.
Last year there were dozens of perfectly shaped snowflakes and stars and little trees, iced with careful precision, some with cute little figures on them, others with the names of her co-worker. Always a couple extra ones she stashed away for them with their names on it.
It was her quiet way of saying thank you to the people who kept finding places for kids like Zoey, who had nowhere left to go. And like Mira.
Rumi rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head and curled into herself. She didn’t want to think about Mira.
But the house wasn’t big enough to escape the sounds from downstairs entirely. Even as she put the headphones back on, the music blasting loudly again, she caught fragments of their voices.
Zoey’s bright and high-pitched laughter, her voice bouncing off the walls as she was telling them another one of her turtle stories, her eomma’s softer replies and Celine’s chuckle, the occasional low murmur that had to be Mira.
And underneath it all, the rhythmic clink of metal trays, the whir of the old stand mixer that Celine had gifted Miyeong after having to bake more than two hundred cookies three years ago and not wanting to do that kind of work ever again and Derpy’s happy huffing as he probably circled the kitchen hoping for dropped dough.
Rumi turned the volume up another notch.
Maybe she would deaf.
She must have dozed off at some point, because when she pulled the headphones off hours later with a ringing in her ears, the house had gone quieter. The afternoon light shone through the curtains, golden and almost lazy. Her phone showed her that it was 2:47 p.m.
Rumi had wasted the whole day hiding.
Sussie was gone now, the door slightly ajar, probably downstairs mooching attention or treats and some pets from the otehrs.
Traitor.
Her stomach growled. Rumi realized she hadn’t eaten since the few bites of hotteok yesterday.
Rumi sat up slowly, rubbing her face and stretched, trying to be more awake.
The mirror, the position of it in the room cursing Rumi as Zoey had said, across the room showed her what she expected; puffy eyes, messy hair, Jinu’s sweatshirt hanging off her small frame.
She looked like someone who didn’t belong here.
Rumi stood up and cracked the door open.
The smell of freshly baked cookies, vanilla and cinnamon were stronger now, maybe even some of Zoey’s favorite american gingerbread, and something like honey. Yakgwa?
Rumi heard her stomach growl again.
Voices drifted up from the kitchen, low and steady and Rumi tried to make as little noise as possible to listen in.
Rumi crept to the top of the stairs, sitting on the landing where she could hear them without being seen. An old habit from when she was little and wanted to listen to her eomma and Celine talking late at night.
Zoey wasn’t carrying the conversation for once.
“…so I just roll it like this?” Mira’s voice, quiet but curious.
Her eomma laughed softly.
“Exactly. Not too thin though or they’ll burn. You’ve got good hands for this.” Miyeong hummed, her tone was warm and approving.
Rumi imagined Mira now, her brows drawn together in concentration as her eomma looked over her shoulder.
“You’ve done this before?”
A long pause.
Rumi inched closer to hear better.
“Not really. My last place… we didn’t bake much. Mostly takeout?”
It sounded more like a question than an answer. Like Mira assumed takeout was the right answer to Miyeong's question but wasn’t quite sure. Rumi wondered again how the situation for Mira was before her eomma took her in for the holidays.
Did her parents not take care of her? Was her foster home abusive? Was she like Jinu, a stray, who lived on the streets until someone finally adopted her?
Another pause.
Rumi could almost picture her eomma’s gentle nod.
“Well, you’re a natural. These stars look perfect.”
Zoey chimed in, bright as ever.
“Mira’s good at everything!”
“Zoey…” Mira’s tone seemed embarrassed.
“She helped me beat level seven this morning in New Super Mario Bros U, the one with the stupid ice turtles! I’ve been stuck on it forever… maybe because I felt bad kicking the turtles off the platform…”
Mira laughed softly.
“You did most of the work. I just told you to spam the fire combo. My brother used to…”
Mira cut herself off suddenly.
A brother?
So Mira had…?
“... I’ve already beat the level with someone.”
Zoey’s voice was softer now, not asking Mira about the slip up.
“Still! Teamwork makes the dream work.”
There was the loud sound of an oven door opening, the rush of warm air carrying more scents up the stairs and Rumi’s mouth watered despite herself when she could smell the sweet honey from her favorite eomma’s Yakgwa.
Did Mira make them?
Rumi stayed in her spot up the stairs a little longer than she meant to, knees drawn to her chest and listening to the easy rhythm of them working together. Mira didn’t say much now, mostly giving them short answers, carefully not giving out anything that seemed to be something, or someone, from her past.
But she didn’t sound uncomfortable.
A bit more open than yesterday evening.
Zoey, sweet little Zoey, filled every gap with chatter now about games, about school that Rumi and she went to, about how Derpy had tried to “help” her with her secret stash of of beef jerky, by licking them all when Zoey had opened the bag earlier and earned himself a timeout in the laundry room by Celine as she spotted the two.
Miyeong laughed quietly.
“Poor baby, did no one feed you? Were you starving?”
A loud bark echoed through the house and Mira chuckled.
“He’s lucky he’s cute.” Zoey sighed.
Another bark and a low meow.
“Rumi would’ve murdered him if he had tried to eat her snacks, her snacks are sacred...”
A beat of silence.
Rumi’s stomach twisted painfully.
Then Mira said very softly; “She doesn’t like me much, huh?”
No, no, Mira.
Another silence. Longer this time.
It’s not…
Mira did…
And Rumi thought…
Rumi held her breath, her thoughts in a mess.
And then Miyeong’s voice broke through the panic, gentle but firm.
“Rumi’s been through a lot this year. It’s not about you, Mira-yah. She’s… protecting herself. Give her time.”
Mira stayed silent.
“Can I ask…I just want to understand…” she started but she could hear eomma interrupting her.
“It’s not my story to tell. I’m sorry, Mira.”
Zoey jumped in quickly.
“She’ll come around, Mira. She was distant when I first got here too, with everything that went on with my own parents…but then we became best friends."
Silence.
“She just…”
Zoey struggled with the words.
“...she just needs more time.”
Mira’s reply was almost too quiet to hear. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Rumi pressed her forehead to her knees. The words landed like a saingeom piercing her heart.
She stayed on the landing until the conversation shifted towards safer toppings, the icing colors that Celine had brought, whether sprinkles were overrated or not (Zoey thought that you could never have enough sprinkles), and how many trays they’d need to fill all the tins that Miyeong had to bring.
Eventually, Rumi's hunger won. She crept downstairs, aiming for the fridge without being noticed.
But the kitchen doorway gave her the perfect look at all three of them. Her eomma wiping down the counter, Zoey decorating cookies with all the colors of the rainbow (and way too many sprinkles) while Mira slided the last tray into the oven with careful precise movements.
Derpy lay nearby, wearing a flour smudge on his blue forehead like war paint. And to Rumi’s surprise, next to Sussie who gave her an amused look. Or as amused as a cat could look, Rumi guessed.
Zoey spotted her first.
“Rumi! Finally! Want to help decorate the rest? We saved some snowflake ones for you!”
Rumi hesitated in the doorway.
“I was just… getting water.”
Lie.
Her stomach growled and Zoey raised her eyebrows.
Miyeong glanced over, expression soft. No judgment, just a quiet welcome for her to join the fun.
“There’s fresh yuja tea in the fridge if you want something cold to drink.”
Mira didn’t look up right away. She closed the oven door gently, set the timer, then wiped her hands on a towel. When she finally met Rumi’s eyes, her smile was small and careful.
“Hi.”
“Ehm…Hi.” Rumi mumbled.
An awkward beat.
Zoey, bless her heart, shoved a cookie toward Rumi's mouth, making her gag and Mira chuckled.
Zoey’s technique was questionable but no one could argue with the results.
Mira’s laugh was beautiful.
Rumi’s ears felt hot.
“Try this one! Mira did the icing on it, look, it’s a little cat face, like Sussie!”
It was. A slightly wonky tuxedo cat with yellow icing eyes. Actually pretty good.
Said cat looked up from his place next to Derpy and blinked at them.
‘Take the cookie, she made this one just for you.’ he seemed to say.
Rumi took it.
“Thanks.”
Mira shrugged, cheeks pink.
“First time making cookies. They were supposed to be snowflakes but I got bored and well...”
She gestured towards Rumi’s cookie.
“It’s cute.” Rumi said before she could stop herself.
Mira’s eyes widened slightly, surprised at the compliment. Then the corners of her mouth twitched, lifting, just a little, but there was a real smile forming on her face.
Zoey beamed, a little smug, like she’d orchestrated world peace. Which, Rumi guessed, she kinda did.
Miyeong handed Rumi a glass of yuja tea without comment, then went back to packing the cooled cookies into tins for work. The silence that stretched between the four wasn’t comfortable exactly, but it wasn’t hostile either.
Rumi leaned against the counter, nibbling at the cat cookie. It tasted like cinnamon and honey and way too much sugar. Perfect.
“You’re good at baking. And decorating." she said eventually, nodding at the tray Mira was finishing.
Neat swirls, tiny stars. The wonky Sussie cat.
It was like looking at an artwork.
Mira glanced up, her smile still there.
“Art class. Last school had a good one. Before…” She trailed off and shrugged again.
Rumi hummed and Mira continued.
“Practice, mostly.”
Rumi nodded. She got it. Before.
She joined Mira at the counter, taking some of the icing and some sprinkles and starting working next to her in silence, looking at the other girl’s work, copying some things here and there.
They worked side by side for a while, Mira finishing the last tray for Miyeong, Rumi stealing some cooled cookies from Mira’s tray when she thought no one was looking. Zoey narrated everything like a sports commentator next to them, from the decoration to the stealing and to the silence that followed when Rumi’s stomach started growling at them. Miyeong hummed along to the low radio Christmas music, throwing them a few glances.
It wasn’t perfect. Mira was still cautious towards Rumi and her eomma was still trying to give her space. It wasn’t fixed. Not even close. But it was… something. A new beginning, maybe.
Later, after the kitchen was cleaned and the tins stacked for delivery tomorrow, Rumi retreated towards her room again. Not hiding exactly, but just needing space to sort out her feelings. She helped carry trays to the counter, even laughed once when Derpy stole a single sprinkle and looked immensely proud of himself, before Mira had to wrestle it from his mouth.
Mira caught her eye as she headed upstairs.
“Thanks for the help.” she said quietly.
“I didn’t really…” Rumi began but Mira interrupted her.
“You did.” Mira’s voice was soft.
Rumi blinked and gave Mira the first real smile.
“It was nice. I…”
Rumi felt her face heat.
“I needed that. Thank you.”
She fled before she could say something stupid.
౨˚.˚.˚.˚.˚.˚ৎ
The house was quiet now.
Sussie breathed out slowly on the windowsill.
And Rumi couldn’t sleep.
She laid in the dark, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that Celine had helped her stick on the ceiling years ago, when she was still afraid of the dark. They’d faded but still showed up if you left the lights off long enough. She counted them for the hundredth time now.
At some point the clock on her phone read 2:58 a.m.
Rumi turned again, her thoughts racing, trying to get more comfortable.
Then she heard it.
Soft, muffled crying.
Rumi sat up, trying to locate the sound.
And there it was again.
Coming from the guest room across the hall.
Not loud, more like someone trying very hard not to be heard. Stifled sobs, the occasional shaky breath.
Rumi froze.
Mira?
A few minutes streched by before she heard soft feet padding on the floor.
And then there was a scratching noise at her bedroom door. Soft but insistent. Then a low, worried whine.
Derpy.
She sat up slowly, her feet hitting the cold floor.
Sussie lifted his head from the foot of the bed, ears forward.
Another whine, more urgent now. The scratching paused, then resumed, careful, like he didn’t want to wake the whole house but needed something from Rumi specifically.
Rumi’s heart started pounding.
She knew what this probably was.
The vest. Cardiac alert.
Derpy was trained for this exact thing,when something was wrong with Mira’s heart.
Was Mira…?
Rumi felt frozen in place, not being able to move a muscle.
The crying from the guest room had stopped, replaced by uneven breathing and the creak of bedsprings, like someone trying to curl tighter into themselves.
Derpy whined again, louder this time. A pleading sound.
Rumi sat on the edge of her bed, hands clenched in her lap.
She could go out there. She should go out there. Knock on Mira’s door. Ask if she was okay. Get Miyeong or Celine if it was bad.
Do anything.
But her legs wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry, Rumi. But Jinu…”
Fear clawed up her throat, sharp and familiar. The same fear from a year ago, when everything had gone so wrong where she hadn’t done enough, hadn’t said the right thing, hadn’t stopped it.
Her own breathing came out heavy and it felt like the room dimmed a bit. SHe couldn’t make out the stars anymore.
What if she made it worse? What if Mira didn’t want her there? What if she panicked and froze and something terrible happened because she was useless?
The whining continued, heartbreakingly now.
But Rumi couldn’t breath.
Sussie jumped down from the bed, padded to the door, and looked back at Rumi. His yellow eyes narrowed. Then he unmistakably hissed. Low, angry, scared and directed straight at her.
Rumi flinched.
The surprise made her more clear headed.
Sussie never hissed at her. Never.
He sat by the door, tail lashing, staring at her.
Derpy scratched once more and then went quiet. There was just a heavy dog breathing in the hallway now.
After a long minute, another set of soft footsteps walked down the floor.
The crying had stopped.
Mira, light and careful.
“I’m okay, buddy. Come here.” she whispered and Rumi felt herself relax.
She was still shaking, but hearing Mira’s voice…
Derpy’s tags jingled as he went to her and Rumi heard the door closed again.
Silence.
Rumi just sat there. Frozen as her breathing slowed down.
Sussie returned to the bed eventually, but he didn’t curl up against her like he usually did. He gave her one last look before taking back the windowsill, his back turned towards her, tail still twitching.
Rumi pulled the tiger plush to her chest and stared at the ceiling at the faded stars.
She didn’t sleep at all for the rest of the night.