Chapter Text
Gold overtook the bright blue of the Honmoon as the final notes of Golden echoed through the stadium. The audience exploded into applause, and Rumi’s chest heaved as she recovered from the intense performance.
The light of the new Honmoon reflected off of every surface. The fans, the stage, the sequins of her jacket—everything was bathed in the glow of a new era. Rumi could feel her pulse throughout her body, strong and fast and powerful, the rush in her head drowning out the energy of the crowd.
They had done it, at last. The barrier that had been carefully maintained for centuries was now sealed, impermeable.
No more demons.
For the first time in Rumi’s life, the sleeves she wore as a shield no longer felt like protection. They became a heavy weight on her shoulders, an unnecessary burden as the fabric rubbed against her skin, hiding parts of her she no longer needed to keep secret.
She reached towards the edge of the jacket, ready to pull it off of her body and reveal herself to the world, but she hesitated. Her chest tightened.
What if they aren’t gone?
She forced the thought away, but her hand retreated and instead settled into a wave at the crowd as she spun around towards her friends. Mira smiled wide, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, barely suppressed. Next to her, Zoey’s flowed freely, rolling down her cheeks and shining gold.
Rumi said nothing, cognizant of the microphone pressed close to her mouth, but she made sure the look in her eyes was one of gratitude and love for her friends. Both girls nodded back at her.
The rest of the Idol Awards was a blur. The girls chugged water as their competition performed, barely saying a word to each other between gulps and ragged breaths.
When Huntrix were announced as the winners, they took the stage again, giving a tearful speech to the large crowd lit by the golden barrier. It was all very rehearsed, and left little time to think anything at all during the ceremonies.
Rumi’s jacket hung heavy on her shoulders, hiding her hopefully-now-clear arms. Through it all, the unanswered question crept through the seams of her mind, slipping through the gaps and poisoning the joy of the moment.
Afterwards, they snuck backstage, hiding away from the crowds. Assistants and techs scurried around in the dark, packing up props and tearing down sets, but it was the first time the three of them could finally relax away from the prying eyes of the public.
“I can’t believe we finally did it,” Zoey said, voice high with excitement, cutting through the noise around them. “Only hunters to ever turn the Honmoon gold!” She started to sniffle again, then burst into tears and barely comprehensible rambles about her love for the other girls.
“I can totally believe it. We’re awesome.” Mira grinned. “This is definitely the coolest thing I’ve ever done.”
Zoey wiped her face with her arm, cheeks glistening with a combination of tears and glitter. “It’s like… we can do anything we want now.”
She gasped, causing Mira’s gaze to snap onto her, full of concern.
“I can finally release my turtle rap album!”
Mira rolled her eyes, wrapping an arm around Zoey’s shoulders. “Absolutely not.” When Zoey pouted, she added, “not ‘cause I don’t love it. I do. I’m so down for it, after we get a freaking break.”
Their hiatus had been delayed when Rumi released Golden early, and though they were happy to support her decision, Mira had been desperately (and loudly) dreaming about uninterrupted couch time since.
Rumi smiled as she watched her friends chatting with each other, heart warming at their excitement. Their arms were exposed, both of them having shed their jackets immediately upon exiting the stage, and Rumi longed to join them. Just as soon as she made sure she was like them. Clean.
“I’m gonna get changed, then we can go and have a couch night?” She offered.
“Sounds awesome,” Mira responded, turning back to Zoey to discuss movie-watching plans for when they finally became one with the couch.
Rumi turned and headed towards her dressing room, forcing herself to keep a walking pace. The moment she moved out of her friends’ line of sight, she broke into a sprint until she was inside the room, door slammed closed and bolted shut behind her. She leaned against it, taking deep breaths to try and steady herself.
The dressing room was lined with mirrors, giving her views of herself from every angle. Her hair had started to come loose, with baby hairs and a frizz halo flying free, and the sequins of her jacket sparkled once again under the harsh lights.
Her eyes remained fixated on her reflection as fingers fumbled their way to the metal clasp. She watched the girl in the mirror unhook the fastening, and stared as her hand grasped at the edge of the fabric and started to pull, slowly revealing the skin underneath.
Her heart stopped. Her thoughts went with it, too. She lost track of time.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
Her patterns were still there.
“No,” she gasped. “No, no, no, no… it can’t… we sealed it…” her voice softened and died out. Her legs crumpled and she collapsed to the floor.
The marks were darker than ever, an ugly purple marring her skin. They burned with shame, a familiar feeling that only worsened as she stared. Her gaze stayed locked on her reflection, and she saw the girl—herself—finally, for what she truly was. She looked into the mirror, and the demon looked back.
She curled in on herself. I tried to fix it… to fix me… why isn’t it enough?
Her chest ached. She pressed her fingernails into one of the patterns, as though she could rip them out of her skin. She was supposed to be free.
What if I’ll never be clean?
She stayed that way for too long, silently praying that she was wrong, that the patterns were somehow gone and this was a nightmare. But every time she opened her eyes, there they were, like a stain that would never wash out.
She didn’t know how long she’d been there, spiraling, when she heard the knocking.
“Rumi? You good? Car’s almost here.” Mira’s voice carried easily through the door, snapping her back into the moment. She scrambled to remove the rest of her outfit, all while the demon festered inside of her.
She pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
They’ll see this. They’ll know what you are. It didn’t even sound like her own thought anymore. It was darker, crueler.
T-shirt.
You thought you could hide this?
Hoodie.
They’re going to find out you lied.
She threw the door open, panting a bit. Mira was standing right outside, arms crossed, waiting.
“Ready?”
Rumi nodded.
When they do… they will never forgive you.
When they finally made it back to the penthouse, Mira flopped down onto the couch and deflated like a balloon. “God, I’m so glad I’ll never have to see a demon again, you have no idea.”
“Me too. We never have to see one more disgusting demon face!” Zoey mimed stabbing one to death, grinning.
The demon stirred under Rumi’s skin.
You are everything they hate.
“I’m gonna shower, then we’ll celebrate.” Rumi let out a shaky laugh. “I’m sticky and gross.” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, starting off towards her room. If she lingered too long, Mira would see straight through her, and Rumi couldn’t risk giving her even a second longer to look.
She showered as quickly as possible, doing everything she could to avoid looking at the marks on her body. Her shame seared at the layers of her skin, drawing her attention back to them until she turned the water heat up high enough to sting and turn her red.
After her shower, she toweled her hair as dry as she could and pulled it into a loose messy braid.
Her patterns were spreading; she could feel them slowly snaking their way down her torso. She covered up quickly, long sleeves and pants as pajamas. Anything to keep her friends from seeing.
You can’t hide forever.
She tried to shake it out of her head.
Every moment you stay, you poison them.
Today was supposed to be a win for all of them, for Huntrix and the world. She’d never seen her friends happier.
But she’d also never felt so strongly that the work Huntrix did wasn’t meant for her, and never had been.
They were going to find out. Who she was. What she was.
That she’d lied for so long.
That their victory had been in part due to a demon, the very things they had dedicated their lives to destroying.
They’d never be able to look at her the same. They would look at her and see what she saw. A monster.
Each moment blurred into the next, and even though she could hear the faint sounds of conversation and laughter elsewhere in the apartment, she’d never felt further away.
The voice pressed harder. You should leave. Let them keep the memory of who you were.
Her eyes drifted to her backpack, a small yellow bag she’d kept packed since she was just a kid entertaining the fantasy of running away. The idea had lived in the back of her head for years, sometimes fading, but never truly going away. The bag was still packed, ready to grab and go if she ever decided she wanted to follow through.
You did your job. They don’t need you any more. You’re just a demon.
Her throat tightened.
Just one more night.
Their penthouse was dim, lit only by a few lamps and the glow of the Honmoon through the windowed walls, gold still shimmering faintly. Mira sat sprawled on the couch in her polar bear sweater, a blanket thrown lazily across her legs. Zoey was curled up on the other end of the couch with a notebook in her lap, tapping her pencil against it while mumbling lyrics about turtles.
Rumi sat in between them, knees pulled up to her chest. Mira had thrown on a movie they’d all seen a million times, and Rumi played along. She laughed when the others did, shoveled popcorn into her mouth when the bag was passed her way, and gave suggestions whenever Zoey bounced lyric ideas off her. It felt like home, like the three of them belonged together here.
For brief moments, she almost believed it.
But then her arm would move, and her hoodie would brush against her patterns and remind her who she truly was. A liar. A demon. A terrible friend.
Zoey tossed her notebook to the side and stood up, inserting herself between Mira and Rumi and flopping down. “You’re all so far away. Get in here.” She grabbed their arms and pulled them in to a hug.
“Dude, you’re getting too sappy. We’re almost at the good part.” Mira’s free hand brought a pillow flying towards Zoey’s face, and all three girls erupted into laughter.
Rumi’s chest swelled with love.
This is what you can leave them with. This memory, this warmth and laughter and joy. Give them this, then leave before you ruin it.
She forced a smile and listened the other girls reacting to the movie, switching from cheering to booing and throwing popcorn at the screen with a practiced fluidity. After the movie ended, the conversation devolved further, into Mira ranting about other groups copying her style and Zoey complaining about a lack of viable rhymes for “tortoise.”
She wanted this moment to go on forever. It all felt so easy, so calm.
But it wasn’t hers.
Soon, Mira’s voice was the only one left as Zoey’s mumbles turned into snores. Zoey drifted off on Mira’s shoulder, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.
Mira yawned. “Yeah, me too, Zoey. I’m ready for bed.”
Rumi gave a quick nod.
This is it.
“We should all get some sleep. Lot to think about for the future tomorrow, right?” She asked. She didn’t know how to say goodbye. She didn’t know how to tell them to move on. That she loved them, that they had been the best thing to ever happen to her, that they deserved better than her.
Mira stood up and slid her arms underneath Zoey, picking the sleeping girl up into a princess carry.
“For real. I better get this one to bed so she doesn’t drool all over our couch.” Mira’s voice was affectionate, and the corner of her mouth turned up as she looked down at Zoey’s closed eyes. Her body shifted to face Zoey’s bedroom.
Mira glanced back at Rumi, their gazes meeting, and Rumi’s breath caught in her chest. She was sure for a moment that Mira could see exactly what she was thinking and planning.
She should’ve played it cool, calm, collected, her usual self, but she stood up and moved towards Mira. Her arms wrapped around both her and Zoey, and she buried her face into Mira’s shoulder.
“I’m so proud of you.” Her heart quickened and her mind was tearing itself in two, half terrified that Mira would see through her and stop her, half desperately hoping that she might. “I’m proud of Zoey, of us. I don’t know who I would be without you all.”
Mira stiffened, surprised by Rumi’s intensity. “You’re acting like Huntrix is over or something. Just cause the Honmoon is sealed doesn’t mean I’m done with you. We’ve got forever left still.”
Rumi’s chest tightened at the word forever. “Right. Of course.” She did her best to laugh it off and ignore the parts of her screaming that she was about to irreparably damage the only people who had ever loved her.
“Night, Rumi.” Mira gave her one last grin before starting down the hall to deliver Zoey to her bed and retreat to her own room.
“Good night,” Rumi replied softly, not even sure if Mira could hear it. She was left alone in the glow of the golden Honmoon. Her patterns spread further, winding themselves around all of her limbs. She dug her fingertips into the skin where she felt the shame burning, as though somehow it would stop them from taking over her entire body.
It didn’t.
It’s time for you to go.