Chapter Text
Mira could taste blood. She could always taste blood, hot and metallic against her tongue. It might have just been how her mouth tasted, because she didn't think she was bleeding this time.
Her shoulders ached from where her back had been slammed into the wall, and her arm was sore from how hard her father had grabbed her. She'd fought back. She always did, and every time it made everything worse. Every time she bared her teeth or showed her claws she drew blood—if not theirs then her own.
Her father was shouting again. Something about dragging their name through the mud, about how if they caught her with a girl again they'd disown her, about how it was her duty to continue the family line.
She said their family wasn't worth shit, and then her face was snapping to the side as his fist collided with her cheek.
Her mother told her if she'd just be good, this wouldn't happen. It was a lie. She was good, once, and all that meant was she was easier to ignore.
But she certainly hadn't been helping matters, had she?
She didn't look to her brother for help. She knew he wouldn't offer any. If she was being hit it meant he wasn't, and he'd always been willing to sacrifice her for his own comfort. He was probably delighted to know he'd never be as much of a fuck-up as she was.
She shoved him out of the way when she stormed out of the house, not bothering to slam the door behind her as she ran through the backstage corridors with burning lungs. She had more important things to worry about.
Her and Zoey had to thread their way through assistants and technicians. She was angry at them for not getting out of their way, because couldn't they tell that Rumi was in danger?
Rumi's voice came through their IEMs, not angelic like it had been when she sang, but low and frantic and desperate. “Please, stop!”
Zoey was calling for her. Their microphones were off, she wouldn't be able to hear them, but not even trying to let Rumi know they were going to save her felt like a betrayal. Mira said they were coming for her at the same time as Rumi whined “No!”
Thousands of scenarios flicked through her brain like a picture book, getting worse in increments. There weren’t any screens, she couldn’t see what was happening, but Rumi’s staggered breathing was making her feel sick. The corridor stretched endlessly, agonisingly, repeating on itself like a memory.
Rumi screamed “No!” again and this time it reverberated through Mira’s chest, a knife twisting in her heart. The corridor was gone, and she was stumbling into the wing of the stage, where Rumi was on her knees in front of Mira.
Not the Mira in the wings, a different Mira, one wearing an expression she’d never shown to Rumi or Zoey. Something vile and hateful that they'd never done anything to deserve. Rumi’s patterns danced a burning trail across her skin, flashing purple and pink like a broken neon light. She was begging. Mira wasn’t sure what she was begging for, but she was saying “please” through broken sobs.
Zoey was begging Mira, too. “Do something! Why are you just standing there?!”
She didn’t know how Zoey got on stage. She tried to follow, but her legs weren’t working. She was pinned in place. Too late, too slow, too useless.
She watched herself drive her gok-do through Rumi’s heart, quick and remorseless, and then Mira was running. The other Mira was gone and she pulled Rumi into her lap, pressing her hands against her chest. It was hot and slick with blood. “I’m sorry, Rumi. Please-...”
Rumi was trying to form words, but she couldn’t force them out around the blood filling her mouth. Mira wished she’d look at her like she hated her, but she didn’t. The way she looked at her was far worse. She looked at her like this was exactly what she’d expected, like Mira was just fulfilling her role—to inevitably hurt the people she loved. She felt Rumi’s body shudder and then go limp.
“No! I’m sorry, Rumi, I didn’t- it wasn’t me- I- please, don’t go-” Mira sobbed, throat raw and bleeding.
Zoey screamed—a deep, primal wail. She shoved Mira away from Rumi’s lifeless body and snarled at her. “Why did you do that?!”
Mira wanted to explain, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know why she did it, but it was always going to be her, wasn’t it? If anyone tore them apart it’d be her, with her sharp claws and dangerous mouth and anger she didn’t even try to control.
“You killed her, Mira. This is your fault.”
Mira’s eyelashes were damp when she woke up. Her head hurt. Her hands were wet with blood- no, with sweat. Her limbs felt like lead. The ceiling above her was familiar, but it took her a moment to remember being pulled into Rumi’s room and tumbling into bed with her and Zoey a few hours prior. Someone was breathing softly beside her. She closed her eyes tightly and took an unsteady breath, then forced them open and looked to her side.
Rumi was next to her, legs tangled with Zoey’s. Safe. They were both safe. She hadn’t hurt them—not like that, at least.
She felt disgusting. Sweat clung to her skin, and she’d bitten her tongue hard enough to draw blood. She eased out of the bed and crept back to her own room. She didn’t want them to wake up and see her like this, but she needed to shower. She needed to wash the feeling of Rumi’s blood from her skin.
She shut the bathroom door and stripped her damp pyjamas from her body mechanically. Her fingers were numb, she couldn’t really feel the fabric, but she could feel the temperature shift when she turned the shower on and steam began to fill the room. She set it slightly too hot. She needed to be clean.
Her hands scrubbed her body. They didn’t feel like they belonged to her. None of it felt like it belonged to her. She only knew they were her own hands because she recognised the faint scarring on her knuckles from old acts of senseless violence. She watched from a distance as the soap lathered and the suds slid away. She was scrubbing too hard—or the water was too hot—because her skin was turning pink, but she carried on anyway.
She could still feel the blood under her nails. Maybe that was a part of her now, too, just like the metallic taste of it in her mouth. She turned the temperature down and stood under the cooling spray until her brain drifted back to her. She knew she was back with herself when her skin started to sting.
She wrapped her body and hair in towels and sat on the edge of her bed. She couldn’t go back to sleep. She was afraid of what would be waiting for her if she did. She’d been having nightmares on and off since the Idol Awards a few weeks ago, but normally it was the memories of Rumi on stage, or her face when she summoned her gok-do. She knew Rumi was afraid of it now—afraid of part of Mira’s soul because she’d used it to hurt her.
Mira was a little afraid of her soul, too.
This nightmare had been particularly bad. Her nightmares hadn’t involved her family in years.
She stared at her wall until she felt dry enough to put clothes on. Once she had fresh pyjamas on and had dried her hair, she retrieved her phone from Rumi’s bedroom. The curtains were drawn so it was still dark, but Mira waited for her eyes to adjust. Zoey and Rumi looked peaceful. In Mira’s absence Rumi had folded further into Zoey’s arms. Ever since she’d said yes, that the only reason she’d said no to dating them before was because of her patterns, she’d started seeking contact with them near constantly. Even in her sleep, she gravitated to their warmth.
She stared until it started to feel creepy, and then retreated to the kitchen. She needed to make breakfast, but her stomach was churning from the nightmare and she couldn’t handle the smell of food right now. Instead she made herself some tea, curled up on the couch, and checked her phone. It was nearly 6am, and the morning light was starting to creep through the windows. She busied herself with watching random videos on her phone, but she wasn’t really taking anything in, it was just noise to keep her mind from wandering until she had company.
She put her phone down when she heard the bedroom door creak open a few hours later. Rumi padded into the living room and gave Mira a tired but genuine smile that made Mira’s brain go quiet and still. Her voice was thick with sleep when she said “I was wondering where you’d gone.”
“Morning.” Mira said, instead of offering an explanation. Rumi sank into the couch next to her and curled up against her arm. It wasn’t quite enough to chase away Mira’s awful morning, but the easy comfort of it helped. Rumi was especially cuddly when she was tired.
“You smell nice.” Rumi mumbled, burying her face into Mira’s shoulder. Mira chuckled.
“I had a shower.”
Rumi hummed. “You okay?”
Typical. Even half asleep Rumi was quick on the uptake. That, or the shower hadn't cleared the fog from her mind as well as she'd hoped. Mira hesitated. “Kinda. Better now that you’re up.”
Rumi popped her head up to kiss Mira’s cheek, then rested against her shoulder again. The warmth of her lips lingered. “Didn’t sleep well?”
There wasn’t any point in lying. They’d all been struggling, even if they didn’t talk about what, specifically, was haunting them. “Nope. Nightmares.”
Rumi nodded slowly. “Want to talk about it?”
Maybe with Zoey, but not with Rumi. She couldn’t burden Rumi with her nightmares about how Mira had hurt her. It wasn’t fair. “Not really, sorry.”
She felt Rumi nod again, then yawn softly. “It’s okay.”
Mira still felt a little nauseous, but she found herself saying “Do you want breakfast? I haven’t eaten yet.”
“That’d be amazing.”
Instead of letting Rumi release her, she scooped Rumi up into her arms as she stood. Rumi squeaked indignantly, wrapping her arms around Mira’s neck on instinct, then laughed. “Mira!”
Mira placed her on a stool at the island counter and pressed a kiss to her lips. She could feel Rumi smiling against her mouth, and when she tried to pull away Rumi put a hand on the side of her neck to pull her back.
“I can’t cook if you don’t let go.” Mira said. Honestly, she didn’t mind which choice Rumi made. She wasn’t hungry for food, but she was always hungry for Rumi.
Rumi gave her another slow, lazy kiss and then slid her hand down to Mira’s collarbone and gave her a light tap. “Okay. Go cook.”
Mira hummed and circled the island. She pressed her hands on the counter with every intent to tease, but she found herself watching Rumi for any signs of discomfort instead.
They’d all ached after they fought Gwi-Ma, but Rumi was recovering slower than Mira or Zoey. Their best theory was that it was because of how fast the patterns had spread, or maybe the other changes she’d told them about—the ones that had mostly gone by the time she got to Namsan Tower. The fangs and patterns had stayed, but her skin wasn’t tinged purple, and her hands weren’t tipped with claws.
She’d said it always burned when the patterns grew, so she must have been in white hot agony on that stage. Mira tried not to remember how she’d sounded when she screamed.
“Mira?” Rumi asked, cautious.
Mira blinked. “Sorry. I was just-... what do you want to eat?”
Rumi tilted her head. “Something with eggs.”
Mira nodded, then took the leftover vegetables from the fridge. They needed to be cut a little thinner, but that gave her something to do with her hands. She could feel Rumi’s eyes on her.
“Do you want- coffee?” Rumi asked once the steady thumping of the knife against the chopping board filled the room. Mira caught how she hesitated and laughed softly. Rumi always asked if she could help, and Mira always said she could help by getting her a drink.
“So you do learn,” she teased.
Rumi rolled her eyes fondly. They moved around each other effortlessly as Mira cracked some eggs into a bowl and started beating them with a fork. As she finished mixing the vegetables in, Rumi put a mug on the counter next to her. Mira turned to catch her in a kiss and murmured a thank you against her lips before she could retreat back to her stool with her own mug.
By the time Mira finished cooking the omelettes Rumi’s presence had finally dislodged the nausea and her stomach was rumbling. She rolled and cut them before plating them up, putting the third in the fridge for Zoey to have when she joined them.
Mira sat on the stool next to Rumi and ate in relative silence. She had to try not to stare too much. Rumi’s appetite had been fine lately, but in the first week after the Idol Awards she’d been struggling to eat. She was eating ravenously today, though, which was good.
When they were done Rumi took both of their empty plates and put them in the sink. Mira turned in her seat to lean back against the counter, and then Rumi was in front of her, bracketed by Mira’s knees. She took Mira’s hands in her own and smiled.
Mira had been about to say something—probably something sappy, she was in a sappy sort of mood today—when she saw movement behind Rumi. By the couch, where there had been nothing, there was suddenly… something. It took her brain a moment to make any sense of it at all.
It looked almost like a tiger, but the proportions were off, its head too big and its body too wide. It was also very blue, which was decidedly not a colour tigers were. It had fangs, but bracketing those were large tusks, and its eyes were red and yellow and glowing, like-
Like a demon.
Mira was on her feet and advancing on it in an instant, gok-do in hand, putting herself between the demon and Rumi. She'd never seen one like this before, but she'd kill it all the same.
But then Rumi shouted “Mira! Wait!” and Mira turned to look at her.
She realised her mistake a second too late. She dismissed her gok-do, but the damage was done. Rumi had already backed up and pressed herself against the island counter.
Rumi knew it wasn't a fair reaction. Mira hadn't even pointed it at her, she'd only looked at her holding it, but her brow was furrowed in confusion and her eyes were angry and she was holding her gok-do.
Reasonable or not, she couldn't stop the way it made her recoil, or the way her breath picked up. She tried desperately to keep her mind on the present, on the Mira who kissed her and carried her around and made her breakfast, on the Mira who was still standing between her and a perceived threat even without her weapon, but it kept slipping back to the Mira backstage at the Idol Awards.
She tried to take some deep breaths. Mira had gotten rid of the gok-do almost immediately and was holding her face now, saying “I’m sorry. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” and stroking her cheekbone with her thumb. Rumi turned so her mouth was on Mira’s warm palm and waited for the shaking to stop. It helped pin her to the present. The first few times she’d had a panic attack in front of Mira and Zoey like that they hadn’t known what to do, they were too afraid to touch her or speak in case they made it worse. They’d all learned since then that it was better for them to talk her through it. Hearing them speak helped dislodge the voices she heard in the throes of fear.
She pressed a kiss to Mira’s hand and murmured, “Sorry. I was-... I’m okay.” Her voice still sounded unsteady, so Mira let go and pulled her into a hug instead. Over Mira’s shoulder she watched as Zoey padded in, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm, hair sticking up at all angles, wobbly on her feet as she tried to shake off her sleep.
“Are you two okay? I heard-...” Zoey trailed off as she saw the tiger, watching Mira and Rumi with slightly crossed eyes. “What is that?”
Rumi surprised even herself by laughing. Zoey sounded delighted. Mira slowly released her and turned to face Zoey. Her eyes settled on the tiger.
“He’s-...” Rumi hesitated, because what was he, anyway? “A friend?”
“A… friend.” Mira said, deadpan.
She watched as Zoey held her hand out for the tiger. He ambled over and nudged her palm with his enormous head and Zoey gasped. “Oh, he’s soft!”
Mira took half a step towards the tiger now that he was closer to Zoey than he was to her. Rumi had to admire how protective she was over them, even if it wasn’t always what they needed. “What is it, though? It looks like a demon.” Mira asked.
“No, he’s-... um. I don’t really know what he is, actually. He doesn’t feel like a demon.” Rumi said. It wasn’t so much that they could sense demons as much as it was that they could sense when they slipped through the honmoon, but she’d watched the tiger and the bird move through without disturbing it. “I think he’s a spirit?”
Zoey was scratching him behind the ears now, and the tiger melted into it. She’d seen him and the bird a few times since the Idol Awards. They’d visited her on her balcony and in her room, and sometimes she half hoped they were there to bring a message. She really should’ve told Mira and Zoey sooner, but it felt… precarious. They were Jinu’s. She didn’t know how they’d take that, especially since they’d all been avoiding the subject. Now she had no choice but to find out.
“He belonged to Jinu. I think. We used him and the bird as messengers.”
Mira’s jaw ticked. Zoey frowned, but she didn’t stop petting him. After a moment Mira said, “Bird?”
Rumi had been about to explain when she heard something thunk into the window. It made all three of them jump. The bird was flapping his wings against the glass, all six of his eyes narrowed at the tiger. Rumi giggled and moved to open the window so he could fly in and then returned to her spot next to Mira. She had the impression that the tiger had teleported without waiting for the bird to land on his head first.
Zoey gasped again. “It has a hat!”
She heard a soft exhale, something between exasperation and a laugh, from Mira. It settled some of the anxiety crawling along Rumi’s spine.
“You’re sure they’re not dangerous?” Mira asked slowly.
Rumi nodded. “I am. I promise. I was going to tell you about them, but-...” she hesitated.
“...But they were Jinu’s.” Mira finished for her. Rumi nodded again. Mira’s uncanny ability to read her could be a little frustrating, but it sure was helpful when she couldn’t find her words.
Zoey tried to pet the bird, but he narrowed his eyes at her and squawked, making her pull her hand back. “Hey! Bad birdie!” He squawked again. She saw Mira’s arm twitch, but she didn’t intervene. Instead, she leant lightly against Rumi.
“Careful, Zoey.” Mira chided.
Instead of acknowledging that, Zoey returned to petting the tiger. His purr was a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through Rumi’s chest even at this distance. “Do they have names?” Zoey asked.
“I-... didn’t ask.” Rumi blinked. She should’ve, but now it was too late because-
“You didn’t-... you met a blue tiger and a bird with six eyes and a hat and you didn’t ask what their names were?!” Zoey asked, incredulous.
She felt Mira chuckle quietly, and that vibrated through her chest pleasantly as well.
“I wasn’t-... I don’t know! A lot was going on, okay?” Rumi said defensively.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Typical. Okay, I’m naming them then.”
“Oh, good.” Mira said, sotto voce. It made Rumi exhale a laugh.
“Just don’t name them anything really dumb-” Rumi started.
Zoey interrupted her, or hadn’t heard her. “Derpy, because look at him, and…” she peered at the bird, who landed on the tiger’s head and narrowed his eyes again. “Sussie.”
“Derpy and Sussie.” Mira said flatly.
“Blame Rumi, she’s the one who didn’t ask for their names.” Zoey said, pleased with herself.
The tiger- Derpy stood up slowly and padded over to Rumi and Mira. He nudged his nose against Rumi’s hand and she stroked it with the side of her finger and said, “Sorry, buddy.” He made a pleased chuffing sound, and then stared at Mira. Mira stared back.
It was a contest neither of them were going to win.
“What does he want?” Mira asked eventually, slow and cautious.
Rumi shrugged lightly. “Just attention, I think. Pet him.”
“No.”
“Aw, Mira, come on. Give him a scratch.” Zoey said cheerfully, sliding over to them.
Mira grumbled, then very gently put her hand flat on his cheek. Her expression shifted slightly and Rumi smiled. “Soft, right?”
“...Yeah. He’s soft.” Mira said begrudgingly. She gently scratched at his face with her nails and he chuffed again and leant into it. The corner of Mira’s lips twitched into a smile, and the sight of it made all of Rumi’s earlier panic evaporate completely.
Zoey was practically vibrating out of her skin. “Do we have pets now?”
Rumi said “No,” and then, “Kinda? They just show up sometimes. It’s not like we have to feed them or take them for walks or anything.”
Zoey crouched down and stroked Derpy’s side. He was beside himself with joy, trying to lean into both Mira and Zoey’s touch and instead vaguely wobbling between the two. Sussie made a sound close to an annoyed sigh and hopped over to the more stable surface of the island counter instead.
Rumi smiled fondly. It was a relief that Zoey and Mira reacted well to Derpy and Sussie—or, mostly well. She didn’t have the heart to send them away when they showed up.
For a while the only sound was the deep rumbling purr, and then Zoey said, already half way to a pout, “Did you two already have breakfast?”.
“Mhm. I made you some, though. It’s in the fridge.” Mira said. Zoey bounced back to her feet and gave Mira a quick kiss on the cheek before she went rummaging for it.
The sun had come up fully now, casting warm light into the room. Derpy found a sunny spot in front of the couch and lay down in it, stretching his paws out languidly. Zoey took her omelette and sat on the couch near him and said “Aww, big stretch!”
Rumi took Mira’s hand and led her over to join Zoey on the couch. Mira probably would’ve followed anyway, but her hand was warm and comforting and now that Rumi was allowed to touch them as much as she wanted she found that ‘as much as she wanted’ translated to ‘all the time’.
“So…” Mira started. She glanced at Rumi, then looked back to Derpy. “What was the deal with you and Jinu, anyway?”
She was the one who’d mentioned him, so she’d opened the door for the conversation. She could handle it, probably, but Mira’s tone made her heart do something complicated and unpleasant in her chest.
“I don’t really know what the deal between us was.” Rumi said slowly.
Zoey put her plate on the coffee table and gently shooed Sussie away before he could investigate it. “Did you have feelings for him?” she asked, casually.
Rumi sighed. “I don’t think so? It was… complicated.”
Complicated didn’t even begin to cover it. She thought she did at first, but then he lied to her, and the entire Takedown performance was his fault. He knew what she was afraid of, and he’d used it to hurt her in the worst way he could, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Gwi-Ma had made him do it. Maybe that was naive of her, but then he’d sacrificed himself to save her.
“It wouldn’t be weird if you did.” Zoey said, turning to face her.
Rumi ran a hand through her unbraided hair to brush it back off her face. “He was the first person who saw my patterns and didn’t-...” she started, but then she saw how Zoey’s face faltered and felt Mira stiffen next to her. She tried to find another way to phrase it, but came up short.
“You can say the only one who didn’t react badly to it.” Mira said haltingly, as if the words stung coming out of her mouth.
“Yeah, well. You two didn’t find out in the best way, so…” Rumi said, then moved on before they could linger on the subject. It was too raw a wound for her to explore right now. “It was nice to talk to someone who knew and didn’t hate me for it. It was nice to be seen and not be hated for it.”
“I’m sorry, Rumi. We see you now, and we love every part of you.” Zoey said softly.
She meant that they see her in every sense of the word. Rumi had taken to wearing shorter sleeves, getting used to seeing her patterns in increments. More than that, they’d seen all of her, and not just in glimpses at the bathhouse. On a very good day—a day when she wasn’t aching all over and could see herself and still breathe—she’d let them undress her piece by piece and trace her patterns lovingly with hands and mouths so gentle it surprised her, because sometimes with each other they were so much rougher, all teasing words and sharp teeth-
Heat rose to her face. It was far too early to be entertaining those memories, pleasant as they were.
“I know.” Rumi said, hoping it didn’t sound too strangled. Mira took her hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t feel for him the way I feel for you two. I think it was more… relief. Even before you knew what I was, I loved both of you.”
God, it was true. She’d loved them for as long as she’d known them. Saying she didn’t want to be part of their relationship when they asked the first time was the most difficult decision she’d ever had to make, but they deserved someone who could love them with their entire being, not just half of it.
She felt Mira relax a little at the words. She wasn’t going to point it out, but-
“Were you jealous, Mira?” Zoey said, light and teasing.
“What? No, I wasn’t-...” Mira tried, then just grumbled. Rumi giggled.
Mira did get jealous. It wasn’t that she was possessive, it was more that she was… territorial. She didn’t stop her and Zoey from doing whatever they liked, her problem was with how other people acted. She didn’t mind if people complimented them, or fans hugging them, but she couldn’t help but snarl a little if people encroached on her territory. It was why she didn’t ever get jealous about Zoey and Rumi kissing or sleeping together.
“We didn’t ever do more than hold hands.” Rumi said soothingly. “I wouldn’t have chosen him over you two. I wasn’t-... when I said I was using him to fix the honmoon, I meant it. I just wish he’d made better choices. I think we could’ve been friends.”
She hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud, so she was relieved to see that both Mira and Zoey were nodding with understanding, or something close to it.
The quiet that followed was tense, though.
“I’m still angry that he used us against you.” Mira muttered. After some consideration, she added, “And I’m sorry that we-... that we didn’t prove him wrong.”
Rumi’s heart lurched. “But you did. You’ve proven him and Celine wrong every day since.”
If bringing up Jinu made the room tense, bringing up Celine made the room unbearable.
“...Have you spoken to her since?” Zoey asked quietly.
“No. She’s spoken to me, I haven’t responded.” Rumi said. She got a text from Celine every day asking if she was okay. She was going to respond, eventually. “I just need some more time before I talk to her, I think.”
“We can be there if you need us to be.” Mira said. She could hear the anger threading through her words, and underneath that she could hear something fiercely protective.
It had taken a lot of convincing for her to get Mira and Zoey to stay away from Celine. As soon as she’d told them what she’d asked her to do they’d put the pieces together about how she’d been raised.
“I know. I’ll-... probably need you both nearby. Maybe not in the room.”
Zoey wrapped herself around Rumi’s arm. “Whatever you want. Right, Mira?”
“Right.” Mira said, as if she’d had to be reminded that Rumi had specifically said she did not want them to enact violence on the woman who raised her.
“Um. I just wanted to say-... I don’t think I said before, but…” Zoey started, then stopped, then started again. Rumi let her piece together the sentence she was trying to make. “When I summoned my weapons, it was only because the honmoon was hurting. It wasn’t-... I wouldn’t have used them on you. I promise, I would never have hurt you. I know I did anyway, just not physically, and it doesn’t make it any better anyway, but-...”
“I understand, Zoey.” Rumi said gently.
“Same. It was defense, not offense. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just-...” Mira trailed off. She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Mira had been afraid that Rumi might hurt them, deliberately or not. She couldn’t really blame them, not after they’d seen what she was doing to the honmoon.
“I know. I forgive you. Both of you. I forgave you before I even got to Namsan Tower.” Rumi said, honestly. It had hurt enough to drive her to her knees in front of Celine, but speaking to Celine had made her realise that they were victims of circumstance too.
On good days, when she could look back on the memories clearly without the fog of nauseating panic and harrowing pain, she remembered how they’d actually been holding their weapons.
Mira’s hands had been shaking. She wasn’t holding her gok-do in a way that would’ve allowed her to attack, but in the way she held it when they were sparring and she was trying to stop Rumi from slipping inside her guard.
Zoey had only summoned two of her knives instead of all six, and she’d been holding them flat and close to her chest. She couldn’t have thrown them like that.
At the time, Rumi had been afraid. She’d been hurt and angry, with them and Jinu, but she knew now that Mira and Zoey would never have hurt her. They were just scared, too.
“You two can forgive yourselves any time you want.” Rumi said, eventually.
Zoey kissed her cheek instead of answering, and Mira snorted and looked away before saying “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rumi let the silence stretch for a while, watching Derpy roll onto his back in his little sunny spot.
“Derpy is a really dumb name, Zoey.” Rumi said.
It had the desired effect. Mira laughed. “It’s terrible.”
“But look at his face, guys!” Zoey said, pointing at Derpy’s, admittedly, really dumb face.
Rumi smiled and sank into the warmth of Zoey and Mira next to her. “I didn’t say it didn’t suit him.”
She wasn’t going to push the issue of guilt. If she pushed too hard, one of them might point out that Rumi still hadn’t really forgiven herself for lying, for believing Celine, for letting Gwi-Ma into their heads. She was trying, though.
She hoped they were trying to forgive themselves, too.