Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: A Hunter and a Demon

KPop Demon Hunters and all associated characters are property of Sony.

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“Couch, Couch, Couch, Couch, Cou--!”

“Zoey!” Rumi and Mira mock scolded as they exited the elevator to the penthouse of their tower.

“…Couch!” Zoey giggled, draping her arms around their shoulders. “I’m just so glad to be done with today!”

“Me too,” Rumi chuckled, gently lifting Zoey’s arm off her shoulder. “But, maybe, let’s wash up first?”

“Yeah,” Mira snorted, playfully shoving Zoey away. “Don’t wanna get your sweat all over our couch.”

“Excuse you!” Zoey gasped, scandalized. “I am a lady. Ladies do not sweat, we glisten.”

“Well, if you keep ‘glistening’ you’re banished from the couch.”

“Or I could glisten all over it and keep it all to myself!” Zoey declared, stepping forward, one fist raised in triumph. She then sniffed, and her face pinched in disgust. “Ugh, never mind. I reek.”

“You just noticed?” Rumi asked, prompting Zoey to stick her tongue out at her before marching to her room.

“First one out controls the remote!” Zoey called out before shutting her door.

“Guess we’d better hurry,” Rumi sighed fondly. “If she puts on another turtle documentary I’m going to scream.”

“Get in line,” Mira scoffed, before reaching out and tapping Rumi’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah?” Rumi blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Earlier, during the talk show. The host—”

“Mira.” Rumi firmly, if kindly, cut her friend off. “I’m fine. It happens every year. I’d hope with my patterns out for everyone to gawk at things would be different, but hey, we can’t win them all.”

 Rumi shrugged, as if to show she wasn’t too bothered by it.

“But it’s just so—”

“I agree.” Rumi reached out and clasped their hands together. “And thank you. Truly. But I’m used to it.”

Mira’s face twisted into a disgruntled grimace, but she relaxed and tightened her grip on Rumi’s hands before letting go. “Well, just remember we’re here for you.”

“You always are.” They shared a smile, before separating for their rooms.

Rumi rolled her shoulders, letting out a groan as she started the careful process of undoing her signature braid. The process had only gotten longer and, frankly, more tedious as she got older, but she’d be damned if she ever stopped. It was one of the few things she had that connected her to her mother.

So~o take my ha~and it’s ope~en

Rumi blinked, fishing out her phone. She smiled as she answered the call. “Hey Jinu,” she said when his face appeared on the screen.

“Rumi!” He smiled widely. “Did you know that Beethoven was deaf during the last few years of his life?”

She chuckled, sitting down on her bed and leaning against the pillows. “I heard.”

He's so cute. She thought, as she watched his brown eyes shine with excitement.

“But he still composed so many works of art!” Jinu gushed, bringing a smile to her face. “The Third and Fifth symphonies, concertos. Even an opera! That kind of talent…I’m in awe.”

“World tour’s going strong, then?”

“Very strong.” He sobered. “…I miss you.”

Rumi’s smile softened. “Me too.” The whirlwind experience that culminated in Jinu’s return to the land of the living still shook her sometimes. But he was back in her life. Well, sort of, at this point in time.

He sighed, looking away from the screen to the sky. “I’ll never get over how much more connected the world is nowadays. Back in my day it was a journey just to go to another no-name village, much less another country!”

“Okay, old man,” Rumi teased. “Have you finally gotten used to planes?”

He turned back to the screen with a pout. “That was a perfectly normal reaction to flying.”

“You fainted!”

“It’s unnatural.”

“You can fly!”

“Not thousands of feet in the air at hundreds of miles an hour!” They stared at each other, before bursting out into laughter.

“I miss you,” Rumi said softly, like a confession.

“Me too,” Jinu sighed, a sad smile on his face as his eyes shifted, revealing the true depths of his long, tortured existence. “But… this is good for me. Seeing the world. Discovering new music.” He chuckled, a bit of light returning to his eyes. “Of course, nothing can ever beat the bipa.”

“Oh, god forbid,” Rumi said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Rumi knew he was right. Jinu had every right to get to know this bright new world and age. To enjoy life, not as a demon or as a hungry peasant. She still missed him.

She wondered, sometimes, if her own father was as easily enchanted by the world. If her mother enjoyed showing stuff to him.

There was some kind of commotion on Jinu’s end, and he perked up.

“Oh, it’s here.” He flipped the camera around, and Rumi scoffed as a train slowly rolled down the tracks. The camera flipped back to Jinu, who had the widest shit-eating grin on his face as he slowly pumped his arm twice in the air. “Choo-choo.”

“You’re such a dork!” Rumi scolded, unable to hide her laughter.

“You love it,” he teased, and Rumi couldn’t deny it. “Oh! Since I don’t know if I’ll get any service in the mountains over the next week, let me say this now.” He cleared his throat. “Happy birthday, Rumi.”

Rumi smiled, toying with a strand of her hair. “Thanks.”

Jinu hummed. “You really should wear your hair down more. It looks good.”

“You know why I don’t.”

“Still…” A high-pitched whistle followed by a tinny voice over some speakers prompted Jinu to stand up. “Oops, gotta go. Don’t want to miss my ride. Bye, Rumi.”

“See you later, Jinu,” she said, before ending the call. She tossed her phone onto the bed, sinking into her pillows.

Her birthday… and the anniversary of her mother’s death. The latter never outshone the former, per say. Celine, for all her faults in raising Rumi, never made her feel lesser because of it. But the shadow Ryu Mi-Yeong cast was long and dark.

It was with those dreary thoughts that she hopped into the shower, taking a bit longer than usual as she shifted through her thoughts.

It’s not like she spent every waking moment thinking about her mother. She never really knew her, outside of Celine’s stories.

That she was lively, bright, and sunny. That she was always smiling. That she was hungry for life. For living.

Then, how her mother just suddenly started to die after giving birth, her last words had been to beg Celine to take care of Rumi.

Because she loved Rumi so deeply. So desperately. Obsessively, Celine once joked. Couldn’t take her eyes off Rumi for a second after she was put in her arms.

If she knew nothing else, that was enough.

She exited the shower, only pausing briefly at the sight of Jinu’s pets — Derpy the blue-furred tiger, and Sussie the six-eyed, hat stealing magpie — lounging on her bed.

“Really?” she huffed, prompting a low purr from the large cat, and a mocking squawk from the bird.

She put on some pajamas — teddy bears and choo-choo trains, damn Jinu — and started the long process of drying out and rebraiding her hair.

“Holy SHIT!”

Rumi jolted, dropping her brush at Zoey’s english shriek. She bolted out of her room, summoning her saingeom as she ran towards the sound of Zoey’s continued screaming. She could see her friend, not taking a breath as she pointed towards the wall-to-wall windows, screaming her lungs out.

Mira had beaten her to the main living area, her gok-do held loosely at her side as she gaped at something just out of view.

Rumi slowed down, carefully making her way forward since neither Mira nor Zoey appeared to be in any real danger. When she reached them, however, her eyes bulged out of her head.

There, staring out the window down at Seoul’s skyline, stood a ghost. A wispy outline of a woman, her braided hair done up, wearing a long, flowing hanbok.

She turned around, a bland smile on her face. “Ah, greetings, sisters. Would you kindly get the screaming one to quiet down? I have much to tell you.”

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A/N: Hello all! The lovely ChaseAphrodite and I have come together to make this story for your viewing pleasure. Hope you like it.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Legacy

KPop Demon Hunters and all associated characters are property of Sony.

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It took a long time to get Zoey to stop screaming. Which was to be expected, really. Rumi had seen the old videos of Zoey’s rap battles in Burbank. She’d go for minutes taking apart her opponents in a single breath. Her lung capacity put whales to shame.

And through it all the ghost woman just stared down at the city, not a care in the world.

“Are you good?” Mira asked Zoey, settled between them on the couch.

Zoey, breathing rapidly into a paper bag, eyes wide, just gave her a shaky thumbs-up.

Rumi and Mira shared a look, but they had bigger fish to fry.

“Okay, so.” Rumi turned to the ghost, flinching when she trained her translucent gaze on her. “…Who are you? What are you?”

The ghost smiled, clasping her hands together and bowing. “Greetings, Sisters. I am Dal Rae — although I doubt the name means anything to you.”

“Sorry, no,” Mira snarked. But Rumi… something about the name tickled her memory. And that Hanbok… something about the floral pattern on the sash. The shoulder pads. It was archaic. Something you’d see in a period drama from the Joseon Era some four hundr—

“Oh my god,” Rumi whispered as the answer hit her like lightning. She leaned forward, eyes going wide. “You’re… You’re Dal Rae.” The ghost blinked, shocked that Rumi knew her. But in the end, she did smile and nod.

“Oh my god!” Rumi shrieked in delight, quickly falling off the couch and prostrating before her, in the deepest bow she could do. “I can’t believe this!” She might have smacked her head against the floor, but was too busy gushing to care. “I never even dreamed this could ever be possible!”

“Rumi, what the hell?” Mira stated from the couch.

Rumi looked up at Dal Rae, stars in her eyes, only to gasp as loose strands of hair fell over her head. “Oh god.” She rocked back onto her heels. “I am so sorry you have to see me like this — my hair is a mess! And I’m in my pajamas! Please, give me ten, no, five minutes to get ready.”

Dal Rae stepped forward with a placid smile. “Rumi, dear—”

Rumi squeaked. “Dal Rae knows my name!”

“Calm down.” Dale Rae bent down before Rumi, hands held up placatingly. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I have something I need you to do.”

“Anything.”

“…Ok, seriously,” Zoey spoke up. “Who is this lady?”

“This lady?” Rumi shot up to her feet and loomed over Zoey. “This LADY?!” Zoey yelped, clinging onto Mira like a lifeline. “She is Dal Rae!”

“No idea who that is,” Mira muttered fearfully.

“She is one of the first Hunters! Ever!” Rumi shouted, delighting as their faces finally lit up in recognition.

“Cool, I guess?” Zoey said after a moment.

“…You’re out of the group.” Rumi gasped, and clapped her hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Mira gulped. “It’s… fine.”

Zoey shrugged, slowly releasing her death grip on Mira. “I remember how I reacted when you guys didn’t know who Proof and D12 are. Consider it karma.”

Rumi smiled awkwardly — her lips spreading almost too wide for her face — as Mira pulled her back down onto the couch.

“So…” Mira drawled, eyes narrowing at Dal Rae. “You were one of the first Hunters that formed the Honmoon.”

“Indeed.” She took a deep breath. “And started a legacy four-hundred years strong.” She sent them all a flat look. “Until you broke it.”

Rumi sucked in a sharp breath, looking down at the patterns on her legs. “Yeah… I did break it.”

“Hey, hey, none of that.” Zoey drew Rumi into a hug. “We all messed it up back then.”

“Jinu and Gwi-Ma bear the brunt of the blame,” Mira muttered. “But so what?” She addressed Dal Rae. “Are you here to enact some kind of ghostly vengeance?”

“Oh, perish the thought,” Dal Rae replied with a wave of her hand. “You made a brand new one not even a day later.” She swept her spectral foot in front of her and hummed a short tune. The Honmoon — now an iridescent rainbow — appeared and lit up in response. “I quite like it, personally.”

“However.” She clasped her hands in front of her stomach. “Complications did arise when the old one was destroyed. You see, when Hunters die, we can bind our souls to the Honmoon, instead of passing on to the next world.”

“Woah, wait, what?” Zoey cut in. “You mean we have to keep doing this after we die?”

“That wasn’t in the job description,” Mira said, lips curling into a frown.

“It is a choice,” Dal Rae quickly assured them. “A choice. I promise. Not all of our sisters chose to do so. Most did indeed pass on. But, a handful, much like myself, did choose to spend what should have been eternity serving the world as we did in life.”

Rumi gulped. “And, when the Honmoon broke, they were all let free.”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Rumi bit her bottom lip. “That’s… that’s not good, is it?”

“Spirits staying on the mortal plane past their expiration tends to end poorly, yes.”

“So, what are we supposed to do about it?” Zoey chuckled nervously. “Exorcise them?”

“Oh no.” Dal Rae shook her head. “Exorcism is so time-consuming. Simply stab them with your weapons. It is much easier.”

“What?” Rumi, Mira, and Zoey flatly replied.

Dal Rae shrugged, looking down at her spectral form. “Well, we are just little more than bundles of spirit energy. Although the lack of an overlord like Gwi-Ma means that, once purified by your weapons, we will not get pulled back and reform.”

“Wha—no!” Rumi shot up to her feet. “We can’t just kill our predecessors!”

“We are already dead, dear. There’s no harm. It is just expediting the reincarnation cycle.”

“No, Rumi’s right,” Zoey chimed in. “That’s… that’s weird. I can’t do it.”

“Same.” Mira hugged her shoulders. “Killing people is just…”

Dal Rae huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Hunters have become so soft over the centuries. Very well. If you want to do this the hard way.”

She turned back to the window. “Our sisters out there now, they have unfulfilled desires. Tethers to this plane of existence that prevent them from passing on. Should those desires be completed, then they can move on.”

“Really?” Zoey asked.

“Eh.” Dal Rae shrugged, still staring out the window. “It is hit-or-miss. But again, exorcisms are so time-consuming, and you think ‘killing’ is wrong, so this is all we have.”

Rumi exchanged dubious glances with her friends. “Okay,” she said. “What’s keeping you here, then?”

Dal Rae looked over her shoulder with a wide grin. “Why, the fact that our sisters have not all passed on from this plane of existence. I could not possibly move on myself until they have.”

Rumi and Zoey groaned, but Mira just snorted. “Ok, nice hustle. Who are we looking for?”

Dal Rae’s grin faded into a frown. “Unfortunately, I do not know. While I could sense whenever one of our sisters would join me in empowering the Honmoon, I would not exactly call that state of being… conscious. But I can sense them out there.” She looked back out to the city. “Four, perhaps five of them. Still collecting themselves as their desires piece them together again.”

Zoey wrung her hands together nervously. “Are any of these ghost ladies more, uh, put together than the others?”

“…Yes.” Dal Rae hummed. “But I could not begin to tell you exactly where she… is…” Dal Rae trailed off, her translucent eyes widening as, from the reflection of the glass, she saw Derpy, Sussie perched atop his head, prowl into the room.

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all froze as Jinu’s supernatural pet chuffed as he plopped his head on Rumi’s lap, uncaring of the tension permeating the room. The former looked up at Dal Rae, who had slowly turned around to stare at the tiger. “…I can explain.” Sussie, ever the dramatic, squawked mockingly.

“Oh, of course!” Dal Rae stepped forward, beaming down at Derpy. “The demon’s pets. I had forgotten about them.”

“He’s not really a demon anymore,” Rumi mumbled as Dal Rae bent down beside Derpy. The tiger sniffed, its ever-present smile widening ever-so-slightly as it registered a new potential friend.

“Oh yes.” Dal Rae reached out and scratched Derpy’s chin, somehow, earning a rumbling purr. “This magnificent creature can easily sniff out our sisters.”

Sussue cawed indignantly.

“You, not so much.”

Sussie clucked, offended, and tugged at Derpy’s ear to keep him from paying Dal Rae any more attention.

“Hold on.” Mira frowned. “How do you know about Jinu? I mean, I get that you can know about us because we’re all Hunters, but him?”

Dal Rae grinned, looking up from Derpy. “Like I said, we weren’t entirely conscious, but we could observe things. Looking upon the mortal plane was difficult, but when you summoned the Honmoon in battle or during a performance, that awareness grew.”

Mira reared back. “Wait… you guys were watching us?”

“Sometimes,” Dal Rae replied as she stood up. “Personally, I mostly left well enough alone. Peeking whenever one of our sisters died, or the next generation was inducted. I only paid extra close attention last year, when the original Honmoon became close to, and did, break.”

“Have I mentioned I’m really sorry about that?”

“All is well, dear,” Dal Rae reassured Rumi. “Nothing lasts forever.

Rumi marginally relaxed, which was better than Mira, who still looked leery at the idea that people had been watching them. Which was fair. Who would want someone keeping watch over you twenty-four seven? Even if you interpreted them as guardians, it was a bit much.

But then, an idea bloomed to life in Rumi’s mind. One that made her heart flutter.

“Um… Dal Rae?” She asked shyly, waiting until the ghost’s gaze was on her. “Do… Could my mother have joined the Honmoon?” She felt Zoey and Mira shift, looking at her.

“Oh, Rumi.” Dal Rae sighed. “I honestly cannot say.”

“Oh… right…” Rumi cleared her throat. “Sorry, I just—"

“But.” She smiled softly. “If she did choose to join, I do think that a mother wanting to see their child would be enough to keep her here.”

“Oh, Rumi!” Zoey drew her into a hug. “That’d be awesome! I mean, not because your mom missed out on raising you and regrets it so much that it’s keeping her trapped on earth. That’s awful. But you’d get to see her!”

“It would be nice,” Mira added softly, and Rumi sniffled, drawing her friends into a hug so she could hide her tears.

To be able to talk to her mother, hear her voice outside of albums, interviews, and music videos… It would be a dream come true.

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A/N: And now our intrepid trio (and animal sidekicks) officially have their quest!  

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Bright Future

KPop Demon Hunters and all associated characters are property of Sony.

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“Gonna be honest, ‘Ghost Bucket List’ was not on my bingo card,” Zoey cheerfully stated as HUNTR/X, disguised from the public, walked through Seoul’s streets.

“Your bingo card includes ‘Travel to Mars’,” Mira snarked.

“It could happen in our lifetime!”

Rumi let out a breezy chuckle as Mira and Zoey continued their argument, keeping her eye on the rooftops. It’d been a few days since Dal Rae had given them their mission — and the Hunter had become a more than welcome guest in their penthouse — and they finally had a lead on one of the other ghostly Hunters.

Dal Rae had done… something with Derpy during her first night over, and the tiger gained some modicum of focus as it resolutely bound out of the tower every morning and returned every night. Rumi wanted to be jealous that she had a better handle on Derpy in a single night compared to Rumi’s year and a half. But… It was Dal Rae. She could do anything.

Today, Derpy and Sussie had insisted that they follow them to whoever this spectral Hunter was at the crack of dawn. Unfortunately, Dal Rae had elected to stay behind. She’d figured out how to manipulate the physical world — because Dal Rae is awesome incarnate — and said she wanted to be left alone to watch K-Dramas based on the Joseon era. Like Jinu, she was fond of picking apart the historical inaccuracies.

So that left Rumi, Mira, and Zoey to follow Sussie as he squawked at them from rooftops.

After the idea that her mother might have joined the Honmoon entered her head, Rumi just couldn’t let it go. Of course, she didn’t want her mother to be stuck here just for the chance to actually see her. To know her beyond Celine’s stories. But… If she was… If there was even the slightest chance…

She adjusted her facemask and took a quick second to make sure her patterns were hidden from sight — the sheer irony of still having to hide her skin for even a hint of anonymity had gotten old fast. 

They continued on, heading westward. A very specific westward, actually.

“Is it just me,” Zoey said, “or are we heading towards the Donuimun memorial?”

Sussie squawked overhead — a specific cadence that Rumi had come to learn was his way of saying ‘yes’.

Mira hummed. “Well, if they’re as old as Dal Rae they were probably around when the gate was still up — or, rebuilt until it was, you know, destroyed again. Makes a good landmark in case they were ever lost or forcibly tied to the mortal plane.”

“…It’s gone now, though,” Rumi quietly stated. “Depending on when these Hunters came from, a lot will have changed.” Thinking about it, Dal Rae hadn’t freaked out that much about suddenly being in the 21^st century. Of course, she was just built different, but still. Anyone else before the… hell, before the 1940’s would be in for a major shock. They’d have to ease them into everything.

Gravel crunched underfoot as they ducked into an alleyway, Derpy perched on a rooftop above them. The tiger aimed his guileless gaze down at them, before turning onto the square before them.

They saw the ghost easily in the morning light. Even though she was, well, a ghost, people still avoided walking through her. Their faces momentarily scrunching in confusion as they sidestepped, before clearing up and continuing with their day.

She wore a plain hanbok that lacked any of the designs and, well, grandeur that Dal Rae’s had. Her hair was done up into a simple bun, and wore wire-frame glasses that she kept pushing up to stay on her nose. She was staring down at the Donuimun memorial plaque, no doubt reading the brief history of the gate’s destruction and the, much delayed, desire to rebuild it.

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all huddled together. “Okay… How do we get her attention?” Mira asked.

“We could just go up and talk to her.”

Rumi rolled her eyes. “Yes, let’s talk to air, Zoey. That’ll go over well.”

“Then we talk around her,” Zoey replied. “Like, ‘Oh boy, Mira, I sure do love history. Don’t you just wish we could talk to someone that lived through it?’”

“Zoey,” Rumi sighed. “I love you, but that’s easily one of the most ridiculous plans you’ve come up with.”

“How dare you!” Zoey gasped. “That’s not even in the top twenty.”

“Still pretty bad.”

“We just grab her,” Mira said.
“Even assuming she’s become solid like Dal Rae, we’d just be clutching air in normal people’s eyes.” Rumi huffed. “Which would be worse than just talking to nothing.”

“Okay, then how do you suggest we get her?”

“Honestly, talking to me isn’t the worst idea.”

Rumi, Mira and Zoey all shrieked, leaping away and clinging to each other at the new, sudden voice. Sussie, perched atop a fire escape, squawked mockingly.

The ghost hunter crossed her arms and adjusted her glasses as she stared at them. She was heavy-set, Rumi noticed. A healthy layer of fat on her body — perhaps a bit more than healthy, to be honest. But her voice was a smooth contralto as she said, “So, I assume there is a plan to get me out of this liminal existence I am currently in?”

Rumi nodded, untangling herself from her friends. “Yes. I’m Rumi, and I—”

“I was not speaking to you, mongrel,” the ghost cut Rumi off with a vicious sneer.

Rumi stepped back, face going slack. Mira grabbed hold of her to keep her steady, blood rushing to her ears as Zoey launched into a furious tirade at the ghostly Hunter.

How could she forget? Dal Rae hadn’t said anything — because she’s a saint — but Rumi was still half-demon. The very thing Hunters had been trained to kill for centuries. Of course, her predecessors would look at her like some… creature. A stain to be removed.

“…and Rumi is the best damn Hunter to ever exist, you jumped-up, undead, pasty-ass cow!” Zoey finally stopped to take a breath.

The dead Hunter sneered, fixing her glasses up her nose. “How far our Order has fallen, to so willingly defend the enemy. But what did I expect, of the ones that allowed the Honmoon to be destroyed.”

Rumi flinched, even as Mira rubbed her back soothingly.

“Don’t listen to that bitch,” Mira growled. “Just say the word and we take care of her the hard way.” But Rumi didn’t want to just kill the woman, no matter how much her words struck true.

“It was only a matter of time, really,” the Hunter continued. “I mean, what were my successors thinking?! Allowing jjokbari anywhere close to the Honmoon?”

And just like that, the tension in Rumi’s gut vanished. She blinked the tears away, her, Mira, and Zoey now looking upon the spectral Hunter in confusion.

“Wait, hold on.” Rumi took a deep breath as she stepped away from Mira. “You called me a mongrel… Because I’m part Japanese?”

“Rumi, you’re part Japanese?” Zoey asked, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah... My mom’s dad was from Japan.” She only knew thanks to Celine mentioning it when she was a child working on a school report. They were supposed to report on family history. Celine was an orphan, so Rumi had been prepared to just be done with it there. But Celine had sat her down and told her about Ryu Mi-yeong’s family history. She recalled that her mother’s Japanese heritage had caused some strife in the first few years of their idol career, but Rumi herself had never experienced any hardship over it.

Until now, anyway.

“Of course.” The Hunter rolled her eyes. “You hid your origins from your allies. Just as I’d expect.”

“That’s…” Mira shook her head in disbelief. “That’s the only reason you called Rumi a… mongrel?”

The Hunter nodded slowly, as though Mira was speaking another language. Rumi, in response, rolled her sleeves up and gestured to her silvery patterns.

“Ah, yes. Well, that speaks to your mother’s poor judgment — a result of her being a filthy mongrel much like yourself.”

“…I still say we stab her,” Mira deadpanned, Honmoon strings swirling in her palms.

“We’re not stabbing anyone,” Rumi declared — though Zoey has already summoned a shinkal. “Look…” Rumi trailed off, arching a brow at the ghost.

She scowled heavily, but eventually spat out her name. “Seo-ah.”

Rumi nodded. “Seo-ah. Dal Rae, you know who she is” — the ghost’s eyes lit up in recognition — “she gave Mira, Zoey, and I the task of helping you, and whichever other Hunters are stuck on earth, to move on. Are you really going to question her judgement?”

Seo-ah clenched her jaw. “For all of our originator’s wisdom, she has not lived through what me and my sisters have.” Her next words came out in a harsh growl. “To trust one of your ilk!”

She pushed her glasses up her face to pinch her nostrils. “But… I cannot remain here. Nor do I wish to be slain like some petty demon.” She lowered her glasses, staring at Rumi. “I shall… accept… your assistance.” She huffed. “Though I admit my goal may be impossible.”

Rumi exchanged nervous glances with her friends. If Seo-ah’s hatred of the Japanese was any indication…

“What do you want?” Mira asked in a low tone.

“I want to ride a Ferris Wheel.”

“… A what?” they all exclaimed in unison.

Seo-ah’s face softened, lips curling into a small, bashful smile. “A Ferris Wheel. When I first heard of it over in America — in some northern city, I think — I well… It fascinated me.” She raised her arms above her head. “A giant metal wheel taller than buildings — well, back then — with carriages you ride to watch over everything from the skies.”

She let out a soft sigh, dropping her arms and hugging her shoulders. “I was never able to ride it, and it was eventually destroyed. I had thought I’d let the disappointment pass — there is so much more in my life I wish I could have changed…”

Rumi stared at the woman as she shrank in on herself. “…You know… Korea has two permanent Ferris Wheels of our own.”

She snapped her gaze to Rumi, eyes shining as her jaw went slack. “We do?!”

/+/+/+/+/

“These carriages are so fast now!” Seo-ah exclaimed in awe as she watched the countryside pass in a blur.

“This is a bus, actually,” Zoey whispered, launching into a brief history of buses from one of her many, many YouTube binges of random topics.

Despite everything, Rumi couldn’t help but smile at Seo-ah as she attentively hung onto Zoey’s every word. Despite her… prejudice… she was bubbly once you got her talking about human advancements.

At least they were able to get a section of bus pretty much to themselves.

“Hey,” Mira poked her shoulder. “You okay. Considering…” she trailed off, glaring at Seo-ah.

Rumi huffed in fond amusement. “I am, Mira. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know, I know.” Mira leaned her head against Rumi’s shoulder. “Just… never really thought about what it would mean to help out these ghosts. I mean… a lot has happened over the centuries.”

“Yeah. This was a… shock.” Truly, Rumi’s small shred of Japanese heritage had never really impacted her life. She’d never even visited the country until their first international concert years ago.

In a sense, though, it was another link she had to her mother.

Their circumstances were entirely different, of course. At least Ryu Mi-Yeong was still 100% human. But to face difficulties because of their births, however those difficulties came about…

Maybe that was why she’d had Rumi to begin with. A little bit of a selfish desire to raise her child better than she was raised.

Too bad it wasn’t meant to be.

“My goodness!” Seo-ah gasped, prompting Rumi to look out the window as well. And, just as she suspected, off in the distance was the Sokcho Eye — Korea’s second permanent Ferris Wheel.

“It’s massive!” Seo-ah gushed. “Look at how symmetrical it all is! How much time and care went into devising the exact measurements to ensure its functionality!”

Mira chuckled. “You really love Ferris Wheels, huh?”

“Oh, I admire all feats of engineering,” Seo-ah replied with glee. But then, the smile on her face died, eyes growing dull as she curled her hands into fists. “It’s amazing, what mankind can accomplish when they put their talents towards creation, instead of destruction.”

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all exchanged wary looks. They hadn’t come out and said it, but it was obvious that Seo-ah had lived through the Japanese Occupation. Probably the worst of it, given the sheer vitriol she expressed towards Rumi’s Japanese heritage.

Thankfully, by the time they arrived and exited the bus, Seo-ah’s good mood returned. She looked around the coastal city with a disbelieving smile. “I cannot believe that Sokcho has grown so much! To host an invention as grand as the Ferris Wheel!”

“You’ve been before?” Zoey asked as she led them to the Sokcho Eye.

“Child, I grew up on these shores!” Seo-ah hummed. “Oh, if I had the time, I would show you the stages my family would perform Pansori in — at least, where they used to be.”

“Your family were actors?” Rumi asked.

Seo-ah twitched, but took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes… My predecessors recruited me after viewing my performance.” Seo-ah smiled softly. “It was a bit of a shock. My family had no history with Musok, and already it was facing a decline. But I knew in my soul that it was the only choice I could make.”

“…Me too,” Rumi said quietly. Growing up, becoming anything other than a Hunter and Idol like Celine and her mother was unconscionable. Sometimes she wondered if she’d crippled herself, deciding that it was the only option for her — her half-demon blood certainly didn’t help. But, honestly, she could not imagine her living any other kind of life.

Seo-ah sniffed, eyeing Rumi briefly before returning to marveling at the city.

Zoey split off ahead of them to purchase tickets.

“Alright!” she said when she returned. “Got us four tickets!”

“Four?” Mira blinked. “Why’d you get four?”

“Because there’s four of… Us…” Zoey looked down at the tickets in her hands, and then at the translucent figure of Seo-ah. “…Ah, hell.”

“Fools and their money,” Seo-ah said with a huff of laughter. “Though, if that money goes towards maintaining this lovely work of art, then we can’t complain.”

“I can complain a little,” Zoey grumbled as she shoved the fourth, unneeded ticket deep in her pocket.

They got in line, Seo-ah practically vibrating with excitement with each step. When their car arrived, she didn’t even wait for the previous passengers to exit, rushing through five people — making them all shudder and gag — to take her seat.

Rumi and her friends entered at a much more sedate place. And, perhaps by fate, they were the only ones to enter their car, the door shutting behind them.

Zoey sighed as she fell back into her seat. “Can’t remember the last time I was on a Ferris Wheel.”

Seo-ah — her face previously pressed up against the glass — turned to Zoey with a horrified gasp. “You have regular access to this wonderful invention and you don’t take advantage of it?”

“…No…?” Zoey squeaked.

Seo-ah turned away with a scoff, grumbling about wasted youths.

Mira opened her mouth to retort, but then they started moving.

“Finally!” Seo-ah squealed, lips spread into the biggest smile Rumi had ever seen.

“…I just don’t understand,” Mira said with a shake of her head. “I mean, I can understand the fascination, but how is a Ferris Wheel what’s keeping you here?”

Seo-ah’s smile faded, her hands curling to fists against the glass as they rose higher in the air.

“…I first heard about the Ferris Wheel from a friend of my husband’s,” she eventually said, soft and low. “He worked on a trading vessel, and heard about it during his latest trip to America, within months of its construction.” She smiled brightly. “My husband, bless his soul, knew I loved such things — marvels of engineering. He wanted to charter a voyage to America, just to take me to see it. We started saving up money for it, even.”

Her smile vanished, a haunted expression taking its place. “And then China and Japan declared war on each other, with Korea stuck in the middle.”

Rumi sucked in a sharp breath, echoed by Mira and Zoey. The First Sino-Japanese War…

She sniffed as the Ferris Wheel slowly turned. “We couldn’t leave, then. So much chaos, so much death and destruction. From man and demon.” She sighed. “And then we ‘won’ independence from China. And for some damn reason” — she broke off into a chuckle — “I thought it would be okay. But then Japan made us a ‘protectorate’!” She spat. “They’d already been sticking their grubby paws in our way of life — driving in the final nails against musok.”

“…And then a year after that, I heard that the Americans had demolished the first Ferris Wheel. A beautiful feat of engineering, destroyed for… I don’t even know why.”

The Ferris Wheel car had reached its apex, and it stopped, letting them see Sokcho in all its glory.

Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all looked helplessly at each other. They were running into this whole ‘help ghosts pass on’ thing blind. But this… This felt like a huge step backwards.

“…I’m sorry,” Seo-ah said, turning away from the city to look at Rumi. “For calling you and your mother mongrels. That was unbecoming of me.”

“It’s… It’s okay,” Rumi replied. “That stretch of time… I can understand why you’d dislike Japan and its people.” She bit her bottom lip. “But… Korea did eventually—”

“Oh yes, yes.” Seo-ah waved a hand. “World War II, those ghastly bombs. I saw the concerts one of your predecessors threw to celebrate throwing off the yoke of Japanese oppression.” She smiled sadly at Rumi. “It is still no excuse. We are Hunters. We rise above the darkness.”

She bowed at them all. “Thank you, for granting me this gift. I do not deserve it in light of my behavior.”

Zoey shook her head. “Hey, no. Don’t say that. You survived some very harsh times. You deserve to vent a little.”

Mira grumbled. “Well, you shouldn’t have said that racist shit.” She nodded at Seo-ah. “But you’re old. We can give you a little grace.”

Seo-ah chuckled lightly, before turning her gaze to Rumi.

“I’ll be honest, if anything I thought you’d hate me for being half-demon.”

“Well, at the very least demons are born in Korea.” Rumi snorted. “But… No one chooses their parents. Though some get lucky and great parents choose them.” She smiled. “Regardless, you have done such wondrous things.” She hummed a tune, low and steady. The new Honmoon glittered in the car. “Such beautiful threads. Accepting of all that is, and can be.” Her ghostly form glowed golden. “Better than anything that came before it, I’d say.” And it was with a bright, motherly smile that she vanished in golden mist.

/+/+/+/+/

A/N: First one down, a few more to go.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: Hunter’s Lament

KPop Demon Hunters and all associated characters are property of Sony.

/+/+/+/+/

They were somber as they exited the Ferris Wheel, no one quite willing to look the other in the eye. Ordinarily, at least one of them would suggest seeing the local sights — it wasn’t often that they were Sokcho, at the coastline, after all. But after hearing Seo-ah’s story, however brief a tale it was…

It wasn’t until they got onto a bus heading back to Seoul, huddled together in the back — Mira sandwiched between Rumi and Zoey — that Zoey spoke up. “We should make a tribute song,” she said, looking out the window.

“For Seo-ah?” Rumi asked.

“Yeah.” She looked over at Rumi. “Her and whoever else we help out.”

Rumi hummed. “Depending on when these women come from… That's a long timeline.”

“Well, maybe we can turn it into an entire album.” Zoey clasped her hands on her lap, looking down at them. “I mean… these women… no one knows about them other than us.”

“They’re Hunters, like us,” Rumi quietly countered. “We’ve been a secret since… the early 20th century...” She blinked. “Oh… right around the Occupation. I never… never put that together.” She leaned back in her seat. “Seo-ah probably played a part in that.”

Mira sighed, a guilty frown on her face. “I never really paid attention to any of the Hunter history Celine tried to teach us years ago.”

Zoey shrugged. “I still don’t know much about Korean history in general. Never too late to learn.”

“I can tell you about the Hunter stories I know off hand.” Rumi chuckled bashfully. “Most of them are gonna be about Dal Rae and the other original Hunters, though.”

“Gee, who could have guessed?” Mira teased, earning a playful pout from Rumi.

“Well!” Zoey dropped her chin on Mira’s shoulder, eyes wide. “Go on!”

Rumi chuckled, leaning back in her seat. “Well, calling Dal Rae and her sisters — Jina and Sunbi — ‘the originals’ is actually a bit of a misnomer. Demon hunting had been a thing long before the Honmoon was created…”

/+/+/+/+/

By the time they returned to the penthouse, Zoey had filled up three notebooks with ideas for their tribute album. Rumi had no idea where the notebooks had come from, and she was afraid to ask.

They walked into the penthouse to find Dal Rae right where they’d left her — intently watching historical K-Dramas like they owed her lunch money. But where she was wrapping up The Crowned Clown when they left, she was now watching—

“Is that Joseon Exorcist?!” Rumi exclaimed, horrified.

Dal Rae, face set into the meanest glare Rumi had ever seen on anyone, dead or alive, nodded harshly. “It… intrigued me.” Rumi winced at the sheer venom in her voice, her translucent body shimmering violently. It didn’t help that she was watching what might have been the infamous show’s most infamous scene — when then-prince Sejong the Great fed a Catholic Priest Chinese dishes.

Zoey immediately launched herself at the couch, grabbing the remote and shutting off the TV before Dal Rae could spontaneously combust. “Wanna watch turtle videos instead?!” she screeched. Dal Rae did not respond, merely flicking her gaze to Zoey’s phone when she pulled up her cornucopia of turtle videos.

Rumi and Mira leaned against each, breathing sighs of relief. Mira bumped elbows with Rumi. “Help me get some food together, I’m starving.” Rumi nodded, but blinked when Mira opened the fridge to pull out fresh vegetables instead of the mountains of snacks and easy-to-make meals they had in the cabinets.

Mira sniffed, a faint blush on her cheeks as she laid everything. “I feel like making something traditional. Don’t give me that look!” she mock-scolded when Rumi cooed. “I’m not feeling sentimental about all this ghost crap we’ve been dragged into.”

“No, of course not,” Rumi said with a wide grin.

It took a few hours — Mira wanted to be properly authentic, it seemed — but eventually they got to the point where Zoey was too busy drooling over food to gush about turtles.

Even Dal Rae, despite not being able to smell — at least, Rumi assumed she couldn’t smell — smiled wistfully at the spread. “Ah…how long has it been since I have seen such a wonderful sight?”

She looked at Rumi, Mira, and Zoey. “Forgive me, but I forgot to ask in light of the… unpleasantness.” Her face pinched, before it smoothed into polite interest. “One of our sisters was released from this earth, correct?”

Zoey nodded. “Yup. Seo-ah. From around the late 1800 to early 1900s.” Dal Rae stared blankly at her. “…Oh! Right. You guys probably used a different calendar back them. Um, about 300 years after your time.”

Dal Rae’s smile returned. “That is good.” Dal Rae bowed, and Rumi had to fight to keep herself from bowing lower out of respect. “Thank you again, my dears, for assisting in this endeavor.”

Rumi shone with pride, and Zoey smiled bashfully. Mira, however, frowned, brow pinching as it always did whenever she come across a problem she needed to solve.

Thankfully, she let them eat in peace. And eat they did. They hadn’t had so much as a single snack on the six-hour round trip to Sokcho and back. That was basically starva— no, no. She couldn’t make those jokes anymore, even in her head. Not after Jinu.

Still, they had caloric standards to maintain.

“My goodness,” Dal Rae whispered, the shock in her voice making Rumi flinch. “I had thought there would be something left for supper.”

“Neh. Weh leck oor plets clen,” Zoey mumbled around some kimchi. Dal Rae stared blankly, and Rumi gaped in horror at the utter embarrassment Zoey was putting her through.

“I am so sorry about this,” Rumi whispered, scandalized, to her idol.

“…Times change,” was all Dal Rae said in reply. “Times change,” she repeated, like a mantra.

Rumi smiled shakily, and returned to her meal at a much more sedate pace. Still, when she finished, she joined her friend in letting loose long, content sighs, leaning back in their seats and patting their full bellies. Falling into pleasant silence.

“Hey, Dal Rae,” Mira spoke up, soft, but strong. “Why didn’t you come with us?”

Dal Rae blinked out of her stupor, a frown creasing her lips.

“It’s just that…” Mira sighed, before leaning forward, her elbows on the table. “Seo-ah followed us all the way to Sokcho. It’s not like you guys are stuck to one place.”

Rumi paused, because, yeah, Dal Rae could have followed them to Seo-ah. Rumi could have had the chance to show her idol around Seoul and save ghosts like a couple of Bonafide badasses! She had to fight to whip her head around to send Dal Rae a betrayed pout.

Dal Rae said nothing, face carefully blank as she stared at Mira. Then, she slumped a little, aging decades — centuries. “Do you know how things were before the Honmoon was created?”

Zoey hummed nervously. “Rumi was telling us on the way back home. Demons had been around for… pretty much forever. Shamans back then — some of them, at least — were born with the power to fight them with magic. You guys pretty much stuck to one central location, fought demons whenever they showed up.”

“…I was twelve, when I killed my first demon.”

Rumi reared back, sharing shocked stares with Zoey and Mira. Twelve? Celine hadn’t let them go out and kill their first demons until Zoey had turned seventeen. Rumi had learned how to summon her saingeom when she was fifteen, and still Celine refused to let her go until a few years after Mira and Zoey had been chosen to join her as the newest generation of Hunter.

She remembered begging and pleading to go out and help Celine after she’d finally manifested a weapon. To share the burden that had fallen on her shoulders alone after the third Sunlight Sister, Eun-Jin, was taken out by a car crash — of all things — when Rumi was two years old. But Celine had refused her. Tired and sad and cracking under the pressure, she still denied any help. Refused to shift the burden onto Rumi until she was prepared to take it.

“Ah.” Dal Rae chuckled bitterly at their stupefied expressions. “You have no way of understanding just how terrible things were back then. You thought things were bad when the old Honmoon was breaking? At least you still got time to rest.” She rose from her seat, turning to the window to stare out into the city. “Every minute of every hour, demons prowled the lands. Gwi-Ma freely whispered in the ears of anyone desperate or vile enough to listen to him. Those of us blessed” — she practically spat the word — “with a higher calling devoted ourselves to protecting our own little carvings of land.”

Rumi gulped, looking down at her hands, tracing her patterns. She knew, intellectually, that Hunters — rather, shamans — had fought demons for ages. But it was always a footnote. Barely anything worth thinking about. What Zoey had told Dal Rae was all Rumi had ever learned about it. What mattered was the Honmoon. Not the… struggles that led up to it.

“…We still tried, back then, to live our lives despite the constant incursions. Find joy where we could.” She clasped her hands over her stomach. “Let love bloom where it could. Selfishly bringing life into the chaos.”

She turned to them with a flat, numb expression. “And then, one of my dearest friends, Jina, gets an idea in her silly little head. Through the use of our songs and performances, reach out to the hearts of those we save, and take what was freely given. Use the admiration and relief and joy of being saved to weave a grand tapestry to protect the land.” She scoffed. “And like a fool, I believed in her.”

“But… it worked.” Rumi said softly. “You three—”

“We traded one burden for another,” she said, voice low and almost venomous. “It was not enough to stay in one place and form the Honmoon over a small area. We had to travel the lands, ensure that it encompassed all of Korea.” She set her jaw. “And then, when the deed was done — when I thought we could rest — we discovered it was not enough. The threads that created Honmoon would fray unless constantly, eternally maintained.”

Dal Rae stared down at her hands, curling them into fists. “I spent the rest of my life — fifty long years — roaming the lands with my sisters. Slaying demons with song and dance while draining those we saved to maintain the Honmoon. I tried, so desperately, to teach others how to maintain the Honmoon. To let myself rest. But our peers were too old — too stubborn — to learn.” Her face twisted into a snarl. “We had to start fresh, three children that knew nothing, molded to perfection.”

“By the time—” she choked, voice stuttering out into a gasp. “By the time they were trained up enough to ease the burden on myself, my husband was dead, and my children, strangers.” Tears — clear as glass — glowed down her face. “I had nothing… but the Honmoon.”

A loud sniffle sounded from Rumi’s left — Zoey, predictably, clutching a napkin to her face as tears freely and greedily flowed. But even Mira was glassy-eyed and fighting to keep her jaw from quivering. Rumi split the difference between the two, tears silently falling down her face.

Dal Rae sighed, looking up at them with a tired smile. “I… Make no mistake, my dears, I do not regret forming the Honmoon. Saving so many people for generations to come. I am proud of what I did. I simply wish the consequences were not so dreadful.”

“But why join the Honmoon?” Rumi asked softly. “You already gave up your life for it.”

Dal Rae sighed. “I… No one really knows what happens to the human soul when it passes on to the next life — when it is not held captive by demons. When it is purified of its regrets. I was… afraid. Of what I might find. I could not bear to face…” She hugged herself, growing smaller. Duller. “And then I died, and the Honmoons threads reached out to my soul as it left my body.” Her face shuttered. “I chose the way of the coward. To keep serving the Honmoon instead of facing the ones I hurt. Spend my afterlife seeing glimpses of all that would come to pass. All the pain and joy and strife and love.”

“As I said when we first met, I could not pass on when our sisters are still here. As one of the three who started this life of ours, it would be the height of irresponsibility to leave them behind.” She shook her head. “But I am just… So tired of it all. Devoting myself to a greater cause.” She looked up at them, heavy with grief. “I cannot do it anymore. I am sorry for being so selfish.”

“It’s not selfish,” Rumi, Zoey, and Mira said in tandem — though Zoey’s speech was filtered through hiccupping tears.

“I’m sorry!” Mira said first, wiping her eyes clear of tears. “I wasn’t trying to accuse you or anything. It’s perfectly fine that you don’t want to help us.”

“You gab ub so mush!” Zoey wailed. “Yur a seint!”

Rumi got up, and carefully placed a hand over Dal Rae’s shoulder. She couldn’t even actually touch her — and her spectral form was practically icy — but she made sure to look Dal Rae in the eyes. “It’s fine, to take a break. Especially after all you’ve done. We understand. Let us take care of it — take care of you.”

“Oh, you sweet things.” Dal Rae cupped Rumi’s cheek, the chills sending shivers down her spine. “So kind, so beautiful. You do this old Hunter proud.”

Rumi sniffed, turning to hide her blush and clear her throat.

Dal Rae pulled away from Rumi, wiping at her face. “Ah, my apologies. I should not have lost control of myself like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rumi smiled softly. “Everyone needs a good cry now and again.”

“Ooh, we shuld guh to—” Zoey blew her nose. “We should go to a bathhouse!”

“Honestly I could use it for that six-hour roundtrip alone,” Mira said with a watery chuckle.

Dal Rae chuckled, and gestured to her translucent form. “I doubt I shall experience the same relief you would. But I will never turn down a chance to spend time with my sisters.” Rumi beamed, and they all split off to gather their things.

But, as Rumi got ready, her mind kept drifting to Dal Rae’s bitter tale of sacrifice.

To Seo-ah’s regret and anger.

It was only two people, and Seo-ah hadn’t told them what led to her joining the Honmoon. But… if that kind of negativity was what led to Hunters joining the Honmoon, and was keeping them trapped here on earth as well, did she want her mother here too?

Part of her — the little girl that had clung to Celine at night, childishly begging for stories of Ryu Mi-yeong to fall asleep to — didn’t care. Terrible as the thought was, she wanted to see her mother.

But no one deserved that. To be tied down by their regrets and wishing things could be different. That’s… that what demons went through.

The thought made her shudder.

It was in no way the same, of course. Completely different. This was a duty freely chosen. Not a sour deal made in bad faith. Even though Dal Rae herself had, however indirectly, made the comparison as well. Said that it was only the lack of someone like Gwi-Ma forcing them to resurrect that would allow them to move on if… violently expelled.

It forced her to wonder… How much did they really know about the Honmoon — both the previous one and the one Rumi, Zoey, and Mira had made? Dal Rae said the Honmoon reached out to her. Did it sense her fears and wanted to soothe her? Was it simply trying to keep one of its creators and protectors tied down for self-preservation?

Unbidden, she hummed a tune, and the Honmoon shimmered to life around her. She dragged her fingers along the threads, feeling the warmth radiating from it. They’d just wrapped up a big, highly anticipated concert, so it wasn’t at risk of unraveling anytime soon. Well-fed on their fans’ positive emotions as it was.

Rumi startled at the thought, drawing her hand back and letting the Honmoon fade from sight.

“Rumi!” Mira’s voice called out from outside her room. “Hurry up! You don’t have an excuse not to join us at bathhouses anymore.”

“Just a second!” Rumi called back, hastily getting her things together. Leaving all thoughts of the Honmoon behind.

/+/+/+/+/

A/N: To anyone that is also on KDPH Golden Page Discord thread, that ending bit with the Honmoon was a little treat just for you.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: Spare the rod and spoil the child

KPop Demon Hunters and all associated characters are property of Sony.

/+/+/+/+/

The bathhouse the previous night had been a godsend, and Rumi had even managed to show Dal Rae some of her favorite spots in Seoul! Granted, the spectral Hunter was more bewildered than anything, but still!

After a well-earned night’s rest, they woke up refreshed and ready to face the world… Whenever Derpy and Sussie came to grab them.

Mira, the lucky bitch, sat with Dal Rae on the couch, introducing her to non-historical K-Dramas. Leaving Rumi and Zoey free to plan their History of Korea tribute album (title pending). Though Rumi had her reservations.

“I don’t know, Zoey,” Rumi sighed and rubbed her temples. “I mean… it’s a little tone-deaf, isn’t it?”

“Well…” Zoey sighed and scribbled something in her fifth notebook for the album. “You are Japanese.”

“Barely,” Rumi muttered, twirling a pen in her hands. “I don’t even know where in Japan that half of my mom’s family is from. Or the Korean half, really.”

Her grandparents had died before she was born. Celine barely knew their names or where Ryu Mi-yeong had grown up. And Rumi never cared to ask for more beyond that. Celine herself was an orphan, so Rumi assumed it was normal growing up. And after finding it out it was just… never important.

Of course, she didn’t know anything about her father either. And she understood why Celine never talked about him. He was a demon. But so was Jinu. Proof that demons could be more than just monsters to be slain in the dark. What had her mother seen in him? What had he seen in her? What had they done together?

Why had he left?

Rumi dearly didn’t want her mother to have been stuck within the previous Honmoon. And then tied down to earth by some past regret. But she wished for the chance to talk to her. To understand her. To bond with her.

If nothing else, they could at least talk about what they both saw in demons to give them a chance.

Rumi sighed, and looked down at Zoey’s notebooks to distract herself. Her friend had gone on a history binge, researching major milestones for Korea — good and bad — for the album. Some of the subject matter was… very dark, though.

“…Zoey, you know we can’t use half of this stuff.”

“Shush!” Zoey scolded without looking up. “The past can hurt. But you can either hide from it, or learn from it.”

“…Did you just quote Disney to me?”

“Lion King, yes.” Zoey flicked her pen at Rumi. “The best Disney movie ever made.”

“That’s a funny way of saying Beauty and the Beast.”

Mira snorted from the couch. “You would. How’s Jinu, by the way?”

Rumi glared at Mira, ignoring heat rising up her face. “He’s still in the mountains. No clear signal.”

“Poor thing. Missing your boyfriend?”

“We’re not dating!” Rumi protested. 

Dal Rae sniffed. “I don’t know what either of you are waiting for. You are far too old to be wearing a braid, Rumi.” Rumi glowered — before remembering her place and settling for a pout.

Celine had been doing her hair like this ever since Rumi could talk. One of her earliest memories was asking Celine to make her hair look as pretty as her birth mother’s, and it had been like this ever since.

Smack

Caw-Caw

Rumi jumped at the sudden sounds, turning to see Sussie repeatedly ramming into the windows and squawking like a mad… bird. 

“…Do those not open?” Dal Rae asked. 

“No, and Sussie knows that.” Rumi replied. Sussie’s tiny hat had fallen off its head, dangling haphazardly on its neck before it pressed itself against the glass, Honmoon rippling as it slipped into the penthouse. 

Caw-Caw-Caw-Caw

Sussie cried again, divebombing Rumi and tugging at the end of her braid. 

“Hey, hey!” Rumi pulled her braid back, smoothing it out. “Calm down!”

Sussie cawed, all six eyes narrow as it circled the air before darting to the elevator. 

Zoey hummed as she set her notebooks aside. “Guess they’ve found the next ghost.”

“But what’s gotten into the bird?” Mira asked as she rose from the couch. “I’ve never seen it so… excited.”

Rumi shook her head. “I’ve got no idea.” Sussie could be mischievous, but was fairly sedate otherwise. The bird hadn’t even taken a moment to readjust their hat, just flapping and cawing wildly as it waited in front of the elevator. 

“Best you all find out,” Dal Rae said. “It must be serious for a guardian spirit to act so erratic.” She pursed her lips. “I… I can barely make out its shouting.”

“Wait, you can understand the bird?” Zoey asked.

“Of course, we’re both spirits,” Dal Rae replied, as if it explained everything.

“...Well what’s it saying?” Mira asked.

Dal Rae shrugged. “It’s mostly incoherent screaming. Shouting at you three to follow it to the tiger and to hurry.” She frowned. “…I doubt it's good.

Rumi gulped. “Which means…”

“Have you gotten over your squeamishness regarding stabbing a ghost?”

Rumi shared a look with Mira and Zoey, all three shuddering in unison. 

Dal Rae rolled her eyes. “Then you had best pray you can reach her before that becomes a necessity.”

/+/+/+/+/

“If that bird weren’t an immortal spirit I’d pluck its feathers and deep-fry it,” Mira grumbled as Sussie divebombed them for the tenth time in as many seconds.

“Hey…” Zoey stopped to look around the alley. “This is near Dr. Han’s office! Should we pay him a visit?”

“Sure.” Rumi rolled her eyes. “I could use another ‘tonic’ right about now.” Though, honestly, she was feeling a little parched. 

“We are not seeing that charlatan again,” Mira huffed, before swatting at Sussie as it tugged at her hair. “C’mon, let’s hurry up and find this ghost before the streets get more crowded.” It was early enough that Myeongdong’s market streets weren’t terribly busy, but that would change fast. 

Then, finally, they found Derpy and the ghost. She wore a hanbok, much like Dal Rae did, along with a gat atop her head. Her back was turned to them as she bent over to pet Derpy. The spirit tiger purred loudly under her touch — ecstatic in a way Rumi rarely saw.

Sussie chirped excitedly, darting down before the woman. She drew back, before chuckling and reaching out to stroke the bird’s neck.

“What’s with you two?” She chuckled, voice soft and light. Derpy purred, rising up to nuzzle against her neck. “Oh geez!” She exclaimed as she was bowled over, Sussie calmly moving to sit on her chest. “Hee hee hee, okay, okay! Calm down.”

She tilted her head up from the ground, blinking at the sight of Rumi, Mira, and Zoey. “Oh! It’s you three.” She tilted back to Derpy and Sussie. “Alright, alright, get off.” Derpy whined, but did get off — after one last nuzzle. Sussie crooned, reluctantly hopping onto the tiger’s head.

The ghost woman stood up, dusting off her Hanbok — decorated in floral patterns much like Dal Rae’s — and adjusting her hat. She fixed them all with a bright smile, before bowing lightly. “A pleasure to officially meet you all. I am Mi Cha.”

Rumi stared at the ghost woman. Something about her was… eerily familiar. Something about her face… It was probably nothing. All these ghosts were at least decades old, she’d probably seen a distant descendant out on the street or something.

 “You know who we are?” Mira asked. 

“Course I do!” Mi Cha grinned, and pointed to Rumi’s left. “Mira.” Rumi’s right. “Zoey.” And at Rumi herself — and her grin grew just a bit. “Rumi.” She shrugged. “Granted, I didn’t really care who you were until everything started going to hell with Gwi-Ma and the Soju Boys.”

“Saja Boys,” Zoey corrected.

“Whatever.” 

Rumi nodded. “Right, well, we’re working with Dal Rae—”

“That old bat’s stuck here too?”

Rumi froze. “...What?”

“Dal Rae?” Mi Cha waved an arm dismissively. “Cranky old witch. Slavedriver. Wouldn’t know fun if it bit her in the ass?”

“Wha— buh— how dare you?!” Rumi shrieked. “Dal Rae is— she’s the best Hunter ever! You can’t say those things about her!”

“I spent a solid decade getting caned by her — and Jina and Sunbi — whenever I was a hair out of line or a step behind tempo.” Mi Cha crossed her arms and arched a brow. “I can say whatever I want about her.”

“Well you clearly deserved it for such blatant disrespect!” Rumi snarled.

“Rumi!” Zoey pulled her back. “What the hell? You can’t defend corporal punishment!”

“Yeah.” Mira grimaced. “That’s… not right.”

“Oh I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it.” Mi Cha shrugged. “I was an angry little shit. Still, she’s a bitch.”

Rumi stretched her hand out, the Honmoon’s strings glittering in her palm.

“Rumi, no!” Zoey shouted, forcing her hand closed. “You can’t stab her just because you don’t like what she has to say!”

“Only because you’re stopping me!”

The ghost snorted. “Ah, you’re too easy, kid.”

“Kid?!” Rumi scowled. “We’re the same age!”

“I’m a spirit,” Mi Cha rolled her eyes and she leaned back against Derpy. “I was eighty when I died.”

That made Rumi pause. She looked Mi Cha up and down. “...Seriously?”

“I know, I know.” Mi Cha gave her a smarmy grin. “I look amazing.”

Rumi set her jaw — again, something about her was eerily familiar. Especially that smug smile. “What regrets are keeping you tied to the earth? Is it the desire to prostrate yourself before Dal Rae and beg her forgiveness for your insolence?”

“Ha! She wishes.” Mi Cha sighed, sobering. “Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Mira replied. “Last ghost we helped wanted to ride a Ferris Wheel.”

“I don’t know what that is.” Mi Cha sighed. “Ok. You guys know what jellyfish are, right?” They all nodded — though Rumi only did so after Mira lightly elbowed her. “Haven’t you ever wondered what those things look like in the water? And I’m not talking about when fishermen drag them up by their nets, I mean when they’re actually underwater. Any fish, really. Like sharks or dolphins.”

“Dolphins are actually mammals,” Zoey replied. 

“...Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m senile, brat.”

“No, they— nevermind.”

Mi Cha cleared her throat. “Now, I understand that the military have invented these strange boats that can traverse underwater.”

“Submarines?” Mira blinked. “How the hell do you know about those?”

“One of your predecessors performed a concert for the military. Performed on top of one of them.” Mi Cha snapped her fingers. “Now, I don’t know how well-connected you are with the military, but I figure some blessings for prominent family members, a sizable donation to some noblemen’s pockets, and you should be able to—”

“Or we can just go to the aquarium,” Rumi cut in.

“...What’s an aquarium?”

/+/+/+/+/

“This is the greatest thing mankind has ever invented,” Mi Cha declared as she looked upon SEA LIFE COEX, Rumi’s favorite aquarium as of the last five years, from across the street.

“Ooh, I hope we can see them feed the sea turtles!” Zoey gushed.

“Feed what?” Mi Cha stared wide-eyed at Zoey. “You keep sea turtles in there? Why?!”

Rumi arched a brow the intensity in the spirit’s voice, only to recall that, way back when, turtles were revered as noble creatures in Korea. 

“Ah, it’s for conservation,” Zoey replied. 

“…Why do sea turtles need to be conserved?” Mi Cha leaned down to stare Zoey right in the eyes. “What happened to the turtles?”

“Oh look,” Rumi cut in before Zoey could flounder under the spirit’s intensity. “Mira’s got the tickets.”

Mira waved at them at the aquarium entrance, so Rumi and Zoey wove through the crowd to reach her. Mi Cha gave no such consideration, walking through a dozen people — making them all pale and shudder as if someone had stepped on their graves. 

Still, it was better than what Derpy and Sussie were doing. Neither spirit wanted to leave Mi Cha alone — Rumi had no clue why, the ghost was terribly rude. And irreverent. And ungrateful. 

The pair had elected to sink into the Honmoon — ensuring no one could accidentally see or bump into them. But Derpy’s head — Sussie perched atop it — stuck out of the ground like a periscope. The duo were covered into the Honmoon’s iridescent strings, like a kind of wire blanket, and it rippled as they basically swam through the ground. 

That made people trip on ‘air’. At least one poor woman fell on her butt. Not that either spirit animal cared, content to be as close to Mi Cha as possible. 

“Here we are,” Mira grinned directly at Zoey when they reached her. “Three tickets.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Zoey grumbled, swiping her ticket out of Mira’s hand. 

Rumi chuckled, turning her attention to the aquarium entrance. 

She loved aquariums. Had since she was a kid. Celine had taken her to her first aquarium, Seaworld 63, when she was four. Admittedly, after Rumi threw a tantrum and insisted on going with her to a business trip to Seoul.  

Celine had cleared out an entire day just to show Rumi around. It had been amazing — seeing all the sea life in as natural an environment as possible. Listening to Celine list off all the facts on signs, or that she'd simply known. 

Years later, Celine told Rumi that she herself had always enjoyed going to aquariums — had always looked for an excuse to take her fellow Sunlight Sisters to an aquarium whenever they had a show within twenty miles of one. A tradition Rumi eagerly continued with Mira and Zoey. And Bobby, once he became their manager.

She’d even taken Jinu a couple of times. Just by themselves. The most recent one to this very aquarium, right before he left for his world tour. 

“You alright?” 

Rumi blinked, jerking back upon realizing Mi Cha was peering right at her. She just nodded.

“You sure?” Mi Cha’s translucent eyes glittered in the light. “Looking a little red.”

“I’m fine.” Rumi whispered as she marched forward into the building. “Let’s just get inside so you can see the sea life and move on to the afterlife.”

“Oh.” Mi Cha tutted mockingly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t like me.” Rumi glowered at her — discreetly, they were in public now. “If I’m being honest, you should try and win me over.” The ghost teased. “After all, I’m rather close to someone you hold dear to your heart.”

“If even half of the heresy you’ve spewed is remotely true, Dal Rae will be glad to see you gone!” Rumi hissed. Mi Cha just grinned sharply. But her mischief quickly faded into genuine awe as they came across their first fish tank. 

“My goodness,” she whispered in awe, stepping up to the glass. “Look at them all. What are…” she trailed off as she noticed one of the signs detailing the exhibit. “...Fascinating.”

Rumi stood beside Mi Cha, simply admiring the colorful fish floating before them. She’d always liked sea life, even before Celine introduced her to aquariums. Growing up on Jeju Island pretty much guaranteed a familiarity and fondness with the ocean. She remembered one of her first concepts for an idol group — before she actually started training to become one — was aquatic themed. Performing exclusively on coastlines and with water-based choreography.

Completely unrealistic and untenable, but Celine, at least, played along back then.

“Hey.” Rumi jolted when Mira lightly shook her arm. “C’mon. We’re losing the ghost.” She looked around, blinking as Mi Cha marched through people to the next exhibit, Zoey hurriedly brushing past the shuddering, pale guests.

“Honestly,” Rumi grumbled. “She’s just so— Didn’t she say she was eighty when she died? You’d think she’d have some sense.” 

“Honestly, I hope I’m that cool when I’m that age,” Mira countered.

“Cool?!” Rumi shrieked, only to wince and hunch behind Mira when people turned to look at her. “She is not cool!”

Mira snorted. “You’re just upset that she shattered the perception that Dal Rae’s some saint.”

“You heard what Dal Rae went through,” Rumi glowered at her friend. “What she sacrificed. What she gave up for the well-being of everyone else. Her name shouldn’t besmirched by—”

“A kid she beat in the process?” Mira said, before sighing at Rumi’s pout. “Oh, calm down. Let’s ask, alright? She clearly enjoys getting a rise out of you, so she might just be exaggerating to piss you off. Being… generous, it could be like when Celine kicked our asses all the time in training, and I wouldn’t really call that abusive by any stretch of the word.” Mira chuckled. “Unless you count the brain damage.”

“That was one time!” Rumi grumbled. “And that shrub cushioned my fall so it wasn’t an actual concussion.” Mira merely chuckled once again.

 /+/+/+/+/

“So… that’s what jellyfish look like underwater.” Mi Cha said, rubbing her chin as she peered into the jellyfish tank. “They’re shockingly graceful, for creatures without eyes. Or brains.”

“They are complex in their simplicity,” Rumi replied. “Just bundles of nerves reacting to the environment.”

“We’re all just flesh and nerves.” She paused as Rumi looked at her translucent body. “…You know what I mean.” They shared a giggle — Mi Cha was actually pleasant to be around when she wasn’t being a troll. 

Rumi wet her lips, turning back to the jellyfish tank. Zoey had dragged Mira to stare at the sea turtles, leaving Rumi alone with Mi Cha — and Derpy and Sussie, bobbing in the Honmoon between them. 

“Mi Cha… Did Dal Rae really… hit you?”

“All the time.” The ghost blandly replied, as easily as one would comment on the weather.

Rumi grimaced at the admission. “But… that’s wrong.” She knew Dal Rae came from a different time, but… “No kid deserves to be hit because they’re not following a lesson.”

Celine never hit her for anything — and every strike when training to be a Hunter was quickly followed by a guilty grimace and apology. 

“Oh, that’s not why she hit me,” Mi Cha replied. “Jina and Sunbi were equally liberal with a rod, don’t forget. But they never did so with malice. No, for Dal Rae, that was just an excuse to hit me.” She let loose a bitter chuckle. “That woman utterly despised me.”

“What?” Rumi whipped her head around, eyes wide. “Dal Rae despised you?” Impossible. Dal Rae was so kind and awesome. As true a saint as there ever was. 

“Oh yeah.” Mi Cha rolled her eyes. “Never let me forget it. The day me and my sisters were able to leave the old bag and her fiery glares behind couldn’t come soon enough.”

“B-but why?” Rumi shook her head in disbelief. “What possible reason would she have to hate a child?”

Mi Cha grew silent for a long moment. “…She had to lie.”

“What?”

“Ah, you know.” Mi Cha let out a breath. “It was already a shock when the Honmoon chose me — that it could choose for itself. Dal Rae, Jina, and Sunbi were already training a handful of successors when it led them to me.” Mi Cha grinned sharply. “All those prissy, prim and proper kids already born in the life, and the Honmoon picked me — a grimy, angry little peasant girl they had saved from demons a few months back.”

“So… she hated you because you were poor?” Rumi blinked. “That… doesn’t make sense. Anyone can become a shaman, regardless of their lot in life.”

Unless Dal Rae was a classist — but that couldn’t be! 

“Slaves can’t become shamans.” Mi Cha set her jaw, her next works a low hiss. “Or ‘nobility’.”

Rumi shuddered at the sheer hate in Mi Cha’s voice — the word almost held the same loathing as Seo-ah held towards the Japanese. “Regardless,” Rumi said, “she wouldn’t have to lie about it.”

“No.” Mi Cha nodded. “But she did have to lie that I had spiritual sickness.”

Rumi blinked. Spiritual sickness. Ailments that were born from gods or spirits trying to inhabit your body. Sometimes mental, sometimes physical. Hunters hadn’t used spiritual sickness as a qualifier for… a couple centuries. Not like traditional shamans had, and still do. 

“Yeah.” Mi Cha chuckled. “I had… nothing. No visions. No unknown ailments. I was always sickly and thin as a kid, but once me and my mom moved in with Dal Rae’s family and got actual food in our bellies and a roof over our heads, I was hale as a horse.”

“You moved in with Dal Rae’s family?” Rumi asked, shocked.

“Well, I wasn’t about to leave my mother behind to starve, was I?” Mi Cha arched her brow. 

Rumi squirmed in place, the knowledge of Jinu’s oldest sin knocking around in her head.

Even without Gwi-Ma whispering in his ear at the time, Rumi… couldn’t say what she would do. She’d never known true hunger. To have lived never knowing if you would eat for the day, the week…

She shook her head, distracting herself from the roads best not traveled. “But if Dal Rae was willing to let you move in how could she—”

“Oh, yeah.” Mi Cha snorted. “Ended up regretting it in the end.”

“Because… she lied for you.”

“Well, we all did.”

“And…” Rumi continued, “That’s why she hates you?”

Mi Cha sighed, fixing Rumi with a pitying stare. “…It’s the least messy reason. No, no.” She held up her hand when Rumi made to speak. “That’s all I’m going to say on the subject. I more than made my peace with all that happened between us. Ask Dal Rae for the truth.” A scoff. “If she’ll even admit it.”

Mi Cha shook her head. “Ah, but enough about that old crone.” She smiled softly. “I want to thank you, Rumi.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Rumi smiled back. “I mean, you guys shouldn’t be stuck here for anything.”

“Not that.” Mi Cha’s smile widened. “I want to thank you for taking care of my brother. Jinu.”

Rumi froze, the world itself coming to a stop. “I… you… what?”

“Jinu. My brother.” Mi Cha’s grin—Jinu’s grin, Rumi realized with growing shock—grew mischievous as she lifted a hand above her head. “About this tall. Same eyes as me. An utterly selfish bastard until you got your hands on him.”

“Jinu… is your brother.”

“…Yeah.” Mi Cha bent down, drawing Derpy and Sussie up from the ground to scratch the former’s chin. 

“Jinu. Your brother?” 

“...Did you hit your head?”

“I… I don’t… how is that possible?” Jinu spoke little about his family, for good reason, but he said that his sister was sweet and kind and far better than he deserved. But also sickly and, in his bitter, self-loathing words, naive and trusting. 

“Well, our parents loved each other very much...”

“Not that!” Rumi hissed, before deflating. “I mean… he left you outside the palace walls. He said you died hungry.”

“I’m sure he thought that,” Mi Cha replied mockingly. “Good to know he thought of us after he abandoned us.”

“Don’t say that,” Rumi pleaded. “He— He hates himself so much for what he did.”

“Not enough that he didn’t leave in the first place,” Mi Cha muttered darkly, her translucent body fraying at the edges. But a worried purr from Derpy and soothing coo from Sussie prompted her to take a deep breath. 

“…I looked for him, after my sisters and I were deemed ‘suitable’.” Mi Cha sighed. “Got us an audience at the palace and asked around. I…” She clenched her hands into fists. “I wanted to show him what a fool he was, to abandon us. Rub it in his face that he didn’t have to leave to feed himself. Throw all the pain and resentment back at him.”

The ghost smiled sadly. “You know how many people knew him? One old groundskeeper that liked to listen to my brother practice at night. I had to bribe a court official to help me find a record of his death.” She turned away from Rumi, staring at the floating jellyfish. “Ten years. My brother lived ten years in luxury before dying of a burst belly. He was so young… too young…” Mi Cha shook her head. “Or so I thought. Until I saw him centuries later in a damn bathhouse of all things. A demon.”

Rumi wrung her hands together. “I… I don’t know what to say. But this is good, right?” She smiled softly. “You and Jinu, you guys can see each other again. Just give me a few days to get in touch with him, and he’ll come running! You two can talk and—”

“No.” Mi Cha cut her off. 

Rumi reared back. “N-No?”

Mi Cha hummed. “I don’t want to see him.”

“But Jinu spent four hundred years torturing himself over what he did!”

“And I’m sure that was awful for him.” Mi Cha smiled sadly. “But Rumi… I was eight when he left me and our mother behind. In life, I lived to be eighty. In death, I spent nearly four hundred years in the Honmoon. He hurt me. Hurt me a lot. But he was only a small part of my life, in the grand scheme of things.”

She reached out to cup Rumi’s face — a chill running down her spine. “Besides, he has you now. Someone to bring him into the future, not leave him stuck in the past.”

Rumi shook her head. “B-But don’t you—”

“Rumi,” Mi Cha cut her off again, a touch forceful. “No.” Even Derpy and Sussie called out sadly, but Mi Cha just sighed. “He might need it, but I don’t. And for once, I’d like to be the selfish sibling.”

Rumi faltered, feeling the need to fight for Jinu. But… Mi Cha was right. They… they were the past. What happened would never go away, no matter what. And asking her to stay just for Jinu’s sake would be cruel to both of them. 

Still, she asked, “Is there at least a message or something you want me to give him?”

Mi Cha hummed. “Tell him… tell him mother never blamed or hated him for what he did. Not even for a moment.”

“…And yourself?”

“I…” Mi Cha frowned. “I learned to forgive him.” Her form started to brighten. “And, one day, I hope he can truly come to forgive himself.” And with that, she vanished.

 /+/+/+/+/

“I just can’t believe that Jinu’s sister was a Hunter,” Mira said in disbelief as they entered the elevator to their penthouse.

Zoey shook her head. “Sister a Hunter, brother a demon. It’s…” — she slowly waved her hands above her in a wide arc — “cosmic!”

“It’s certainly something,” Rumi mumbled, hugging her shoulders.

“...You gonna tell him?” Zoey asked.

“Of course.” Rumi sighed. “But…after he’s done with his trip. I—I want to be with him, when I tell him.” She smiled sadly. “He’ll need someone to talk to, maybe even hold him, as he processes everything. He shouldn’t be half the world away when he finds out what happened.” Rumi could only imagine how wrecked the news would make him. That his sister and mother lived longer than he had, in, in Rumi’s opinion, much better circumstances.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Zoey cooed, hugging Rumi.

“Yeah, real sweet.” Mira rolled her eyes, striding out first as the elevator doors opened. “Maybe that’ll be the final push you need to punch that V-Card.”

“Mira!” Rumi screeched. “I— we aren’t— he isn’t— we aren’t even dating!”

Zoey grimaced as she pulled away. “That’s sad. I mean, he’s already proven he’s willing to die for you, what else do you need?”

“I- I don’t know!” Rumi spluttered, stepping out the elevator. “Time?”

Zoey sighed dramatically as she slumped past Rumi. “I’ll never be an aunt!”

Rumi stared after her in disbelief. “There’s always Mira!”

“No, there isn’t!” Mira called out, halfway to her room.

Rumi shook her head fondly, only to pause upon seeing Dal Rae staring down at the city from the window. She gulped, steeling her nerves as she walked up to her.

“Ah, Rumi.” The ghost smiled fondly. “Sent another of our sisters on her way?”

“Yeah.” Rumi smiled nervously. “One of your students, actually! A woman named Mi Cha.”

Dal Rae’s face fell into blank shock. Then, for the briefest moment, her hands fisted in her Hanbok, her jaw clenched, and a deep, burning rage bloomed in her eyes. And in the next moment, it was gone. Dal Rae shrank in on herself, sorrow carving deep lines on her face.

“...I see,” she said tightly. 

Rumi cleared her throat, looking away. “She… had a lot to say.”

“I imagine she would.”

“Said…” Rumi had to fight to get the words out. “Said you hated her.”

“...What do you want me to say, Rumi?” Dal Rae scoffed, the sound piercing Rumi’s heart. “Would you like me to lie?”

“Well you lied for Mi Cha so you’ve got practice,” Rumi grumbled, only to freeze when Dal Rae inhaled sharply. She turned back to Dal Rae, eyes wide. “Um…”

“I will not justify my choices to you.” Dal Rae turned back to the city. “Nor shall you judge me for them.”

“Judged you pretty well last night.” Rumi countered. “Never know unless you tell me.”

“...No.” Dal Rae replied, short and clipped. Rumi stared at her for a moment, before sighing and walking away.

 /+/+/+/+/

A/N: I love the fan theory that Jinu’s mother and sister were not only saved by the OG Hunters in the intro of the film, but also, going by the storyboards, his sister became a Hunter after that.