Chapter Text
Rumi stood centerstage and peered out at the vast stadium that, just an hour ago, was filled with adoring fans. Hunters had gotten the performance of a lifetime.
Thousands of people were alight with excitement and utter fascination as they watched their idols fight the Saja Boys and slice through hordes of demons as they raced across the runways to join forces against the ultimate boss, the Gwi-ma. The screams from the crowd were deafening and did little to dispel the disorientation of the fast-paced action all around. Rumi frowned deeply. Had anyone known the real danger they were in, those wouldn't have been roars of cheering and wonder.
Gwi-ma should have won. His power was extraordinary, fit for a demon king, overtaking her and sapping her strength as she strained against its might. Rumi should have died... but then there was Jinu. The anger and confusion she felt at the International Idol Awards had no chance to surface as she locked eyes with the demon who stood in front of her.
"You gave me my soul back… and now, I give it to you."
Rumi gritted her teeth, curling her hands into fists until her nails stabbed her palms painfully. “Damn it.”
Now that the chaos was over and the dust had settled, that short moment of compassion turned in her head like clockwork, her brain picking and prodding at it, haunting her. If everything had gone according to plan, she and her bandmates would've won the Idol Awards and sealed the Golden Honmoon. Jinu would have lived and she would be with her friends worry-free, ready for a nice hiatus on their couch, and no one would know...
No one would know...
A sudden stinging sensation threw her out of her thoughts. She glanced down and saw from her fists trails of red slowly dripping from her hands, scars glowing a faint lavender up to her wrists. Her eyes fixated on a languid drop that formed off her knuckles and then, as if in slow motion, fell in suspended silence. The liquid hit the ground and spattered by her heels, staining them the tiniest bit. No one would have even been aware blood had been there, it was so insignificant, but to Rumi, it stood out like a flashing neon sign.
Right... demons still bled. Still felt pain. But she hadn't cared about that before. Didn't even think it was possible for them to feel pain. Not before Jinu blew up every preconceived notion she had about the vile creatures who stole souls for their master. The blood she bled and the pain she felt was what she believed made her human. Humans could feel and love and were good.
That really wasn't the case, was it.
How else would you have been born?
The purple haired girl shook her head and sighed. She didn't really know the circumstances behind her birth. Celine had always been cryptic about it. "It was best to hide it" is all her adopted mother would say. Dwelling on something like that opened too many dead ends, mysteries she had little to no access to. How could her mother, a demon hunter, be with someone... some thing like that? And in what capacity was their real relationship?
It was too much. If she thought anymore her head would explode.
"Rumi!"
She snapped out of her anguish and turned around, fists pinned behind her back out of sight. Standing in the wings on stage right was Zoey, waving her arms like she was a thousand miles away. "Rumi, we're leaving! Let's blow this joint and go home!"
Further backstage, partially hidden behind a curtain, was Mira watching their leader. Her expression was cool but the tilt of her chin and stiffness in her shoulders told her she was waiting for them.
Rumi felt her nerves light up as she swallowed thickly. Not even a few hours ago she was trapped in a vicious game between them, their faces pulled in hatred and their aggression sending chills down her spine as they shoved her relentlessly back and forth... But that hadn't been them.
What had been them, though, were the looks of shock and horror as they stared at her patterns. The dreaded scars that snaked across every inch of her flesh and glowed a poisonous shade of purple. Rumi had been relieved to find them after the emotional whiplash of seeing demons masquerade as her friends. People she loved. But the way they took a defensive posture and raised their weapons...
When the demon girl had shrieked she could fix it all - her nerves going haywire, her vision becoming unsteady - the realization in both her friends' eyes cemented the worst: she was a monster.
"Hey! C'mon, or Bobby will come out yapping a storm!" the maknae whined, fidgeting with the loose strands in her hair buns. She looked like a little kid with her back hunched over and exhaustion clearly on display.
The violet haired girl let out a shaky breath and shouted back, voice raw from a night of singing her heart out. "Coming! Just... give me a sec. Please."
Zoey looked at her for a moment, a fleeting question dancing across her features before she schooled it into neutrality. The air shifted slightly as a subtle tension settled between the three girls. Rumi winced at the uncharacteristic silence.
Do they trust me?
Do they still see me as a monster?
The pause didn't last long as the youngest pouted her lips and threw her head back. "Fiiiiinnnee.... I'm headed to the bus."
She pivoted and tromped backstage toward the glowing exit sign. Rumi watched her go and as Zoey trudged past Mira, she caught the stare of the lead dancer.
Mira...
Last they spoke, Rumi had lashed out at her. She projected her own sense of insecurity to throw her best friend off her scent. The frustration of not being able to commit to their final song and the rising anger coming off the pink haired girl all crashed together at that critical moment - that moment that if she'd gotten it right could have saved all those people on the train.
After that, the taller girl did not engage with Rumi outside of nonverbal signs and quick yes or no answers. She had been right to distrust her - look at how her lies almost doomed the world. There were a million words unsaid drifting in the space between them. The time wasn't right but eventually they'd have to talk.
Shame fell over Rumi like a thick blanket. A flicker of emotion flashed across the other girl's face before she turned away to follow their younger bandmate. The leader had always prided herself on being able to read the dancer's minute expressions, but this time there were too many factors, questions, and distance to tell what was going on in her mind.
It wasn’t until the distant thud of the exit echoed from backstage that she dropped her hands to her side and glared at her upturned palms. Her hands retained their human form but there was a buzz nestled under her skin, antsy and persistent. The purple glow had faded slightly but it was still there. If she stared long enough she could barely make out the nearly imperceptible flare that fell in time with her pulse.
She first felt this bizarre feeling of heat and ice coursing through her veins when she felt the patterns crawling up her face, arms and legs onstage. The slow progression of her demon lineage suddenly spiked in the presence of an abundance of demon energy, the miasma seeping into the world from the rifts in the Honmoon.
Over the years, the jagged lines had spread from her chest to her shoulders. The first time Celine had noticed, she had become obsessed with looking for ways to stop it. But with their limited resources and the secretive nature of her work hindering further progress, the former idol had to concede and surmised the growth came from interacting with beings from the other side.
Every demon brought the essence of their realm with them; it clung to their beings like a mist. Coming into contact with it didn’t appear to affect either Zoey or Mira, but with the leader’s demon blood it became clear the two were related in her discovery.
Another, much earlier discovery - much to her mentor’s distress - was that humans couldn’t see this mist. It was only Rumi, and she had inadvertently revealed this fact to Celine several years ago one day when she had spotted the fogginess surrounding a man walking amongst a crowd while they were shopping in the mountain village they had lived near.
Curious and determined to figure out this hazy gloom, the young girl broke off from her adoptive mother, darting through the legs and torsos of villagers around her to get to the stranger.
As she got closer, the mysterious figure suddenly shot up and spun around, spotting her near instantly. He took off running through the square. Little Rumi at the time didn’t think much on how this man seemed to figure out he was being pursued, but it didn’t take long to find the answer.
The halfling had a mist of her own.
When Rumi had cornered the fleeing man into an alley, his true form burst out of his disguise. She disposed of the threat quickly, his hissing body disintegrating when her mentor caught up to them. The little girl had initially been excited to show off her successful hunt, but when she was met with a barrage of questions and barely concealed anger, her giddiness extinguished altogether.
Celine was furious.
What were you thinking?! How could you suddenly run away like that?! Do you know what dangers are lurking around us, even in the village? How can I trust taking you to the city if you’re going to disregard your training and disobey me!
It wasn’t until Celine had looked past the child and saw the last of the demon’s body flitter into dust that she stopped yelling. Her gaze flickered between the girl and the spot the creature had drawn its last breath, her mind’s inner cogs turning loudly.
“Rumi…how did you know that man was a demon?”
And she told her.
Over time, Rumi developed her ability to see the essence coming off those that did not belong. Low level demons practically oozed the mist. It wasn’t particularly potent but it shed like dog fur. The stronger ones wore it like an Arabian musk; the dreaded miasma effective enough to disorient, but they were better at hiding it. Rumi was surprised the Saja Boys even pinged their radar. There was no mist at all. The fact that their marks just flashed like that in broad daylight, surrounded by humans; it was almost like they wanted to get caught...
No use in thinking about it now. They're all gone.
The violet haired woman shut her eyes and mumbled under her breath. “We are Hunters, voices strong… Slaying demons with our song. Fix the world and make it right…”
Her brown eyes peered down at her hands, the marks flickering like a candle.
“...when darkness finally meets the light.”
As the mantra slipped from her lips, the glowing died. The lines were still there, of course, but now they were dull silver.
The young woman’s stomach churned at the sight. When she was singing with her friends at the end, she really did believe she could accept herself. All these flaws were just another part of her and they weren’t something horrible.
The words that flowed effortlessly, they felt right. They felt real. And they were real - in the moment.
But even after their song and sealing the Golden Honmoon, when all the excitement and adrenaline ran its course and left the poor girl standing there in the aftermath…
She was still ashamed.
And that freaking mantra…
Rumi lifted her head and let out a humorless laugh.
This was so fucked up.
Deciding she had spent enough time wallowing in her thoughts, lest Bobby actually come in “yapping up a storm”, the popstar let her eyes wander the stadium one last time.
The stands and pit were littered with homemade signs, streamers, and various trash. Many of the fans had left in a dazed whirl. It was possible most were still under the effects of residual mind control. How they had come under the demons' control was not known to Rumi; as far as she was aware, that was a new or rare ability. Just how strong were they? How many souls did they consume?
On the ground in her peripheral there was one particular sign that caught her eye. It was a Saja Boys fansign made of cardboard and construction paper with glitter glue holding the sad thing together. “Saja Boys 4ever” it read. Nothing fancy. Her mind briefly thought of Jinu.
“...and now, I give it to you.”
Whatever he had meant, it didn’t bring her comfort. All she felt was hollow.
Turning her back to the stadium for what she hoped would be the last time in a long while, she walked away.