Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The hand on her back was firm and rough. Keeping her just close enough to monitor, yet at a safe enough distance so she couldn’t get in the way.

Rumi tried to crane her neck around but was forced to move as her feet neared the red boundary on the floor.

Her sneakers squeaked agonizingly as she turned and the hand caught her shirt, pulling itself along as to not lose her.

Another body was on her in seconds. Strong. Tall. Firm.

Blocking.

In the way.

Pushed flush against her.

Back on back, her hand covering Rumi’s torso.

Mira laughed as Rumi was forced to turn again, only to be passed off to a grinning Zoey, her small stature being of no hinderance as her hands easily covered Rumis vision.

They weren’t supposed to grip her, not like that.

It was illegal contact, by all accounts.

But Mira’s hand was firmly on her shoulder, holding onto her shirt and pushing her roughly along the field. Zoey’s was tangled in the hem or her jersey, ripping it to the side, revealing the barrage of bruises that Rumi sported. Bruises they were largely responsible for.

Rumi broke free for just a second, side stepping Mira’s grip and wrenching herself from Zoey’s grasp on her jersey.

She turned, step one, two and three, -wait she didn’t have the ball, she could do more- four, five, she panted, eyes wide as she searched for her teammate.

Her eyes met Jinu’s.

Her left arm was up.

The ball, quick, sticky and heavy, landed in it, nigh propelling her back.

Mira was on her again, hand around Rumi’s arm, pushing it down with unbridled force, the other snaking itself around Rumi’s torso to keep her firmly in place. All while carefully avoiding her neck.

Mira’s grip was strong, slowly inching Rumi’s arm down to her side. Rumi let the ball drop to her right hand, relishing the look of surprise on Mira’s face and squirmed it out of her opponents iron grip, a grip that most certainly would leave another bruise in the days to come.

But having one arm free didn’t mean much. Mira was taller, blocking Rumi’s vision. Her arms were back on their previous position. Rumi could barely see, barely maneuver her arms. Mira had her hips locked, restricting her legs. But she had to do something.

So she jumped.

Her powerful momentum crashed them forward as she kicked off into the boundary with her left foot, strength carrying Mira down with her.

Mira’s grip increased, her hands bearing into Rumi’s sides. Rumi payed her no mind as she swung her right arm, ball detaching from her hand with a snap as she swung it into the empty goal, straight into the corner of the net, where it sent a shock wave through the rest of it.

They crashed into the sticky floor.

Mira grunted below her, taking the brunt of the fall. Rumi rolled on her arm, mitigating any harm. They lay there. Panting.

A second of quiet.

Then.

A jeer from Zoey.

A smile from Mira.

“Good job.” Mira muttered between breaths from below her and gave Rumi a reassuring pat on the back.

Strong and firm still. It stung a bit.

Rumi laughed down at her, slowly scrambling to her knees, straddling Mira inside the forbidden zone that usually was Rumis domain.

“Knew you’d make a great pivot.” Mira chuckled out, sitting up as much as Rumi’s position on top of her allowed her to, resting on her elbows.

Rumi nodded down at her, heart still hammering in her chest as she tried to parse out what had just happened.

It was unusual.

Odd.

Rumi hated getting hurt.

She hated blemishes on her skin that she had to cover up.

She hated sweat that would need to be concealed.

She hated crowds.

She hated yelling.

She hated eye contact.

She hated to be touched.

Oh did she ever hate getting touched.

She hated everything that had just occurred.

So why.

Why, on the floor, covered in scratches, bruises, sweat, sticky resin, on top of Mira, being cheered at from Zoey, experiencing the amalgamation of everything she supposedly hated, why.

Why was she so damn comfortable?

Chapter Text

“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!” Jinu’s voice was hyper, despite the fact that Rumi knew he had slept maybe an hour, tops.

“You’re gonna love it here, promised- the people are great, the weather is wonderful- the women hot-“ Rumi stiffened, her hands running along the rough edges of the cardboard box she was holding.

“Jinu!” She chided. Laughter met her at the other end of the phone. She groaned.

“Hot men too- seriously- it’s great here.” Rumi sighed, setting the box down and scribbling “glass” on it with black marker. The marker squeaked uncomfortably against the cardboard surface.

“Most importantly. They have a good environmental science program. And nobody knows me there.” She added onto Jinus terrible list, getting up and scanning the room for the next object to label, happy to find it pretty cleared out by now.

She was making solid progress.

“Oh yeah that too.” He said, as if he didn’t very deliberately tell her about the program just a few months ago.

The conversation lulled as Rumi kept packing.

She didn’t pack much. Just essentials.

Basic clothing. Nothing expensive, at least for her standards, nothing elaborate. She could buy that again later.
Electronics. Her laptop of course was a must have for the adventure she was about to partake in. And she was not facing this without at least three sets of noise cancelling headphones.

Her stuffed bears. At least the top 15, she was sad to leave the rest behind, but her collection was in the triple digits. So top 15 was good for now. She could always face time the others.

Her bear onesie, of course.

Her bear plates and cups and bowls.

Just the essentials.

The bear essentials. Heh.

She could buy anything else she needed once she actually got to California after all. Money was the least of her concerns.

“Hey listen.” Oh dear, Jinu sounded guilty. That was never a good start. Rumi braced herself for whatever he was about to say next.

“I know I said I’d be there when you start but- I’ve kinda been roped into something. A shoot for a music video.” Ugh. Of course he would flake on her.

Rumi sat down on her bed, keeping her posture straight as a ruler, resisting the urges in her to move.

Deep breath in. And out. In. Out.

“That’s great for you.” Ouch, even she could tell how fake that sounded.

“I know that was sarcastic- but it actually is yeah! But that’s beside the point-“ Something on his end creaked. A chair? Didn’t matter.

“My point is- I did organize someone to chaperone you. I’m not leaving you hanging here.” Rumi scowled. Chaperone. Like she was a child and not a 25 year old woman. Her hands found the mattress, softly playing with it. Stay calm Rumi.

“Her name is Zoey-she’s super cute and really nice- I’m sure you’ll hit it off!” Jinu continued as if he couldn’t tell he had upset Rumi.

Which like, in his defense, how would he tell. They were on opposite ends of the world. On a phone call.

The name Zoey rang a bell at least. He’d mentioned her before. So she was at least a little bit trustworthy. Maybe.

In. Out. In. Out

Okay.

“Jinu. I don’t know the girl.” She really didn’t want to be left on her own here.And she did not want to meet new people. She did not! like this plan change in the slightest.

Why was her heart getting so loud?!

“Not yet you don’t! She’ll be at the opening day booth of our little sports club! Oh she’s actually co-founder with me-You can meet her then!” He sounded far too chipper for ruining Rumi's week. Maybe he was just that sleep deprived. Maybe she just needed better friends.

“I can’t have her number?” Now why did Jinu laugh at that. Rumi groaned. The bedroom light was getting too bright. She had to squint her eyes closed.

“Oh how forward of you Rumi.” Ugh she wanted to punch him for that ridiculously smug tone. Her hands flexed a bit. Just a little bit of movement. Controlled. Slow. It didn’t help much.

“But nah you can’t- she dropped her phone in the ocean yesterday.” Sorry she what now. How does one do that. Who in the world was he introducing Rumi to?!

Really, what was she expecting. This Zoey girl was friends with Jinu of all people. Of course she’d probably be as terrible of a friend as him.

Part of her knew she was being unfair to Jinu.

That part however was currently being strangled by the rage that was slowly building up in her. Another flex of her finger. Deep inhale.

Fucking plan change. Fucking new person.

Fucking hell.

“And she won’t get it fixed for another week. She’s out at sea right now actually. Left this morning.” Jinu continued as if Rumi wasn’t folding in on herself with unreasonable anger. Of course she was. Of fucking course she was out at fucking sea.

Rumi let out an audible groan.

That’s just what she needed.

Unpredictably in a person like that.

No thanks.

“Look it’ll be fine. She’ll be at the booth, you can give her your number then. Maybe talk. Become friends. Easy.” Easy, her ass.

Rumi got up and turned the offending light off. It was getting extremely bright. Her heart was still racing. She didn’t like the plastic texture of the light switch.

“Hey I gotta go- but don’t worry- I’ll make sure she’s there! Toodles!” Before Rumi even got the chance to say goodbye- or curse Jinu out, she wasn’t sure what would have come out of her mouth- Jinu hung up.

Rumi sighed and hung her head in defeat.

Fine.

She could do this.

Totally.

Get back to packing.

Then ask Celine to help her move everything to the car.

She got this.

—-

Apart from the jet lag, Rumi did actually quite like California.

Her apartment was nice. Expensive, sure, but nothing she couldn’t afford. Frankly there was probably very little she couldn’t afford.

It was clean, open. Had a big bedroom, large living room. Nice kitchen that Rumi was a bit scared to use. And a bathroom with less buttons than she was used to.

The fridge was a bit loud and the lights a bit bright but. She could deal. She didn’t have to turn the lights on after all and she had headphones.

The weather was warm. Nice. Rumi could enjoy it on her balcony with an iced coffee. It wasn’t humid and Rumi loved it.

Unfortunately, most of her time was taken up with unpacking and buying new essentials, so she couldn’t enjoy it quite as much as she wanted to.

She had made the move far to closely to the start of classes, an unfortunate after effect of deciding to move so late in the first place, which meant she didn’t have all too much time to get her shit together.

Celine of course, was endlessly worried about that time crunch. Amongst many other things.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” Celines’s voice was worried, as worried as she had sounded over the last year already. It was starting to become her default tone of voice.

Rumi appreciated it, but she was an adult. She could, should, make her own choices. And this happened to be one of them.

“I am. Never been more sure of anything, actually.” It was the answer she always gave.

As much as all of this had her downright terrified- she wanted this. Had to do this.

Celine sighed on the other end of the phone. Resigned. It had been her last ditch attempt to get Rumi back home.

“I.. okay.” A pause.

“Just know you always have a place back home.” Rumi hummed an affirmative response. The line went silent for another moment, but Rumi didn’t hang up, not just yet. She knew Celine was trying to continue the conversation.

“Have you stocked up on groceries for the week?” And there it was.

Rumi’s eyes fell on the humming fridge, which was actually full for once. Not with the most nutritious food perhaps, but that hadn’t been the question.

“I have.” She responded as she slung on a light long sleeved shirt. It was soft, comfortable. If a bit warm for the end of summer.

“You’ve signed up to your classes right?” Rumi almost laughed. This was the sixth time Celine had asked. She chortled out an affirmative yes as she paced around the small apartment, gathering her jingling keys and her wallet.

The seams of her trusty teddy bear wallet were rough. Ripping in some spots. Discolored a bit. But it was comfortable to hold. A comfort item.

“Have you made any friends yet?” Rumi rolled her eyes, but not mockingly. It was just amusing how much trust Celine had in her very non existent social skills.

“I moved in three days ago, so no. Not unless you count-“ She was interrupted by Celine’s voice.

“Jinu doesn’t count. I mean new friends.” Celine didn’t sound bitter per se. But she didn’t like Jinu and she showed it openly. Rumi wasn’t sure why exactly. Maybe because he was part of the reason she was in California now in the first place.

“I will make new friends. Promised.” Rumi put on her hat, relishing in the lack of light it provided. She hated squinting at the sun, it was far too bright, even in her living room.

“Maybe today. It’s the introduction day with clubs presenting themselves. I’m being kinda forced to go so I can meet one of Jinu’s friends because he bailed on me. So yknow. Maybe.” She heard a groan on the other end of the line. She did kind of agree with that sentiment.

“Please. Please talk to other people too.” Celine was almost begging her. She definitely didn’t trust any friends that Jinu had made in the states. Rumi just gave a soft laugh.

“I will, don’t worry.” She looked herself over in the mirror quickly.

Carabiner with her keys and of course a bear keychain, fastened to the right belt-loop off of her hip. Hat covering her eyes just a bit. Long purple hair in a low braid, nearly reaching the middle of her thighs. Shorts that reached just above her knees. Covering just enough of her skin to not show any scarring.

Tank top, covered with a light yet far too warm white linen button up.

Not her most stylish, perhaps. But it would do. She didn’t want to stand out too much after all.
She’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

“Alright I’m headed out. I’ll text you how it went.” Rumi spoke into her phone, pocketing her headphones. The plastic of their casing was nice and cool.

“Okay. Good luck Rumi.” A pause.

“Je t'aime. J'espère que tu le sais.”

“Je sais, Celine.” Rumi's voice softened at Celine’s mother tongue.

“I love you too.”

And with that she was out the door.

—-

It was warm.

It was so damn warm.

Rumi stumbled into the next building of the campus, a large gym hall by the looks of it, grateful to be blasted by the cool air conditioning.

While all the booths were indoors, the walks between the buildings were still sweltering. At least for someone who was double layered, as Rumi was.
She had half a mind to take her outer layer off. But she really didn’t want that attention. Not on the first day. She was getting sick and tired of explaining her accident, thank you very much.

It wasn’t even necessarily traumatic anymore. Just. So exhausting.

So she suffered a bit.
She leaned against the wall of the entrance hall, the cool stone helping bring her body heat back down.

This was the last building. Zoey was somewhere here. She could do this.

She had been true to her promise to Celine. She had talked to people- far too many people- read their intros, looked at their offerings.

None of them looked enticing.

She had had perfectly enough of acting.

Enough of singing. At least publicly.

She didn’t want anything where she alone would be in the spotlight.

She wasn’t interested in photography, at least not in a group setting. She had done dance already, swimming, hiking, even bird watching, much to Celine’s chagrin.

It really was a problem she hadn’t thought she would encounter.

But her odd nepo baby, childhood and teenage movie star and singer, with Celine of all people as a parent upbringing, had led to her developing far too many skills for her age.

Boohoo her, she’d had a fulfilling life, all things considered. Weep for her.

Ugh, the lights in this building were loud and bright.

She sighed.

Maybe there would be something here she hadn’t done yet. Maybe. This was primarily where all the sports clubs were after all, and of all activities, sports, specifically team sports, were some of the few she had little experience with.

She started walking, hand still on the cold, calming wall.

Her feet squeaked ever so slightly on the floor.

She walked past the solo sports booths.

She’d done javelin, archery, shooting, the works.

She kept walking, circling the booths, happy nobody else was at the wall.

She didn’t want to do soccer. And her brief foray into basketball had made it clear that it was not for her either. Same could be said for baseball. Poor Celine’s face had to suffer on that end. Thankfully it had only been a foam bat that had hit her.

Halfway through.

This was getting a lot.
The lights were bright and even her hat could only do so much. The people were loud. The building rough. She didn’t like how rough the wall was all of a sudden.

Rumi pulled her hand back like the wall had insulted her.

Fine.

She could do this.

Find Jinu’s friend- which was easier said than done, given the description he had texted her was “your type” and “turtles”- neither of which was helpful in the slightest- make small talk, maybe exchange numbers, probably make no friends and then go home and crash.

Her shoe squeaked again against the gym floor.

Ugh, she wished she could put headphones on for this conversation.

Her eyes scanned the booths, looking for.. what. Turtles? She could not just be looking out for a cute girl. That was weird and unreliable.

Okay.

So she was looking for turtles.

A sports booth with turtles.

A sports booth with a sport that she didn’t actually know very well and definitely wouldn’t be able to recognized at first glance either.

So okay.

She did know what turtles looked like. As much as she hated the vagueness of it all, this was her best bet.

Her eyes kept searching.

Ugh, the colors everyone was wearing were a smidge overwhelming.

She cringed.

Don’t give up.

She got this.

As she rounded the last few booths, her eyes got caught on a hint of green.

Turtles?

Her gaze landed on the person who was wearing a green turtle bucket hat.

Rumi blinked.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah never mind.

Jinu’s description had been extremely precise actually.

Rumi was taking in probably the most concentrated amount of turtle per square meter that she had ever seen in her life.

Turtle shoes. Turtle themed sports shorts that Rumi was almost certain were technically meant for children. Turtle jersey- an Aquarium merch piece by the looks of it. Turtle bucket hat.

And the most dazzling smile Rumi had ever had the pleasure and honor of witnessing.

Wow.

The girl- Zoey, she was sure of it, it must be her- was jumping up and down as she talked to one of the people at the booth. Her eyes were wide, that beautiful smile matching as she chattered away.

Her hair was loose, falling a bit past shoulder length, flowing out from beneath the ridiculously cute hat.

It bounced along with Zoey’s movement.

The sight was mesmerizing.

Zoey was constantly moving.

Pointing, rocking, bouncing.

Just. Moving.

It made Rumi's body itch.

She ignored it.

Rumi used the sliver of discomfort to smack herself back to reality. To look at the booth as she waited for Zoey to finish her conversation. To analyze the sport.

First, the booth. It was.. small. Less professional than Rumi would have expected. It looked extremely hand made.

Little doodles littered their sign and flyers, mostly of turtles, though Rumi could make out some sharks amongst the mix as well.

They had camping chairs set up for Zoey and a missing second attendant.

The booth itself was most certainly a picnic table with a table cloth draped over it.

She almost preferred this style.

It was informal, small. Jinu had admitted to her that didn’t even have enough players to truly be a team. Maybe she should have expected a diy booth like this, really.

She kind of liked that idea. A small team meant no pressure to perform. No games to play in either, to draw attention to herself. It wasn’t bad if she sucked at it either if there were no stakes involved.

Next.

The game itself.

Jinu had told her a little bit about it. But he himself hadn’t been much of expert either. He just wanted to make a club and play a sport and for some reason he was too good for all already available options.
The poster didn’t really give much away.

Just someone jumping into the air, roughly cantaloupe sized ball in their hand, arm twisted back with it as if winding up to shoot.

It was an indoor sport at least, that she could tel from the picture.

And she knew it involved contact.

She was hoping there was a position that didn’t because otherwise, no matter how much she liked Jinu, she was not playing.

When she focused her gaze back onto the whole booth her stomach dropped.

It was empty again, save for Zoey, who was looking down and doodling something on one of the flyers.

Rumi wasn’t a betting person but she would put down at least 500 USD on that Zoey was drawing a turtle.

Inhale.

Exhale.
She got this.

Zoey was expecting her, this shouldn’t be all too awkward. Hopefully. Please don’t be awkward.

She took the last few steps, finding herself directly above Zoey, who was fully immersed in her art- and yep Turtle. Called it.

Rumi fiddled with her keys before pulling her hand straight to the side of her body.

She cleared her throat a bit.

That seemed to snatch Zoey’s attention, who looked up at her with confusion. Then shock.

Rumi realized how she was towering over the girl and took a quick step back.

Zoey’s eyes were wide as her jaw hung loose. She shut it, quickly. Panicked look spreading on her dace just as quickly. Wow, Rumi must have really startled the poor girl.

The pencil she was holding dropped to the table as Zoey started very subtly bouncing on her chair.

Oh please Rumi, please don’thave frightened her.

“Sorry-“ Rumi started up, startled by how high pitched her voice was. She cleared her throat again quickly.

“Sorry. Are you Zoey?” Rumi asked, more so out of politeness than anything else because how could it not be her. Turtles and her type. Jinu hadn’t been lying and the more Rumi looked at the girl, the more right he was getting. She wasn’t a huge fan of that. She could never tell him. It would get to his head too much.

Zoey’s entire motions stopped dead at Rumi’s words. Her jaw hung open again. Had Jinu not told her that Rumi was coming? It wasn’t unlikely, Rumi was starting to realize.

Zoey nodded, rigidly. Pen back in her hand, twirling and moving around her fingers. Her very dexterous and clearly talented fi- stop! Stop! No!!

Rumi pulled the breaks on her brain as she snapped her gaze back to meet Zoey’s still wide eyes. Wide, sparkling, really pretty eyes.

Fuck you, Jinu.

“I uh- Jinu told me to find you? I don’t know if he told you but he said that you would give me the run down of your little club? And maybe help me get set up for training? If he didn’t tell you that’s fine I can wait until he’s back I-“ Oh no she was rambling.

“He told me.” Zoey’s voice was a bit breathy but firm as she interrupted Rumi. And oh no it was pretty too.

Zoey seemed to recollect herself as she shook her hands a bit and then her head- an odd display- before getting up and stretching out her hand.

“Sorry you just startled me- yeah, I’m Zoey- You must be… Rumi?” Zoey’s voice got questioning at the end, laced with something that Rumi couldn’t quite place. Reverence? No, that couldn’t be right.

Rumi reached out and shook Zoey’s hand. It was smaller than hers. Soft. Oddly comfortable. But wow, her grip was firm. Rumi did not like where that sent her brain.

“Yeah- I’m sorry Jinu forced this on you.” They parted again. Zoey stayed standing, eyes locked on Rumi as she rocked back and forth on her feet.

“Oh not a problem- I was gonna be here either way- gotta represent, yknow?” Her voice was bouncy. Energetic. Bright. Enamoring.

Rumi found herself smiling softly. Oh this was bad.

“Anyways! Jinu said you just moved here right? From- oh shit wait!” Zoey jumped as if she had been electrocuted her hands flying up to her mouth in shock.

“Sorry!” Oh. Oh no. She had switched to Korean. Keep calm Rumi you got this. Don’t act like a fool.

“Your english is really good but this is probably more comfortable right?” Her voice stayed bouncy, excited. Now with a hint of concern and softness. Her hands found themselves on the pen on the table and she went back to flicking it around with elaborate tricks.

“Yeah. Comfortable.” It was. A little bit. Not that Rumi would describe much of anything as particularly comfortable, but her mother tongue was a little bit calming amidst everything.

“Thanks.” She let out lowly, almost involuntarily. Zoey’s breath stuttered for a moment. Had she not heard her.

“No problem!” Okay no she had heard her. Good.

Zoey grabbed one of the flyers off the table with haste. Seemed like everything she did was quick, precise.

“So- Jinu said you’d be interested in joining?” It was more of a statement. A way to get Rumi’s opinion on the situation.

“I’m certainly curious. But mostly I need to make some friends and he’s kind of the only person I know here so. Yknow.” She shrugged. Zoey laughed lightly. And oh that laugh.

“Yeah I figured this was more of a bullied into it kinda deal.” She laughed again before handing Rumi the flyer. It was made of rough, cheap paper.

“But! We’ll take you anyway we can. Bullied or otherwise! We really need some more people!” Rumi blinked at Zoey’s words. Nothing in her bouncy, energetic, cheerful demeanor indicated that the innuendo had been on purpose. Head outa the gutter Rumi.

“We play Tuesday’s and Thursday’s - nothing formal, usually half-court and incomplete positions. Less complete if you join of course!” Oh great, Now Zoey was getting on the peer pressure band wagon too.

“Do you know the sport already?” Rumi shook her head at the question. She did not trust her voice right now.

“That’s fine- I’m a great coach, you’ll get the hang of it in no time!” Zoey thumped on her chest in full confidence. Somehow, Rumi believed her.

“If you come next week, I can show you the basics- it’ll be just us- unless someone else joins and frankly, my hopes ain’t high on that-“ Wait hold up.

Just them?

“Why just us?” Rumi truly hoped she didn’t sound as panicked as she had just felt. She clamped her hands into her shorts pockets to avoid them moving.

“Jinu and his little gang are out of town doing that music shoot.” Oh. So Jinu had formed a club with his group of friends and then flaked completely. Yeah. That checked out.

Part of Rumi was wondering if he had scheduled his level like this on purpose.

She would not put it past him.

Her hands gripped the fabric of the pockets to stop herself from moving too much.

“But yeah better for us-I can teach you the rules, the positions, how to handle balls, footwork, all that jazz.” Zoey rattled off as if half of those were not innuendos in their own rights. Did she like not hear herself or something? Was she somehow that pure of heart?

Rumi could definitely tell her cheeks were slowly getting red. It was silly and kind of pathetic but a pretty girl was talking about showing her positions and apparently that’s all it took. Oh this was sad.

“Do you have sports gear? You’ll need some indoor sneakers and sports clothes.” Rumi had neither, but that was fine. She could buy that by Tuesday, easily. So she nodded yes.

“Perfect!” Zoey fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone- looks like it had recovered from the ocean- only to squeak and close it again before Rumi could even see her lock screen brighten. Zoey looked up at her, almost nervous.

“Uhm. Can I have your phone? I’ll put my number in for better planning.” Rumi shrugged. Maybe Her phone battery was dying or something.

She fumbled for her device in her back pocket, taking far too long really, and handed it to Zoey once she had opened up her contact folder.

Zoey took a minute, typing around before handing it back.
Rumi checked the chat that Zoey had opened, clearly having texted herself. With a turtle emoji. Yeah that tracked.

Her eyes fell on Zoey’s contact name.

🐢Zoey🐢

Yep.

Made sense.

Yikes was she cute.

“I’ll text you the details- they’re on the flyer too but yknow. Paper goes missing.” Zoey seemed more nervous suddenly. Was Rumi overstaying her welcome? Should she go home?

She didn’t really want to. Not anymore.

Odd.

“Appreciate it.” Why was she so bad at conversation. Ugh. That’s what being media trained and only socializing for contacts got her, she supposed.

“No problem! Also like- feel free to text me if you need help around campus or something- I know the place wayyy better than Jinu.” Zoey laughed, a bit awkward and quick. Still cute though. Her hands waved all over the place as she spoke.

“Thanks- I uh- if it’s not too much trouble- I probably will. This place is a maze.” That earned her a sympathetic look.

“Yeah when I first got here I got lost at least twenty times, I getcha.” Rumi was glad this wasn’t just her having no sense of direction. Though it definitely was that too.

“Anyway- I’ll text you the deets- make sure to bring a water bottle and-“ Zoey cut herself off mid sentence, her jaw going slack again as her eyes focused on something behind Rumi. Her movement stopped, if for just a moment. She looked tense. Confused. In awe?

“What the fuck..?” Rumi barely heard it- and she was frankly surprised that Zoey could swear because that was not the vibe she gave off.

Rumi wasn’t sure if she should turn around. Was that socially appropriate? Would it be rude? Or was it rude not to?

Thankfully, she was saved from her thoughts as whatever- whoever- Zoey was looking at, walked up right next to the table, keeping a small space from Rumi. Not too far away, not too close.

Was Rumi allowed to look now? Was that still rude??

“I thought I heard Korean but damn-“ Rumi blinked. That voice. It couldn’t be. No way. Not halfway across the globe. Not a decade later. No fucking way.

“What are the odds.” The voice was light. Welcoming. Joking. In awe. A little bit breathless in a way she was clearly trying to cover up.

Rumi's head snapped to look at the woman speaking, social rules here or there. Zoey was still rigid. Staring.

Rumi had of course been keeping tabs on her… what even had they been? But she had been keeping tabs. She knew what to expect when she looked over. She knew her hair had grown long, that she had dyed it pink. She knew she was toned and she knew she was tall.

None of that knowledge prepared her for meeting the absolutely stunning woman in front of her in person though.

Tall didn’t do her justice. Her legs were long. Toned. Very visible with her mini skirt- far more weather appropriate than Rumi, really. Her presence was radiant. Hair a luxurious shade of deep pink that framed her face perfectly.

Toned didn’t really do her justice either.

Not with her abs showing off like that, with the cropped tank top she was wearing. It was as if she was actually trying to kill Rumi, with the way her arms flexed subtly, the only hint that she too, was nervous.

Their eyes met.

Probably far later than they should have, given how Rumi’s own had wandered. And by the slight shade of pink and the small smirk on the woman’s face, she was thinking that too.

Rumi blinked.

She had to say something.

Anything.

“Mira..?”

Chapter Text

When she had first heard Rumi’s voice, distant and muffled by the myriad of other sounds filling the gymnasium, Mira had brushed it off.

It wasn’t infrequent after all, that she would hear Rumi, somewhere in a crowd, only for it to be one of her songs or her movies or heck, press appearances, that someone was playing loudly without headphones.

It was even less infrequent, that she would simply imagine Rumi’s voice calling her name, though at the very least her brain allowed that to occur mostly in the middle of the night when the evil emotions hit.

All this to say, she hadn’t payed it too much attention.

But then the voice kept talking.

Loudly.

Live.

This voice wasn’t filtered through a speaker, ringing through her ears, distorted by technology that could never hope to properly represent her. It didn’t sound distraught and 14 as it did oh so often in her head at night.

It was soft, hesitant. Lighter than she remembered and certainly older. Richer and yet, far more hesitant.

One thing was becoming clear to Mira as she pushed herself through the crowd, towards the source of that voice.

It was Rumi.

She didn’t know how it was even possible, how Rumi would ever end up here, on the other side of the globe, how they could ever hope to reunite, but she certainly wasn’t going to question it.

Mira stumbled out of the crowd, less gracefully than she would have liked, and paused, her breath uneven, heart pounding.

There. At a small booth, tucked into the corner of the room, was Rumi. It was unmistakably her. Her hair alone was a dead giveaway.

Rumi’s voice was clearer now- wait she speaking in Korean- but not loud. Still demanding attention, or at least, Mira’s attention, even if she may not yet know that.

Mira took a deep breath. She straightened out her skirt, not really a necessary action given how short it was, but she would be damned if she looked even slightly disheveled when she approached Rumi.

Her long fingers ran through her open hair, thankful she had only just yesterday touched up her roots.

She took out her phone, giving her face a quick look over with help of her camera. A crude mirror really, but it would do.

Satisfied that her eyeliner still looked perfect and that her subtle but present lip stick wasn’t smudged in the slightest, she pocketed her phone.

Okay.

Here went nothing.

She took another second to psych herself up to walk over. To approach Rumi. To talk to her.

Hopefully, reunite with her.

A lump formed in her throat.

Would Rumi want to see her again? After ten years? After what had happened?

She shook her head.

Worst she could say was no.

Mira knew that definitely wasn’t true, and her brain was solidly on its merry way, conjuring up worse scenarios than a simple “no”, but she decided she had to cut it off now or she would never have the courage to do this.

One step forward.

Two.

Three.

She heard a low swear word, presumably from whoever was attending the booth. Her voice was cute but Mira was anything but focused on her at this very moment.

Rumi looked rooted to the spot.

Stiff, hands on her side, head firmly looking at the attendant.

Mira grimaced internally but kept walking, finally standing next to Rumi, with a good amount of distance between the two. If Rumi was anything like a decade ago, she would need her personal space.

Mira inhaled deeply before speaking, keeping her voice level and lacing it with a bit of mirth and hope. She cursed internally at how breathless she still sounded.

“I thought I heard Korean but damn-“ Rumi straightened, eyes still fixed forward. Mira focused on Rumi, a bit rudely ignoring the student behind the booth, which was probably why she could feel the student stare intently at her, but she couldn’t get herself to care. Not with Rumi in front of her.

“What are the odds.”

That did it.

Rumi’s head snapped to look at Mira with a frankly impressive speed.

Her jaw went slack as her eyes found Mira. Not Mira’s own eyes, Mira noted with a hint of embarrassment. No, Rumi’s eyes met her entire body, raking over her, taking in every piece of her.

Mira shrugged and rolled with it, at least externally. She used the time to do the same because. Wow.

Rumi had always looked good in press tours, movies and pretty much anything else she was in. But none of it held a candle to seeing her in person.

She was a bit shorter than Mira was now, perfect huggable hight really. Her hair had gotten so much longer, Mira was starting to wonder if she had cut it at all in the last ten years. Like it was one thing to see on screen. But in person? That looked intimidating and impressive, like nobody’s business.

Mira let her eyes wander just a bit more. Take in Rumi’s broad shoulders. The faint outline of muscle beneath her long sleeves. The way her fingers were twitching ever so subtly.

Okay.

Eyes back up.

Put on a small smirk.

Mira hoped that she wasn’t betraying just how nervous she truly was in this moment. She knew her rapidly beating heart certainly wasn’t doing her any favors, but thankfully, she had enough years under her belt appearing in the public eye to cover up any fidgeting and restlessness that could give her away.

Because wow was she nervous.

Rumi finally met her eyes- and wow she could drown in those eyes- before finally speaking.

“…Mira?”

Mira hoped beyond hope that the way her heart just skipped several beats didn’t show on her face. Who gave Rumi the skill to disarm her with just one word?!

One reverently, hopefully, slightly huskily whispered word!

Focus!

“Hey, Rumi.” Oh come on she could be smoother than this!! All her years of flirting, went out the window the moment she got to talk to Rumi it seems. A worthy exchange but it was leaving her floundering just a bit.

Rumi just kept staring at her. Eyes wide. Jaw still practically on the floor.

Mira didn’t know what else to say.

What does one even say in this situation?

Hi, I know we haven’t been allowed to talk for ten years but I miss you everyday and want to be back in your life?

No, that was far too desperate. Not too desperate for what Mira was feeling, but too desperate for it to be the first thing she says to Rumi.

“You two.. know each other?”

An awed, almost whispered voice rescued Mira from her dilemma. She focused some of her attention on the student that Rumi had been talking to, keeping her eyes firmly on Rumi.

“We were friends. Back home.” She didn’t need to elaborate, she wasn’t going to talk to this student again and she didn’t need to know their business.

“Yeah..” Rumi breathed out.

Wow this reconnecting thing was hard. Mira groaned internally. She really should have made a game plan before approaching.

“That’s so cool!” The student now had almost too much enthusiasm in her voice as she spoke.

“Of all the places you two could reconnect!!” So. Much. Enthusiasm. She almost sounded like a fan meeting a celebrity. But that wasn’t likely. Mira herself was more of a local celebrity, or at least not a global celebrity, while Rumi had faded from the spotlight a year ago, which was forever in celebrity time.

Plus, they were halfway across the globe, far away from their respective fandoms. Though Mira preferred to think of it as her community.

Either way.

It was very unlikely that the student knew either of them.

She was probably just always that bubbly.

—-

What the everlasting actual fuck was happening right now. She wasn’t hallucinating- she had fidgeted, rocked around, grounded- she was here. In real life. Just a meter away from the Mira and Rumi.

Mira. No last name needed or wanted. Mira, the daughter of a famous chaebol family, born into wealth, who rejected that life and disowned her parents the day she turned 18. It had made international newspapers.

Not long after, she had started modeling and safe to say, Zoey had been watching her career unfold from day one. It wasn’t a coincidence that she came out as pan six years ago, to put it mildly.

Mira had been one of the two major influences on helping Zoey reach that realization.

The other influence?

Rumi fucking Ryu.

Sure, Zoey had been a fan as a kid too. But then Rumi disappeared from the public eye for three years. Zoey had remained a loyal fan, constantly checking on any updates.

Rumi released music first, barely showing her face to the public. Her music was amazing, of course it was, and Zoey had quickly become a fan of Rumi not just as an actress, but as a singer as well. Maybe even more so as a singer, her voice was absolutely mesmerizing.

This had gone on for a few years. New music, always faceless. Always her voice. No appearances. There were conspiracy theories galore, to put it mildly.

And then the most major update in years came, and if Zoey allowed her own brain to be crass for a moment, so had she.

Because Rumi had released her first music video. And it had blown Zoey’s little 17 year old mind.

Rumi had specifically released it on the same date that Mira made her debut. It was safe to say, Zoey had had one hell of an experience on that fateful day.

That truly, had been her most eventful day, at least emotionally, or at least sef discovery, identity emotionally, ever. She had never expected it to get trumped.

Yet here she was.

Facing down Mira. Rumi Ryu. Casually. And trying extremely hard not to combust. Trying so fucking hard to be normal about this.

Because not only was she allowed to exist in their presence, not only had she had a full conversation with Rumi, Rumi Ryu, not only had she had a very narrow miss where she almost showed that exact Rumi that she was also gracing Zoey’s lock screen- not only all of that! Which by the way, was already comfortably a lot!

No.

Not only that.

Mira and Rumi. Fucking. Knew each other.

There had been rumors. So many rumors. Zoey had brushed them off, she hadn’t wanted to be weird and pry into celebrities lives. But she had heard them anyway.

And now they all came back to her in full force, like someone had hit her over the head with a shovel.

And through all this, she had to act fucking! Normal!!

She was going to kill Jinu.

Or hug him.

Maybe kill him with a hug.

She shook her head after saying something very forced to them. This was awkward and for once, it wasn’t just Zoey causing it.

But if those two were to reconnect- and clearly! They both wanted to- Zoey may as well help them. It’s the least she could do.

If it meant she got to see them more, that was just a cool bonus that was not at all affecting her actions whatsoever actually. Nope. Not at all.

…Maybe a bit.

“Anyway Rumi!” Oh boy she was struggling hard to keep the excitement out of her voice. Please don’t catch up on it.

Rumi snapped her attention away from Mira- something that Zoey knew took a lot of effort, because she too, was exerting that very same effort right now.

“As I was saying- you’ll need a water bottle- seriously don’t be like Jinu and think you’re above drinking water- we’re all sluts for water.” Oh could someone shut her up already and could it be Rumi? Or Mira? Or both? She was saying the weirdest stuff right now. Curse her fluency in innuendos, she really had to watch her tongue now, she was certain some had already slipped out. Why could she not be a resident in the gutters for one day.

At least Rumi gave a small soft laugh to her truly terrible words. Small, actually huge, solace. Zoey would be willing to be a court jester if it meant amusing Rumi even one more time.

Come back brain, have normal thoughts.

“And make it at least 16 ounces. More is ideal.” Okay so at least that sentence was normal. Look at her go.

“What is that in normal units?” Mira asked. Mira. Mira was speaking. To her. Zoey was shocked she stayed upright and could not stop, try as she may, to suppress the large smile spreading on her face.

“About a third of your stomach capacity. Maybe half. Depends on person.” Oh why was that her answer. Why did she become such a shit when she was nervous. Whyyyy.

Rumi laughed again. Okay never mind. Very worth it.

Mira just stood and blinked at her slowly.

“So. Like. Half a liter?” How had she deciphered that. Possibly how. In other news, Zoey was more in love with Mira now and she hadn’t thought that was possible either.

Zoey nodded at her and Mira looked very happy with herself. Good, she should be, she was a genius.

“But yeah at least that. More is always better. Better have it and not need it than collapse from dehydration.” She almost laughed out the last line. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But seeing Jinu insist an energy drink would work as hydration for the day and then collapse three hours later was just. It was funny!

“Did.. did Jinu do that?” Rumi was trying and failing to keep amusement out of her voice. She sure knew her friend well.

“Sounds like him alright.” The venom in Mira’s voice caught Zoey off guard. What in the world had happened away from the cameras? And also! By the way! How in the fuck did Jinu know both of these absolute goddesses who were so removed from his league it wasn’t even funny? And he never mentioned it to her?? He was such an ass!

Rumi grimaced at Mira’s tone but didn’t address it. Neither did Mira. It was getting quiet and tense and oh did Zoey not like it.

Time for action.

“So anyway! Mira was it?” Oh please let that have been smooth and not give away that she very much so knew exactly who Mira was.

“Oh- uh- yeah. Mira.” She startled at being addressed and Zoey was trying extremely hard not to commit every new facial expression to memory and to just be a normal person meeting another normal person.

“Do you wanna join us too?” Desperation for both Mira and also their dire need for members, fueled a frankly ridiculous question. As if Mira was here because she was interested in the sport. She was clearly just here to talk to Rumi.

“…too?” Mira asked, eyes flicking over to Rumi, eyebrows raised quizzically.

“Jinu kinda bullied me into trying his club out.” Mira’s eyes narrowed at Rumi’s explanation. Or more likely, at the mention of Jinu’s name. Man, what had he done? Zoey was of course on Mira’s side, whatever it was.

“But he also isn’t here for week one- so now she’s stuck with me as a private coach for the first session at the very least. A tragedy really.” Zoey was oh so proud of herself for not slipping in a single one of the many innuendos that had come to mind during that sentence. She was doing so well at socialization.

“…when would this first session be?” No fucking way. Someone bash Zoey’s head in to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Tuesday at 6pm- so in three days- we also have a second session Thursday, we train twice a week. Sometimes spontaneously more but only if the gym is available. Always at 6pm unless it’s spontaneous. But uhm. Yeah. Tuesday.” Shut up Zoey shut up! Her hands flailed around a bit as she explained, or more rambled, off their training times.

Mira took out her phone, looking down at it with squinted eyes. Scrunched up face. Slightly relaxed posture. This was a new look and Zoey was drinking it up.

Mira swiped a few things on her phone before looking up.

“I got time then. I’ll join.” It took literally every fibre of her being to not jump up in the air right now. Zoey didn’t often suppress her joy, at least not anymore, but right now, it was vital.

Rumi looked at Mira with wide, surprised and definitely adoring eyes. What! Had happened between them?

“Cool!” That came out more squeaky than she would have liked. Oh well.

“Have you-“ She had to clear her throat to not sound like a squeaky toy.

“Sorry- Have you heard of Handball before?” Look at her go, another normal question.

“I’ve heard of it, but never played. I’ve been more of a basketball girl.” As if Zoey didn’t know that. But she nodded along anyway because she could not betray that at all. Absolutely not.

“That’s fine- since I’m fairly certain it’ll be just us, I can make it a very entry level training. Start of simple like how not to get a concussion.” Okay back on a topic she could be normal about. Good. Wow she had not worried about appearing normal like this in a long while. She wasn’t a fan.

Zoey flapped her hands a few times to rid the icky feeling, like flinging mud off them. It kind of worked.

“Is that a concern..?” Rumi suddenly sounded hesitant. Mira looked almost more intrigued now. Zoey was still trying not to scream at having their attention on her.

“Unless you’re me? Probably not. I make up the quota for us, easy.” It was probably best she didn’t wear her custom made “concussion queen” shirt to their first practice huh.

“I swear, if I didn’t have those braincells knocked out of me, I’d be done with my masters by now.” She shrugged. It had absolutely been a hindrance in getting her music degree, having been concussed during a large part of the final exam period, but hey, she had passed. All good in Zoey land.

“Speaking of- Can I give you my number? And maybe get some info on you two?” Not her most smooth line ever, but she did really need to get Mira as a contact and she did actually want to know what they were doing here so. She could let it slide.

Mira handed her phone over and wow, Zoey was sure she could never afford it in a million lifetimes, as she quickly texted herself.

“I just need the basics for sign up. We aren’t like official official yet but we wanna get in the habit yknow?” She saved her ass as she remembered that actually! She did need their info! Like actually did.

Honestly, thank fuck for Jinu insisting on bookkeeping. A long con as he had put it. Zoey wasn’t exactly sure what the con was but she was always down for a good excel chart.

“Mira. She/Her. I’m taking some credits in fashion design while working.” Zoey really, really wanted to ask what she worked as. But Mira hadn’t said and she would not ask. Yet.

She quickly typed the info into her phone before catching herself.

“Last name?” Can’t reveal she knows anything.

“Don’t have one.” That definitely wasn’t true but Zoey could get back to that if and hopefully once they had to make their bookkeeping official. For now she settled on a simple nod and turned to Rumi before she melted under Mira’s piercing gaze. She could bend her over a table anytime she wanted.

“Oh uh- Rumi Ry-“ Rumi cut herself off with a small shake of the head.

“Sorry, force of habit. Rumi Kang. She/Her. I just started- or will start? My bachelors in environmental science.” Zoey barely caught Rumi’s major. She barely even saw Mira’s intrigued look at Rumi.

Because fuck.

That must be Rumi’s last name. Her actual, legal, last name. That was secret. That was also, extremely crucially, Celine Kang’s last name. Holy fucking shit fuck damn fuck.

“Awesome!” Zoey wouldn’t be shocked if only dogs could hear what she had just said.

“I’ve got you two on file now- I’ll make a group chat if that’s alright, so we can organize best- you’ll get all info later today plus a checklist of stuff you need.”

She fought her way through these sentences and wow did Zoey hope they were coherent because at this point, she couldn’t quite tell.

Mira smiled at her, an actual genuine smile and wow was that killer, holding up her phone.

“Awesome- see you Tuesday.”

—-

Rumi paced back and forth in her apartment, like a caged tiger.

Today had been. Pretty good. Better than expected. Great, even? Certainly eventful.

First of all.

She had met Zoey. Who was cute. Adorable really. Bright. Cool. And Jinu was so right about her. Her type to a T.

And she was going to have private lessons with her on Tuesday?! Rumi hoped she could keep her cool, even in the warm weather. It was vital, actually. She really wanted to be friends which meant she needed Zoey to like her which meant she absolutely could not be weird.

Next.

Mira.

She had met Mira.

Talked to Mira.

Touched, briefly, in a goodbye hug. A hug that frankly came way too soon after they had left Zoey’s booth, but really, what was she supposed to do? She could not have spent another second around Mira without exploding with things she definitely couldn’t say. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Besides! She would see her Tuesday again. It was fine. Totally fine.

Rumi’s hands found a plush teddy on her sofa, softly squeezing it. The fabric was soft. Calming. So soft it reminded her of Mira’s hair, back when it had been short.

She wondered how wonderful it would feel to run her hand through it now that she had grown it out.

Being normal on Tuesday was going to be harder than she had initially thought.

But she got this.

Years of acting can’t have been for nothing after all.

A ping on her phone interrupted her panicked and swirling thoughts.

Zoey had texted and her heart jumped at reading her contact name, despite her best attempts at calming it. Rude.

🐢Zoey🐢: Hey ya’ll, got the group chat going! I’ll send the rest of the info asap! Can’t wait to play with you!

Again. Was she doing this on purpose? It didn’t seem in character at all, at least not from what Rumi had seen. Maybe this was a her problem. She was just unhelpfully interpreting a perfectly normal message. That must be it.

She internally chided herself for reading too much into- and really for dwelling too much on- Zoey’s message, before sending a quick thanks and affirmation back. She quickly clicked her screen off and flung the phone onto the couch with a bounce.

Rumi flopped down next to her device, back hitting the cushions. It was dark now, without the phone light. Comfortable.

Still a bit loud from the fridge.

She squeezed the teddy tighter.

She couldn’t wait till Tuesday.

Her feet really, really wanted to kick around and it took a lot to keep them still. Poised. Presentable.

Her feet still shuffled a bit though. Nobody would see anyway.

Her phone dinged from next to her, light flooding the dark room uncomfortably.

An unknown number had texted.

Rumi was about to put her phone down before her eyes actually read the message. Any intention to put the device away halted in its tracks.

“I missed you.”

Rumi’s mouth ran dry.

Mira.