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“If you’re with us, prove it.”
Mira was infuriated with Rumi’s secrecy, and the jab about her own insecurities stung. Mira trusted her enough to show what kept her up at night, so why couldn’t Rumi do the same? Why didn’t she trust them to help? For once, Mira was thankful for the demons since it gave her something to vent her frustrations out on. If they hadn’t, she might have said something she would have regretted.
The trio worked as a well-oiled machine to slay the demons surging at them. Their voices heightened the power of their weapons, the link to the Honmoon singing with them. Rumi dashed past them to take on the horde head-on. It wasn’t unusual for her, but…
“A demon with no feelings don’t deserve to live.”
It wasn’t a battle anthem, but a dirge. The wrongness of it had Mira and Zoey turning their heads towards their third, despite the enemies they fought to keep at bay. Their gazes locked onto Rumi just in time to see the massive demon bearing down on her reel back with his club. Rumi didn’t raise her sword fast enough. The club slammed into her shoulder with a crunch, and she was airborne.
Everything slowed down. Zoey and Mira barely glanced at each other before they were in motion. Rumi hit the train’s roof, body tumbling as she skidded off the edge. Mira threw herself after her. She managed to reach in time with an iron grip on Rumi’s wrist, and the other hand plunged her gok-do into the side of the cart, sharply stopping their descent onto the tracks. Rumi cried out, shrill as a wounded animal, and Mira felt a distinct pop reverberate through Rumi’s arm. She couldn’t hesitate, despite the muted horror. Zoey was holding off the horde above, so Mira couldn’t pause to catch her breath. She swung, and the combination of momentum and hard-earned muscle got them back on top of the train. Mira fluidly tore her spear from where it was lodged and slammed it down, energy arching off of it and obliterating the rest of the demons.
There was a pause filled with panting breaths and the wind whipping past their weary forms. Mira and Zoey locked eyes with each other, looking for new scrapes, and then a low whine snatched their attention. “Rumi!”
Their leader was curled up, her right arm held tight to her chest, and her left hand covering her shoulder. Her frame trembled, and her breathing was harsh. Mira and Zoey went to her aid, but that damn martyr shook her head.
“The passengers- check on the passengers!” The command was hissed through gritted teeth. The remaining girls shared a look, neither wanting to leave their friend in such obvious pain, but Mira broke off to check while Zoey stayed with Rumi. She was better at comfort than the other girl.
Mira felt sick having to return to the group with the news of their failure. So many people gone. She had to help Zoey get Rumi off the roof of the train. She was down an arm, and the pain made her uncoordinated. Zoey wanted to drag her to the closest ER, but Rumi was stubborn. There would be no hiding who they were, and the injury would be suspicious. The trio had first aid experience, and the pop she felt gave Mira an idea of what was wrong, but she’d have to get a closer look to be sure.
They made their way back to their tower in solemn silence. It was only broken once they had safely made it home, and the door closed between them and the outside world. “C’mon, let's get you checked out, Rumi.”
Mira kept her tone soft, as if her usual sharpness could inflict wounds on its own. However, Rumi rejected her olive branch with a shake of her head. “No! No, it's ok. I can take care of it myself. You should patch yourselves up first.”
Rumi had given them a strained smile. As if it were no big deal. As if they hadn’t come within inches of losing her. Mira was exhausted, frustrated, and the moment of terror at seeing Rumi slip off the edge of the train was still burned in her mind. She was done skirting around the issue- she didn’t have the energy to anymore.
“No, Rumi!” She snapped, “You can’t take care of it yourself! Your shoulder is probably dislocated, and something could be broken. You cannot handle that on your own, and it's insulting that you think we would let you!” Her voice was a harsh blend of a snarl and a command. Rumi flinched, and normally, it would have made Mira back off, but instead, she took a step forward. She ignored Zoey’s worried expression and pressed into Rumi’s space, staring down at the other girl.
“Why do you act like we are going to abandon you at the slightest inconvenience? Do you think that little of us? We are a team, Rumi.” The other girl sputtered, tried to deflect, but Mira wouldn’t let her.
“If you think you can take care of your shoulder by yourself, then raise your arm. I don’t think you could even get your hoodie off. Do that and I’ll leave you to it.”
Rumi took the dare, and she tried. She couldn’t even raise halfway before having to drop it back down. Her breathing was strained, and she shook. It hurt to see her like this, but they were trying to help her, damn it!
“That’s what I thought.”
Mira gripped Rumi’s uninjured arm and guided her to the couch. Zoey took the moment to hastily retrieve their large first aid kit. The moment she sat, Rumi seemed to curl further into herself. Her breathing got more agitated as she gripped her own arms.
“We’re just trying to help, Rumi. Please let us,” Zoey pleaded. “Here, at least take something for the pain.” She popped out a few pills from the med kit and held them out. Rumi paused before taking them and swallowed them dry.
“I’m going to have to cut off your hoodie to get to your shoulder. I hope you aren’t super attached to it.” The half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood had the opposite effect Mira was going for. Rumi flinched like she had just suggested putting a toothpick under her toenail and kicking a wall. Her breath rattled in her chest, and she shook her head, panic evident on her face. “No! No, you can’t. Please, Mira, just let me fix it on my own. I can do it.”
The frenzied begging only made Mira and Zoey’s hearts freeze and minds race. It wasn’t as simple as not wanting help; it was something more than just not wanting to show vulnerability. Zoey reached out and placed a hand on Rumi’s uninjured shoulder. She flinched, but didn’t pull away, so Zoey rubbed soothing circles. “Hey- it’s ok, Rumi. Whatever you’re afraid of, it’s ok. We love you and nothing is going to change that.”
Mira knelt in front of the trembling girl and saw that her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. She had wondered for years why Rumi seemed obsessed with covering her arms. She didn’t like to think about Rumi hurting herself, but it was the only conclusion she could draw. She had tried to bring it up before, but had always gotten brushed off. You couldn’t force someone to trust you with a part of themselves that they were ashamed of.
“Rumi, it’s ok. You’ve been working so hard to stay covered up, but please let us help. We promise that we aren’t going to think any less of you for whatever you have on your skin.”
The gentle coaxing made tears spill over and a sob bubble in Rumi’s throat. She weakly shook her head again, and her voice was a strained whisper that they only heard due to their closeness. “You’ll hate me.”
The conviction behind the words broke Zoey and Mira’s hearts. How badly had they failed as partners that the thought was even a possibility? Zoey leaned further into her space, tears unabashedly trailing down her face. Zoey’s knee knocked against Rumi’s own as she cupped her face. “No! No, Rumi. We could never hate you. Never in a million zillion years! I’d sooner hate turtles than I’d ever hate you. We’re in this together, no matter what!”
Mira cupped the other half of Rumi’s face, wiping away tears as she urged the other girl to look at her, to see their conviction in their reassurances. “We couldn’t hate you even if we tried. No matter what, you will always be Rumi to us. The same Rumi who uses the shower as a sound booth. The same Rumi who always goes out of her way to make other people’s lives a little better. The same Rumi who can fight demons all day, but gets squeamish about some B-rated horror movie. Sometimes you can frustrate us with these walls you put up, and how much of a workaholic you are, but that doesn’t mean we adore you any less. We love every part of you, Rumi. The good and bad.”
Mira wasn’t one for big heart-to-hearts, but she couldn’t let Rumi have a shadow of a doubt about how important she was to them. It made even more tears come, but then she became resigned.
“Ok.” It was a barely there whisper. It felt like a starving dog that had an aching fire in its belly, but no more energy left to search. It wasn’t satisfying, but at least it gave them a chance to help.
Mira got the clothing shears from the first aid kit, and Zoey interlaced her fingers with Rumi to give her something solid to hold. Mira slid the blade in by the neck and cautiously started to cut down the arm. Each inch gained felt like a countdown. When she pulled the fabric back, there was a sharp intake of breath, but no one could tell who did it first. Rumi’s face was scrunched as if she were bracing for impact.
Mira expected the awkward jutting of her shoulder and the dark bruise blooming on it. She had expected marks, but not the kind that sat before her. There weren’t pale scars, but thick, arching bands of a sickly purple- the marks of a demon. A pin dropped could have been heard in the silence that followed, only broken by Rumi’s ragged breathing.
Mira couldn’t compute what was in front of her, and with how Zoey stared, neither could she. Mira thought she could read people well, but apparently not, considering that the thought of one of the people closest to her being a demon never crossed her mind. There was a bubbling of anguish in her gut that called to her to lash out; how dare they be tricked like this! However, as soon as the urge struck, it was smothered by looking at Rumi.
She cowered before them, and she looked so vastly different from the confident woman with whom they shared a stage. It could almost seem like this was a completely different person- that their Rumi had been spirited away and replaced. But no. This wasn’t a demon playing a long game of deception; this was Rumi. Their partner before them, who spoke with such an agonized conviction, knowing they would turn on her. No weapon was drawn. Her head was bowed and her eyes closed, awaiting whatever punishment they sought.
A demon with no feelings don’t deserve to live.
So many things suddenly clicked into place, and Mira couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Oh, Rumi,” was breathed in unison.
They didn’t know the whole story, but they knew enough. Mira and Zoey moved as they had on the train —synchronized without having to guide each other. Zoey latched onto Rumi’s side, still being careful not to jostle her shoulder, but there was desperation in her grip. Mira pulled Rumi toward her, resting her head atop her braid and petting the lilac hair.
Zoey and Mira didn’t know what to say - they were still grasping the truth - but they knew they wouldn’t let Rumi take their inaction for rejection. She gasped and sobbed between them, blubbering in a way that made Mira sure that her shirt was going to be disgusting after, but she didn’t care.
“I don’t- I don’t understand. How- how can you stand to touch me? To even look at me?”
The raw and tumultuous anguish in her cries hurt more than any wound a demon had dealt before. Zoey was the first to respond. “Because you’re Rumi.” As if that answered everything. Maybe it did.
The dam had broken, and Rumi had years of bottled-up emotions rushing over her. She wouldn’t string more than a few words together, and her thoughts were scattered, but Zoey and Mira were able to understand enough. She kept apologizing. She wanted to tell them, but she couldn’t. She thought she could be fixed. She clung to them as if they were going to disappear at any moment.
Eventually, all their tears were exhausted. Rumi was completely wrung out and seemed not fully there by the time the trio had calmed enough to function. The only reason they hadn’t just passed out in a pile on the couch was because Rumi made a noise of pain while still wrapped up in their embrace, reminding them of the catalyst to all of this.
The medication she had taken before was in full swing, so it was as good a time as any. Zoey had Rumi lean against her as Mira carefully popped her shoulder back into place. Rumi took it with no more than a grunt before melting further into Zoey’s side. None of them had the physical or mental energy to do anything else, so they settled for kicking off their shoes and entangling themselves with one another on the couch. Whatever happens next, they could talk about it in the morning.
A whisper in the stillness of the night, rasped with emotion too much for the voice to bear. “I love you two so much.”
Without hesitation, there was a unanimous response to the call. “We love you too, Rumi.”