Work Text:
It’s not until Ryu Miyeong dies, does Celine regain memories of being Celeste Seong.
Normally, reincarnation wouldn’t be a hard pill to swallow, not when Celine has been brought into the world of Demons and Hunters. It’s different when you’re the center of it, memories merging and shaping her in the middle of her grief. It shocks her anyway, when she realizes she’s been reincarnated as a character in a movie–like Ryu Miyeong was destined to die.
Her emotions are so wildly mixed that it makes her want to slam her head against the wall.
There’s an excitement, wonder.
Celeste is far too different from Celine, carefree and wilder. The type of woman to read fanfiction all day in her room, to enjoy watching chaos from the sidelines while shoveling popcorn in her mouth. This is the trope that she’s read and fantasized so many times before. This is everything she's dreamed of, after such a boring life as a blue collar worker.
By the time they give her full custody of Rumi, her identity crisis finally lulls to a stop.
Rumi kicks and screams in her hold, swaddled in a soft blanket to the best of Celine’s abilities. The empty house fills with her cries, and Celene rocks her gently.
She has no idea how to take care of a baby, but she must be doing something right when Rumi quiets. She’s yet to form any demonic markings, and if Celine’s correct, they should when she’s older.
Looking at Ryu Miyeong’s baby in her arms, so young, Celine holds her close.
Celine is so utterly out of her depth here, even armed with memories of her past life. It’s far too much of a burden for a child to bear, the state of the world hinging on her. There is one thing she knows–she will not let Rumi be ashamed, like she has to hide.
To the best of her abilities, Celine will try to raise her without being a total fuck up.
—
“Cece, Cece! Guess what! ” Rumi yells excitedly.
She looks in the mirror, on her tippy toes on the stool to peer well above the sink. Cece said that they might come when she’s five, but nothing happened last year. But she’s six now and it did!
“What? I’m making breakfast!” She hears Celine yell from the kitchen, in the middle of whisking eggs so they can eat omurice. On any other day, Rumi would be running to watch her cook, and admire the way she cracks eggs so perfectly. She can’t even crack an egg without breaking the yolk.
But today is a really special occasion.
“They came, my marks came!”
Suddenly, something clatters to the ground. It sounds like a fork, and Rumi almost giggles as Celine rushes into the bathroom like she’s just finished training. She lets out a squeal when Celine scoops her up, gentle but strong arms settling her onto the floor.
“Let me guess,” Celine taps her on the nose playfully, and Rumi scrunches it up, “are they there?”
“No!” exclaims Rumi, and she knows Celine knows that. You can’t even see a hint of purple anywhere on her nose, unless she counts the one time she leaned forward too much near one of Celine’s unfinished paintings and got paint on the tip of her nose.
She holds out her arm proudly, showing off her new pattern.
Purple markings swirl around the top of her forearm, and Rumi could spend all day drawing those patterns. Demonic markings are so cool! Maybe she should be scared, but Celine always explains that even though a lot of Demons are bad, there can be good ones too-some even used to be human! Maybe her Dad was like that.
She lets Celine gently grab her arm, tracing the purple mark with her fingers.
“It's beautiful.” Celine murmurs, before tucking a strand of Rumi's hair behind her ear. “Just like the rest of you.”
Rumi pushes herself into Celine's arms, and beams.
—
Rumi will never say it aloud, but sometimes…
Sometimes, Rumi wishes Celine was her mother. It’s just too hard, especially when Celine showers her with so much love and care, just like the mothers she sees when they go out in disguise.
She apologizes to her eomma in her head, but the thought still lingers even as the guilt makes her stomach twist.
Yet when Celine braids her hair with gentle fingers, lovingly singing in tune with her, she can't help but dream.
—
In the brink of the night a few years later, something else comes rather than more patterns.
Rumi screams, before immediately snapping her mouth shut.
Celine's asleep right, there's no way she could've heard that. She'd only been screaming for a second, and she can still fix this. She just wanted a late night snack, and finished eating some leftover dakgangjeong she'd scoured from the fridge.
Her hands and teeth have been feeling weird all day, making it extra hard to hold a pencil when her private tutors teach her, or when she practices using her new sword with Celine. It doesn't help that she's been having the odd urge to scratch stuff, or…bite things.
She was grabbing a pillow from the sofa to make her headrest extra fluffy. The moment her fingers delved in, fluff came exploding out of the fabric.
“This is fine, everything is fine.” Rumi repeats to herself, her hands hovering over the pillow on the floor that looks like it'd been attacked by a rabid dog.
There's fluff everywhere, the floor covered in pillow blood.
She can see the easy gouges slicing the fabric, made by her very own hands. Which are very sharp. Her fingernails have always been on the sharper side, but it's nothing compared to the very stabby looking ends now.
All Rumi has to do is clean it up, without making more of a mess.
Somehow.
Of course, things aren't that easy, because Rumi can hear the sound of quick footsteps coming from the top where Celine's room and down the stairs and she's totally screwed.
Her Imo is still in her pajamas, dark hair a wild mess around her shoulders when she runs in the living room. In her hands, she holds her ssang-geom.
Celine swings her swords wildly. “Rumi! What's wrong? Is there a demon–”
She freezes, a pause as Celine surveys the state the room is in. The fluff scattered around the floor, pillow fabric in tatters. Oh, Rumi is so in trouble.
“I didn't mean to!” She panics, holding her hands up. “I was just trying to grab it, but then my fingers were being weird, and..."
Celine quietly sets down her ssang-geom on the table before she walks forward, taking a look at Rumi's fingers.
Suddenly Celine laughs.
“It looks like your claws finally came in.” She says. “We'll have to work on retracting them so you don't kill any more pillows.”
Before Rumi knows it, she feels a bit stupid for being so worried. Celine always knows what to do.
Celine leans down. “Your fangs came in too.”
Rumi tilts her head, moving her tongue in her mouth to press against her canines. They feel sharper, as she rubs it lightly against the tips of them. It makes a lot more sense about how the chicken basically shredded when she chewed it.
“So…I'm not in trouble?” asks Rumi.
“Of course not. You're still helping me clean this up, though.”
—
Rumi feels like vomiting.
But not because she's disgusted or anything, she's actually really excited. And nervous. Really nervous. It'd been a month since Celine informed her of Mira and Zoey.
She's been trying to prepare, had rehearsed in front of the mirror of what she would say when she first met them.
Rumi's not normally so…terrified. She's had friends before, weekly meetings with other kids that share the same private tutors.
Yet something about this is different. These are the people that she'll entrust her life with, as they will with her.
She's searched them up online when Celine first informed her of the Honmoon choosing her two fellow hunters. Is that creepy? Rumi feels a little nervous, especially considering her own online presence. Yeah, she's basically popstar royalty, but there's almost nothing out there about her.
Celine always insists on keeping Rumi's life private, at least until she turns eighteen which is only a year away. Rumi was allowed to make a social media account when she was fifteen, but even then Celine only lets her post about her singing rather than show her face.
Mira already has a large following, the daughter of the CEO of a large corporation. Most of her videos show her dancing, and Rumi can't help but be awed by how smoothly her body moves to the music. Zoey's fanbase is a mix of American and Korean fans, probably from being raised in the States. When Rumi clicks on one of her videos, she's shocked at how fast lyrics come out of her mouth.
It’s okay.
She has a whole month to get ready for them to arrive.
Rumi will be completely fine, right?
—
Mira's the one who comes first, and Rumi is not fine.
Celine left them alone on the premise of buying groceries for some quote unquote, bonding time over lunch, and Rumi can't help but stare at Mira who digs into a plate of gimbap. Her bags have been unpacked in her room already, which leaves just the two of them.
Her pink hair is nearly as long as Rumi's, and everything she wears is black and either spiked or has chains.
In summary, she was cool.
She was so much cooler than Rumi, which makes Rumi conscious of her every move. She has to make a good impression.
Rumi opens her mouth to eat a piece of ganjangmaneul, when Mira looks up.
Oh shit, shit, eye contact.
Her fangs that bite down instinctively push a little harder then she wants them to, and suddenly the bone breaks in half.
She sheepishly grabs the pieces from her mouth, setting them onto the plate. “Oops?” When she glances at Mira, the other girl's eyes are narrowing at her teeth.
“So.” Mira stares at her, and Rumi has to stop herself from fidgeting. “You're a demon.”
“Half, actually. Did Celine explain the whole thing? Comes from my Dad.” She rambles. “Nice, right?”
Nice, right?
What was she, a teenage boy? Dammit, Mira's never gonna like her after this–
Mira smirks. “Nice.”
Rumi blinks. “...Really?”
Mira points to the broken piece of chicken that lays upon Rumi's plate. “I'd kill to be able to do that with my teeth.”
She can't help but giggle, and her laughter must be infectious because Mira is smiling too.
—
If there was an animal to describe Zoey, she would probably be a golden retriever. If golden retrievers had short black hair and the most colorful wardrobe imaginable.
Celine introduces her at the front door, excusing herself to buy some groceries. Again. Rumi loves her, but can she at least make a new excuse when the fridge is already stocked to the brim? Zoey and Mira become friends like clockwork, already deep in conversation when Rumi walks into the main room.
When Mira goes to the bathroom, it leaves Rumi and Zoey. Zoey's sitting infront of the couch, knees huddled and a notebook in her hands. She can hear a quick scratching against the paper, guessing that Zoey's writing some lyrics.
Rumi sits down awkwardly next to Zoey,
It should be easy to make her like Rumi. After all, she made friends with Mira. It can't be that hard. Rumi's got this, because it would be so bad if she messes something up and creates a wedge could inevitably ruin her progress with Mira–
“Wow.” gasps Zoey, her eyes focused on Rumi's fingers rather then her notebook and Rumi startles. She flexes her fingers instinctively, aware of how her claws are out. She's learned to retract them, but it feels more natural to have them.
Was that a bad or good wow? She clears her throat. “Yeah?”
“Your nails! They're so sharp. Like mini knives, but like, in a really pretty way. ” Zoey's words come out quick as she practically vibrates, and Rumi has to focus to be able to process all of them. “If you paint them, does the nail polish stay even if they retract? I gotta know!”
Maybe a rabbit would also be a nice comparison, based on how eager and bouncy she is. Rumi likes it. “It does.”
“Can I paint them? Please? I can go get my nail polish!”
Rumi nods, grinning. “Go ahead.”
By the time Celine comes back, she's greeted with the sight of Rumi, Mira and Zoey pressed together and laughing as they paint Rumi's claws a variety of different colors.
—
The moment Rumi turns nineteen, she flings herself out of bed with so much eagerness that she thinks she's about to burst.
She's finally at the age that Celine will allow her to fully start Huntrix, to help strengthen the Honmoon like the hunters that came before her. She's got years worth of training under her belt, and she'll finally be able to show it–both in fighting demons and singing.
Celine is waiting for her at the end of the stairs when Rumi rushes downstairs, fangs sharpening when she smells the food in the oven. Looks like Celine's making her favorites, and she can hear Mira and Zoey.
“You're nineteen today.” Celine looks like she's about to cry. “I still remember holding you in my arms when you were a baby. You vomited everywhere–
“Cece!” Rumi flushes, embarrassed.
“Okay, Okay.” Celine shakes her head with a grin. Then, her expression becomes more serious. Just as she's done ever since Rumi was young, she tucks a strand of hair behind Rumi's ear. “I'm proud of you.”
Rumi's throat closes up, and she can't help but lean into her Imo's touch. “I know.”
They stand there for a moment, until Celine finally pulls back. “Come on, Mira and Zoey are waiting for you. I believe they've bought you some presents.”
Mira and Zoey practically light up when she tumbles into their view, throwing herself into their arms.
"So," Rumi asks, "ready to save the world?"
"Of course!" squeals Zoey, bouncing up and down.
Mira nods. "Totally."
Rumi patterns glow, her emotions bright. Whatever Gwi-ma throws at her, Rumi will be prepared.
—
Celine hates interviews. Damn interviewers and their gleaming eyes that resemble vultures. As Celeste, she used to be thoroughly entertained by them.
Yet, this one is momentous.
Rumi is nineteen, a fact that makes her feel old now.
It's the introduction of Huntrix, the beginning of the story. She sits next to the right of Rumi, the other girls to Rumi's right. They've closely bonded in just a year, and Celine can't help but be so terribly proud of her jokattal. Mira and Zoey as well, for accepting Rumi so easily as if instinct.
“So Rumi, the whole world has been dying to know ever since you've shared a photo of yourself online.” The interviewer leans forward, as if listening in on a secret. “Your one of a kind birthmarks, how do they make you feel? They're certainly unique.”
Unlike the canon storyline, Rumi's shows her patterns freely. They're especially visible today, streaking across her arms, evident of the demon parts in her. Celine has seen the purple grow over the years, a beautiful light color that ends at the left of her forehead.
She watches Rumi swallow, before speaking.
“They're…apart of me. I've never been ashamed, or embarrassed because of them.” Rumi smiles. Celine feels skin brush against hers when Rumi's hand slides over hers. “I thank my Imo for part of that. Ever since I was a child, she's always encouraged me to be proud of what makes me, me.”
Celine squeezes Rumi's hand, and Rumi squeezes hers back. Celine has the strong urge to cry, her eyes becoming blurry but she resists in front of the camera. As the interview ends, and the flashing cameras blink away, Celine knows that the future will be irreciprocally different.
Fate is all messed up, has been tangled ever since she remembered being Celeste. Yet, she can't ever regret it. As she looks at Rumi smiling and unashamed of what she is, she thinks–no, knows that everything will turn out fine.