Chapter Text
Rumi leaned her head against the tinted window. The city slowly rolled past her, building after building, going from familiar sights of tall skyscrapers and old theaters to parts of the city she had never seen before. Her left knee bounced wildly.
"Hey," Jinu said, snapping Rumi out of her worried haze, "it's going to be fine."
Rumi glared at him, "you don't know that. What if I make a mistake? What if I mess it up?"
Jinu raised an eyebrow, "they're just college students. They won't care."
"You don't know that!" Rumi's voice caught as her breathing grew fast and shallow.
"I do know though. They are college students."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Hey, Rumi, look at me." Jinu steadied her with a hand. "Deep breath with me. There we go, in and out." He breathed with her and the world slowed down again. "If something goes wrong we can figure it out then, you can always text me."
Rumi sighed, tension falling out of her shoulders, "thanks Jinu, I just don't want to get in your way. Your group is kind of blowing up right now."
A cocky smile slipped over Jinu's face, "I know right? But seriously Rumi, this is what friends are for. I just," want to see your smile again, "I think it's going to work out OK?"
Rumi nodded. The car came to a smooth stop.
"And look at that, here we are."
"Wait Jinu, I'm not ready. Let's just do another lap of the block."
Jinu laughed, "nope."
The door loomed over Rumi. It was painted bright purple with sloppy strokes, there were some spots where the paint was clearly thicker and a few long lines where a paint drop had rolled its way down the door. Apartment number 222, this was it. All she had to do was knock. The numbers were slightly askew. Especially the last 2, it was tilted to the right.
Rumi raised a hand to knock. But what if it went wrong? She took a shaky breath and tensed all of her muscles.
"Is that my roomie!?" A happy voice shouted from down the hall.
Rumi turned; skipping down the hall came the most cheerful girl Rumi had ever seen. She had short black hair pulled into two cute buns, her whole body seemed to vibrate with excited energy. She wore a short dark haltered crop top with baggy blue pants that looked like they would fall right off if it weren't for the thick embroidered belt.
"Yo! what's up? I'm Zoey! I live here to, nice to meet you roomie." Zoey talked fast.
Rumi blinked, "uh, how do you know my name?" She knows, she knows about everything. She is going to hate me, I should run right now.
"What? Wait, is your name Rumi?"
Rumi nodded.
Zoey giggled, "Rumi the roomie. It's perfect. Nice to meet you Rumi the roomie, I'm Zoey, the... um, I don't know. Z is so hard. Oh I know, Zoey the Zest! Cause I bring that spicy finishing touch. Oh, but look at me rambling when you just got here. Do you have more boxes? I can help carry them, I know I look small but I'm actually hella strong."
"I just have this."
"Oh, right, cool cool cool. I actually don't have a lot either, sort of leaving it all behind. You know what that means?" Zoey looked expectantly up at Rumi.
Rumi was still catching up on understanding what Zoey was saying. She had a dazed look.
"Group shopping trip! Oh you probably can't get the door open with that box in your hands. Here I got it."
Zoey slipped around her, brushing up against Rumi for a second. Unconsciously Rumi quickly pulled back. Seeming not to notice Zoey through the door open and bowed dramatically.
"Welcome home!"
Rumi's breath caught in her throat. "I'm home," she whispered.
Sunlight was streaming through the windows across a wood floored living room that was, at the moment, mostly bare. There was a couch facing one of the windows and a small shelf with a few books on it and a couple of succulents on top and that was it. But all Rumi could see was the warmth and the light. Home. Was that allowed?
A tall girl with pink hair stepped out of what must be her room and broke Rumi out of her spiral. Rumi noticed that as the tall girl approached Zoey's bubbly constant chatter cut off. Was Zoey blushing? No it must be her imagination, although both girls were quite cute.
"Sup. I'm Mira."
Zoey giggled, "Sup Mira."
"We already met Zoey. We've lived together for two weeks."
Zoey was definitely blushing now, "ha, yeah. Um anyway, this is our new roomie Rumi!"
"Yeah, I could hear you from my room Zoey."
Rumi said, "Hi." and gave an awkward sad half wave.
"Mira guess what?"
"You two are going shopping," Mira said, deadpan.
"You aren't coming with?" Zoey blinked pleadingly.
"Zoey I don't need anything."
Zoey just held her sad plaintive stare.
Rumi fidgeted with her hands underneath her box, picking at her skin.
Mira sighed, "alright, I'll come."
Shopping with Zoey was like living in a storm. It turned out Zoey's energy did not dip. What Rumi had thought was an initial burst of excitement at meeting someone new was in fact just the baseline. Zoey carried the conversation for all three of them for the entire trip and didn't break a sweat. She ran them from store to store, literally, she ran and Mira and Rumi had to chase after her. Then once they were in a store Zoey would zoom off one moment and come flying back with something the next. It reminded Rumi of the dogs she would see while running who dragged their owners along after them.
Rumi had never decorated her own room before (she did not tell Zoey or Mira this), so it was an overwhelming experience. But Zoey made it easier and Mira, well Mira was impossible to read. She had a deadpan stare but she never seemed angry. Every once in a while Rumi would catch Mira watching Zoey with the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips.
Five hours passed in the blink of a eye.
Boxes and bags were scattered all over the living room their contents spilling out and making it look like a bomb went off in the apartment. All three girls were in the bathroom. Rumi sat on a small stool blushing as Mira's hands worked through Rumi's hair and Zoey bounced around the room.
The purple hair dye had caught her eye while they were shopping. She had never been allowed to make any changes to herself that could harm her image when she lived with Celine. Her long hair was well groomed but it never really felt like hers. Celine decided when it was cut and how. And when Celine brushed it or ran her fingers through Rumi's hair, it always felt like she was looking through her as if someone else was meant to be the one wearing the hair.
Then Rumi had gotten up and left. She was here to buy furniture, paintings, plates, stuff for the apartment. It wasn't until they were checking out that she saw Mira at the self checkout with the hair dye. When questioned about it Mira said she already had everything else they would need to dye Rumi's hair and left it at that.
And now here they were. Mira worked methodically, dyeing Rumi's hair one section at a time, circling around her counterclockwise. Zoey said she was there to help, which she definitely wasn't doing. But Rumi didn't mind and it didn't seem like Mira did either. For all her hard looks and gruff exterior it seemed Mira was a bit of a softie, especially when it came to Zoey.
Mira ran her gloved fingers through Rumi's hair searching for any missed spots, "You have really nice hair Rumi."
Zoey nodded, "yeah, it's gorgeous. You're so pretty Rumi."
Despite herself Rumi blushed. Why am I blushing? It wasn't as if she had never been complimented before. She did some modeling work before the, well, before the incidents. And after ballet performances dozens of people had complimented her. But it never felt like this.
"Alright," Mira said pulling back and discarding her gloves, "this has to sit for a while before you wash it out, and I'm starving."
With how much hair Rumi had Mira estimated it would take at least an hour to sit long enough that Rumi could take a shower. Zoey perked up at that, mentioning very pointedly that she had a turtle compilation that was exactly 63 minutes long. Mira insisted on a movie or show. The way she talked made it sound like she had been watching turtles until the designs of their shells were branded into her retinas. Zoey's laptop was plastered in stickers, cartoon turtles, realistic turtles, little chibi turtles. So maybe it really had been that bad. Zoey rattled off movies and shows they could watch at a pace Rumi couldn't keep up with.
Mira rolled her eyes, "just pick for us Zoey."
Zoey giggled, "OK."
Mira looked over at Rumi, "I already know what this one wants. Rumi, how do you want your ramyeon? We've got Shin black and red or Indomie."
"Um, I don't know. I've never actually eaten any."
The energy in the room shifted. Zoey looked at Rumi like she was a starving lost kitten in a rain-sodden deteriorating cardboard box. Mira looked at her like she just killed the kitten.
"What?"
"How is that even possible?"
Rumi looked down. That was a mistake. I should have lied. Instinctively her shoulders tensed.
Mira said, "well we've got to remedy this. Want to make it with me or you want me to surprise you?"
Zoey clapped her hands, "a surprise, no wait, make it like mine!"
"Huh?" Rumi blinked. What?
Mira said, "ignore Zoey."
Rumi looked up. Zoey had gone back to open another tab with another potential movie. Mira was chopping up garlic in the kitchen. Neither of them yelled. No one was mad.
Tentatively Rumi made her way into the kitchen. "If it is alright with you. I would like to learn."
Mira gave her an weird look, "of course. Alright so..."
Rumi settled onto a tall stool as Mira showed her how to cook ramyeon. It was a thurough explanation and Mira was a good teacher but Rumi kept catching herself slipping into a daze as she watched the tall lithe woman cook. There was something mesmerizing about Mira's hands. They worked without her watching. Ever cut every stir was done with such calm precision.
Before Rumi knew it she was sitting between Zoey and Mira on Mira's bed (it was the biggest) holding a steaming bowl. Mira's room was tidy and minimalistic compared to Zoey's. When they were shoping Mira insisted she had everything she needed but it looked like Zoey had twice as much as her. Everything in here was old and well worn. Then Zoey leaned in close and all Rumi could think about was the warmth of the smaller girls shoulder and the sweat floral scent that clung to her hair.
"Here, try it," Zoey was holding out a bite of noodles covered in gooey processed cheese.
Rumi flushed a bit as she leaned over to taste. It was strange but not in a bad way. The movie seemed to be more of a background for Zoey and Mira, Zoey's dialogue stopped for no man. And as the night wore on Rumi settled into the strange pleasant feeling of mundane domestic life. Some part of her was still on edge, still waiting for an angry shout, or worse a disappointed click of the tongue. But the later it got the more that part of her faded into the background.
Mira and Zoey kept sneaking glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. It wasn't nearly as subtle as they both seemed to think it was. Rumi reasoned that the girls were probably also waiting for someone to snap and shout so she didn't mention is.
"Alright," Mira said, "looks like your hair is ready to be washed out Rumi."
Rumi got a change of clothes and borrowed what Mira called her ugliest towel then locked herself in the bathroom. She checked the lock twice. Once she was sure no one could get in Rumi turned away from the mirror and peeled off her clothes one piece at a time.
Slipping into the scalding water Rumi enjoyed the feeling of it beating down on her. She let it hammer into her shoulders and took several deep breaths. The water running into the drain was purple and it splattered onto her legs. Leaning against the wall she scrubbed off the color. Then she let her mind drift away as she ran soapy hands over her scarred chest and back. Rumi had always hated showers. All the joy of melting into the heat was washed away by the feeling of her hands on her skin. She washed quickly, mind in some practiced foggy state, then cut the water and braced herself on the wall.
Rumi's breathing grew ragged. She sank to sit on her haunches and leaned her head into the wall. Breath, just breath. Her whole body trembled as she began to cry silently.
When she had finished Rumi stood and grabbed a towel. The mirror was fogged up. She started the fan running and quickly toweled off before she could accidentally catch a glimpse of herself.
A knock on the door.
Zoey called out, "are you done? can we come and blow dry it out now? I want to see!"
"Just let me get some clothes on."
"Oh you don't have to." Followed by a yelp and Mira's deeper voice
"Get dressed, take all the time you need."
Rumi slipped on baggy sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt. Both got damp from the water dripping from her soaked hair. She wanted to towel it off and be done with it but Mira had insisted that would make the dye come out faster so Rumi left it.
When Rumi opened the door Zoey was bouncing from one foot to the other. Mira was cleaning up the kitchen. They both came and sat her down in the bathroom, getting to work with their hair dryers. It had been a long time since anyone but Rumi dried her hair. It felt nice, but having to people behind her made Rumi's shoulders tense up.
"Alright," Mira said in her husky voice, "have a look."
Rumi turned and gasped. The Rumi starring back at her had entirely bright purple hair. It made her look like a different person. She felt different.
"Oh my god."
Zoey said, "right?"
Mira put a hand on Rumi's shoulder, "it will take a while to get used to, but hey. Welcome to the new you."
There was a knowing look in Mira's eyes. She didn't say anything more, didn't push. But Rumi felt an understanding there that comforted her, it said: 'whatever it was that's dragging you down. I've felt it too, you're not alone.'