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Rumi is no stranger to exhaustion. The dual life of a K-Pop idol demon hunter is a busy one, of course, and all the girls feel it– long work hours, grueling physical work, and a constant heavy weight on their minds. But for Rumi it never stops. She genuinely can’t remember the last time she truly relaxed– the girls try, of course, but Rumi insists there is always so much to be done. Which isn’t wrong, and Rumi does believe it’s her job as their lead to handle most of the non-creative work, but it’s also likely true that she probably should delegate more to Bobby (and let him actually do his job).
The real truth though, is Rumi has no idea how to not stay busy. She's never learned how to sit with herself and not sink under the weight of her own mind. She knows it’s unlikely that she was born like this, surely she wasn’t five years old and crying in her room at night because it was too quiet, but she also doesn’t really remember not feeling this way either.
(Admittedly she forgets a lot of the details of growing up, memories mostly just full of training and singing and shame.)
That's her biggest problem really– when she goes to lie in her room at night and there’s not a single sound. Even leaving her balcony open doesn’t help; penthouse so high above the rest of the world that the life of the city gets lost. That's how Rumi feels, lying there in the dark with nothing but her own breathing heart to listen to– so far above it all that she might never find her way back down. She will often lie there, replaying her sins, for over half the night until she can finally pass out just before the first rays of light start to filter in.
So Rumi stays busy– really busy. If she can pack her day full of things to do, if she can build the exhaustion up until she can barely stand, then maybe when she falls into bed she won’t have to think about anything. It works often enough to make it worth the questionable looks that the girls give when she leaves for yet another meeting that she probably doesn't really need to be there for. Eventually, her body grows so used to this routine that she barely remembers what it was like to not feel so heavy.
But then– Golden, Takedown, the idol awards, the Namsan Tower. Jinu giving her a million new things to think about, the demons worse than ever, her body slowing down. All of her secrets spilled. She had always thought that, in all of those sleepless nights, her mind had come up with every nightmare situation that could happen to her or because of her, but apparently nothing in her imagination back then held a candle to what she could conjure in her dreams now.
So while, yes, Rumi is no stranger to exhaustion, she’s learning that there are always new peaks to meet. With the girls officially on hiatus after everything, and with Zoey and Mira watching her closer than ever, Rumi’s tried and true “work until she literally has to pass out” method is no longer an option. Now her nights are spent sitting on the couch with her girls watching movies until everyone can barely keep their eyes open before Rumi can finally slip into her room; which then just results in that fucking silence waking her up again. And whenever she does finally drift, it’s the nightmares that bring her back; every night (morning) shooting up in her bed, soaked in sweat, lungs empty. It's a blessing that she can never really remember the details (flashes, sometimes, of Mira and Zoey but not or things that should have happened but didn’t).
They don’t push her, but they must know because this new level of bone-deep tired leaves her unable to do much masking anymore. She knows she must look awful when she leaves her room in the mornings, the way Zoey looks at her even if she’s trying not to let it show, but Rumi is too relieved to leave her room to spend more time in there pretending she’s not falling apart.
Maybe that’s what’s the most tiring really, even more than the lost sleep. That she’s still walking around on tip toes even after everything. It’s her own fault– the guilt clawing at her throat whenever she looks at them and knows there are still things she’s keeping from them. It's unfair really that the only thing that can bring her some semblance of peace, their presence, is also the thing she tries to avoid the most now. And she knows that they’ve noticed that too, and while they have been giving her space, it’s also no surprise when Mira finally calls her out on it.
“I think that we all need to talk,” she says, phrasing it like her and Zoey hadn’t already discussed this without Rumi around. Rumi freezes where she is, hand just short of pressing the elevator call button.
“Right now?” Rumi asks, nerves leaking into her tone despite her best effort. (Not that her best really means anything these days.) “I was just going to check something in the studio,” she adds, not sure if that’s even true. Mostly she was just trying to avoid– well, this.
“We’re three weeks into our break,” Mira deadpans. “You are literally not allowed to do anything work related yet.”
“What she means,” Zoey interrupts, then pauses. “Okay, actually yeah, you definitely can not be working again already. If you don’t want to– talk, right now, that’s okay. But come sit with us anyway?” And, well, it’s really hard to say no to either of them, but especially when Zoey looks like that, so Rumi slowly makes her way over to the couch. Zoey immediately scooches over, enthusiastically patting the now empty space between her and Mira, giving Rumi little choice but to sit there. The three sit in a somewhat awkward silence for probably a little too long, their TV droning quietly in the background with whatever the girls had on before Rumi walked by.
“Sooo, was that a no to talking or can we stop pretending you’re not avoiding us?” Mira finally asks. Rumi grimaces a little but ultimately appreciates Mira’s straight-to-the-point choice. She has always enjoyed not having to guess at what Mira wants from her– from anyone really.
“Mira!” Zoey scolds lightly, reaching behind Rumi to flick her forehead.
“Ow!” Mira yelps, hand shooting to where Zoey had attacked her. “You brat!” Mira moves like she’s going to retaliate in some way but Zoey tucks herself close to Rumi using her as a block. “Coward.”
The whole display makes Rumi smile in a way she can’t help, and oh isn’t this exactly why she’s been avoiding them. They've done nothing but bring her comfort since this whole mess started and ended; their energy alone, a soothing balm on her soul. Then she remembers that she’s still lying to them (the reason she hasn’t talked to Celine since, the horrible things her mind makes up about them at night, all of the little lies that built over the years) and the guilt starts to creep in.
Right now though she quickly gets jostled out of it by Zoey yanking a little on her arm, pulling Rumi closer to avoid Mira’s second attempt at revenge. She's wearing a hoodie, habits hard to break, and she wishes she could feel the touch on her skin. She places a hand down on Zoey’s knee and says, a little stiffly, “It’s- fine. We can…talk if you would both like.” It's the least she can do for them.
“Actually we talk and you listen,” Mira corrects. “At first anyway- you can say anything you want, of course, but there is something we have to say first if you’re willing to listen.”
She looks between them, a little confused, but nods anyway. What could they possibly have to say to her? She's the liar. They've already apologized for everything.
“We've been, uhm, talking,” Zoey starts, a little sheepish. Rumi assumes she feels bad for talking about Rumi without her there, but she doesn’t care or mind, so she just lightly squeezes Zoey’s knee in what she hopes to be a comforting gesture. Zoey smiles at her before continuing. “We both agree that we messed up. When we last talked about…everything.”
Rumi wants to ask what they mean, they’ve done nothing wrong in her eyes, but her throat feels too tight and freely given the option to not have to speak, she takes that easier path– cowardly, but she is what she is.
“Can I?” Mira asks carefully, leaving her hand palm up somewhere near Rumi’s thigh but not touching. Rumi swallows once before lacing their hands together. “I know that we…I reacted strongly to everything that happened and– okay relax,” she says, pulling Rumi’s hand into her lap and squeezing. She must have felt the way Rumi’s entire body had stiffened. “This isn’t about you being a demon– although I do think there is more to discuss about that overall, but clearly we need more time–.”
“Which is okay!” Zoey interrupts again, hugging Rumi’s arm tighter. “You can have all the time you need, which is what we’re trying to say really.”
“Can you let me finish?” Mira complains with exaggerated annoyance, leaning around Rumi to look at Zoey who sticks her tongue out, nearly licking Rumi in the process. Intentional or not, she doesn’t know, but it does help her relax a little again. “Everyone here is so impatient. What i’m trying to say is me and Zoey fucked up when we said there could be no more secrets between all of us. That isn’t fair.”
Rumi looks between the two bewildered– that’s what this whole mess is about, isn’t it? “But I…”
“I mean, ideally, we don’t want to be hiding stuff from each other,” Zoey starts. “Like, of course I want to know everything about you. And Mira! And for you guys to know my stuff.” Zoey finally releases Rumi as she talks more, using her hands for unrelated gestures. “You’re definitely not the only person who had stuff you kept private though– I mean we were all trained with the whole ‘no weaknesses’ thing, which I have so many questions about now, and yeah your whole demon thing was probably the biggest thing?” her voice gets a little higher at the end, unsure, and when she glances at Mira the other girl just shrugs. “Well regardless I’m sure we all have things that we might keep to ourselves sometimes, and it was a lot of pressure from us to make you promise to never hide anything again.”
“We still would like to know whatever it is you’re keeping from us now,” Mira continues, rubbing circles into Rumi’s hand. Before Rumi can worry too much, she adds, “but only because we can see how it’s weighing on you, and we want to be there for you. And we only want you to tell us, when you want to, when you’re ready to talk. We're not asking you to force yourself to spill everything that you’re holding in there, but we do want you to know that whenever you want to lighten that load…”
“We can help you hold it,” Zoey finishes, grabbing Rumi’s other hand, flashing her most honest smile. “ I don't know if you’ve forgotten but I'm, like, secretly so strong.” She lifts her free arm, flexing it. “This bad boy can hold so much trauma.”
The stupid joke rips a short laugh out of Rumi, surprising herself. She can’t look at either of them directly right now but pulls both hands into her own lap and squeezes hard. “I don't…” her voice comes out too thick, tries clearing her throat, but the words won’t come. Tears start to fill her eyes, frustrating herself even further. Her grip on their hands gets even tighter, but neither girl complains; Mira simply raises her hand to carefully swipe away the tear that leaks out and Zoey rests her head on Rumi’s shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Mira whispers. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just sit with us? Please?” When Rumi gives a shaky nod, Mira smiles and gently tugs until Rumi is leaning her weight against Mira’s side. (Well her and Zoey’s weight, who follows.) Usually feeling so contained like this is uncomfortable, bells ringing in her head, the imaginary pressure on her chest come to life but right now all she feels is warm. It’s nice– it always is, being with them.
“We've got you,” Zoey says, face tucked against Rumi. “Always. We promise you don’t have to be alone anymore.”
Rumi closes her eyes and breathes freer than she has in weeks. Her voice still doesn’t return, but the girls don’t seem to mind; they fill the night with easy chatter about the low-budget movie playing, things they want to do with their break, and Zoey’s new fascination with jellyfish (which she seems a little shy about?).
At some point, Rumi finds her awareness jumping back to herself, mind having drifted into a half-sleep state without her realizing. “Sorry,” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep, the first thing she’s said in hours. “Didn’t mean to.”
“You should,” Mira says, full of affection. There's a blanket over them now that Rumi doesn’t remember, and the TV isn’t even on anymore. Zoey is dead weight on Rumi’s right, seemingly also asleep. Mira is still holding her hand. “Do you want to get into bed?” Mira asks.
Rumi hesitates, embarrassed. “I don't want, uhm,” she trails off, unsure, but Mira’s hand in hers, the blanket, Zoey, and the knowledge that she doesn’t have to say anything she doesn’t want gives her a short burst of confidence. “I don't want to be alone. At night, it’s…quiet.”
“Okay,” Mira says, standing up. She finally drops Rumi’s hand now to stretch out her whole body, likely cramped from two girls sleeping on her for hours. “Your room or mine?”
“What?” Rumi asks, feeling a little delayed and already missing her hand.
“To sleep in, dummy,” she says, like it's obvious. Maybe it is. Mira starts to scoop Zoey into her arms, who automatically latches on and barely conscious, mumbles, “Where are we going?”
“Yours?” Rumi finally answers, shy, like she isn’t sure that can actually be the answer even though it was offered. She isn’t sure she wants to face her own room right now though.
“We're relocating the cuddle pile to a much better spot,” Mira tells Zoey, who is barely there, but faintly ‘wooos’ in response and stretches an arm out looking for Rumi. She grabs Zoey’s hand before the girl can knock Mira off balance with her searching and let’s Zoey and Mira lead her to Mira’s room in a slightly awkward train, trying to keep pace, so Zoey’s arm doesn’t bend weird (although she has to let go to fit through the door). Mira drops Zoey somewhat unceremoniously on the bed, where she bounces once with a startled, “Hey!”.
“Rude,” Zoey giggles, wiggling under the covers and making herself at home. Rumi wonders if this is a home to her and hovers at the edge, unsure of her place.
“Do you want to take this off?” Mira asks gently, tugging at Rumi’s sleeve. “It’s okay if you want it, but you might overheat sharing a bed with it on. Up to you.”
Rumi squeezes her hands into fists, takes a breath, releases. She nods once but doesn’t move, feeling a little stuck. When Rumi still doesn’t move, Mira slowly (so Rumi can stop her at any second) starts to lift the hoodie off for her; Mira watches her face the whole time and Rumi feels a little bare before it’s even really off. Once she’s done, Mira takes care to fold it (something Rumi never even does herself) and place it on her desk. Before Rumi has much time to think about her exposed patterns, Zoey starts aggressively patting the middle of the bed and Mira gives her a gentle push on the back.
Similar to earlier on the couch, Rumi has little choice but to slot herself exactly where they want and Mira gets in on her other side. She lies a little stiff on her back and Zoey latches onto her again, head on her shoulder, arm thrown over to reach Mira.
Mira lies on her side, head propped up on her hand, her other threading through Rumi’s hair. “Sleep,” she says, voice low. Rumi worries that Mira will try to wait for her, that she won’t be able to sleep like usual, and that the thoughts will come back now that they’re settled; but that stifling silence doesn’t show. She can hear Zoey already snoring softly beside her and Mira humming.
She falls asleep so seamlessly that the next thing Rumi knows is light streaking across her face. She blinks her eyes open slowly, a little dazed. Her mind still feels sleep heavy and for a moment she forgets where she is until she feels Mira’s long fingers scratching at her scalp. She's in Mira’s bed, where she slept. Mira is still there, soothing Rumi even in her sleep, and Zoey has stayed as well. It must be far past the time either of them would usually be in bed based on how rested Rumi feels (a near foreign concept) and how they both seem to be keeping occupied.
Mira is reading one of her many books, page awkwardly turned with only one hand, unwilling to let the other stop its ministrations in Rumi’s hair. Zoey seems to be watching videos on her phone, but the sound is muted and Rumi knows it's because she didn’t want to wake her– the same way Rumi knows that Zoey also chose not to wear headphones in case Rumi did wake. There's no reason for them to both still be here in bed with her and the feeling catches in her throat again.
“Morning tiger,” Mira greets, feeling Rumi move under her hand, using her latest nickname. She immediately closes her book and places it on her night stand and Rumi notices that, with only one hand, she couldn’t even mark her place. Zoey drops her phone quickly (Rumi is pretty sure she hears it bounce to the floor, which concerns her a little) and rolls over, curling back into Rumi’s side.
“Late morning,” she notes, smiling. “Did you sleep well?”
What a question it is– did she sleep well? Better than I have in my entire life, I think, she wants to say. I don't know if I've ever actually slept before this. I didn't know it could feel this way. It all gets stuck though. Something must be happening on her face though, because Zoey’s starts to scrunch in concern.
“Rumi?” she asks, voice a little strained. “Are you– is something wrong?” She moves a hand to wipe at Rumi’s cheeks and that’s when she realizes she’s started crying.
“Sorry,” she chokes out, embarrassed for waking up in tears because– she’s happy? Because she feels safer than she has in years?
“You're okay,” Mira says, her other hand finding Rumi’s again under the covers. She sounds just as worried as Zoey and Rumi wants to tell them that she is okay, but her voice is always so hard to find.
“M’fine,” she manages to get out, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears. “Good,” she adds, knowing they wouldn’t be comforted by fine.
“Happy?” Zoey asks, starting to understand. Rumi nods her head aggressively, searching for Zoey’s hand so she has both again.
“Can we– stay? A little longer? Please?” Rumi asks, so desperate to keep this feeling for just a moment longer.
“Of course,” Mira murmurs, scooting back down so she can hold Rumi properly. “We can stay here as long as you want.”
And Rumi knows that she means it; that they both do. If she asked to do nothing but lie in this bed until the sun fell again, she knows they would. She won’t need that, she just wants to bask a little, but she finds that she likes knowing she could. It's also why Rumi knows that she’s going to tell them everything she can today, as soon as she can find her voice. Having been told last night that she doesn’t need to tell them anything has lifted such a weight, and she finds now that she really doesn’t want to hold anything back. She wants to feel like she does right now, forever.
But she has time for all of that. Right now she just wants exactly this.