Chapter Text
Four white walls, one white ceiling, one wooden door and one wooden floor.
A few cupboards, one desk and two framed photographs.
The office was like a meticulously clean lair. Silence haunted this lair, or rather the owner of it and wherever she chose to dwell, in the same way ghosts haunt graveyards – quiet as death but never really gone.
Most people didn’t know what to do with this silence, they tried to occupy it with laughs that were too loud and smiles that were too wide. These women didn’t do that, didn’t try to fill the absence. Instead, they let it empty them.
Fifteen years ago, Mi-Yeong of the Sunlight Sisters died. And no matter how present they seemed, Celine and Min Ju did too.
(An eternal solar eclipse – the constant absence of sunlight.)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
All the best parts of themselves died with their leader and they were left with the broken pieces of each other. A sisterly relationship was stripped bare by grief and beaten by burden. Despite loving Mi-Yeong in very different ways from each other, they felt the loss in painful similarity.
Celine announced the disbanding to the public, she felt it was her duty as the eldest – nobody reminded her that she used to be the second oldest, she already knew it too well. The ‘used to, was, did, not now, not anymore, gone’ of it all haunted every waking and sleeping moment.
Min Ju, the maknae, tried her best to stretch over the holes with her brightness but it wasn’t long before she fell into one and didn’t come back up. After balancing on her last straw for so long, it had been yanked from beneath her by a creature who was just too innocent for the sin it was.
A baby.
(Of some sorts.)
The flesh and blood of Mi-Yeong.
(But did it have either of those things?)
Soft, fragile skin and small, useless limbs. A mouth only capable of feeding or wailing to be fed. Eyes opening occasionally to slip out liquid vulnerability and violet strands of hair which were too soft for the devilishness that caused them.
(How cruelly ironic it was that this little monster was the only remnants of the greatest woman who ever lived.)
Demons have no need for a mother, you see, they don’t deserve one. Therefore, any women who have the misfortune to birth such a beast are doomed from the second they conceive. Life has no mercy for the beauty of your soul or the goodness of your heart when you carry corruption, suffering and upmost evilness in your womb.
(Tainting the world with young malice is a crime punishable by a slow, painful demise.)
So, Mi-Yeong broke down into a mess so unfair for the masterpiece that she was.
Veins poisoned a deep purple beneath greying skin, breathing becoming a battle that she was sorely losing, the huntress passed like the threat of a storm – dark, sorrowful and oh so heavy.
Unsurprising to no one and bittersweet to everyone, love had been the last thing to succumb to the finality of her condition.
(But love can only beat a failing heart for so long.)
Cradled in the lap of her betrayed beloved and hands held by the closest thing she had to a little sister, Mi-Yeong croaked her last words with the softness and beauty that she used to sing in.
“Make sure my girl is loved.”
Her body stilled with the beginnings of a smile that could never be finished, and her eyes were closed by hands that quivered with the loss of grip.
“I promise.” Celine had vowed with a hoarse voice and resolve to protect whatever was left of her one and only now gone and forever.
“That thing is not a girl.” Min Ju had hissed with sweetness soured into something bitter and unwell.
(Bolted to the floor by emotion, the new eldest was powerless to stop the maknae turned malicious.)
Min Ju approached the neglected crib that had hosted the reason for all this sorrow for the lonely few months of its life. Correction – existence, not life. Life was too pretty a word for the ugly that it was. Summoned from the grieving Honmoon, iridescent blades hovered above the infant’s head as the wielder shook with tortured fury.
“You can’t kill a baby,” pleaded the goodness left in her.
“It killed her,” spat back the poorly directed fury.
“I won’t let you break my promise,” roared the only person who acted out of love and duty, not mercy.
Mi-Yeong’s ruined body lay on the mat life left it on. Unnamed and unloved and so terribly lonely, the creature wailed in its crib for something other than food but something that didn’t come. Unanswered cries soundtracked the battle erupting in the hanok.
Weapons clashed, blades cut, wounds bled, words shouted, promises kept.
(The aftermath: a scar on Min Ju’s left eye, a permanent limp to Celine’s right leg and a baby named Rumi.)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“My apologies for the scar.” Celine spoke without breaking the silence – you can’t break what’s already broken.
“My apologies for yours.” Min Ju responded without an ounce of remorse, eyeing the framed photograph of a young girl with purple hair and hidden sins.
(Are they sorry? Or do they just know who should be here and mutually crumble in her absence?)
Protectiveness swirled in Celine’s gut and rose her walls like a fortress. Even though she had sworn to protect whatever was left of Mi-Yeong and that only happened to include Rumi, it was impossible not to feel some level of personal fondness despite her questionable quality of parenting.
(There was no quality or parenting, only mentorship with the ghost of motherliness.)
(Celine loved Rumi as much as she could love anyone which wasn’t nearly enough.)
Elbows digging into furnished oak and fingers interlaced with a grip that whitened knuckles, Celine leaned forward and spoke with cold fury and scorching defensiveness.
“If this is about Rumi, we’ve discussed this before. She grew out of her patterns and shows no signs of being a demon, therefore she is none of your business.”
(Celine lied through her teeth. Patterns still clung to Rumi and every aspect of her life. One of the many shameful secrets.)
Lips tucked in and holding back the bitterness laced in her throat when she remembered that Guardians Incorporated – the secret organization that protects the world with everything from Hogwarts to the Marvels to the Hunters – had declared that Mi-Yeong’s demonic offspring was human enough to live freely.
(Neither Min Ju nor Guardians Incorporated knew that Celine made a deal with the demon king himself to assure that Rumi’s hidden identity was untraceable.)
(Except for his branding littered across her skin.)
“As much as I doubt the thing under your care is truly one of us and not one of them.” Min Ju starts scathingly, not stopping when Celine gives her a look that could kill. “I am here to discuss a different matter.”
Half an inch and no less, Celine’s shoulders dropped. She didn’t relax – never did she allow herself that luxury. But the burning urge to give Min Ju’s right eye a matching scar faded when she heard that her custody over Rumi wasn’t being threatened.
Prioritizing privacy and the maintenance of her promise, Celine resigned from GI shortly after the public side of things were handled and usually ignored all its affairs, so it was jarring when Min Ju demanded a meeting. All too aware of the hateful shell that her former bandmate had become, she braced to fight another battle to keep her secrets safe.
It was admittedly a relief that it appeared fighting was currently unnecessary.
As soon as she scarred Min Ju, Celine’s connection with the Honmoon had been severed and she couldn’t summon her weapon.
She couldn’t even see demons anymore.
(Except for a particular adolescent in her care.)
She knew they were still out there. She saw masses of missing people with unexplained disappearances and knew that Gwi-Ma would rise again. But she just couldn’t see it anymore. Even the shimmer of the mystical layer over their world hid from her sight.
She tried not to dwell on how much she grieved it.
The golden Honmoon wasn’t her burden to bear anymore.
(So why was she still so terribly burdened?)
That duty was bestowed to the junior hunters being trained by GI – an organization built off child soldiers. Celine’s duty was protecting Rumi and looking back on the fleeting moments where life was domestic and easy, maybe that duty wasn’t too bad.
But in the suffocating moment of now, the new duty weighed on her like an anvil.
One slip up, one mistake made, one pattern revealed, and it would all be ripped away from here. She would lose Mi-Yeong all over again. And deep down, buried beneath her promise and heartache, she also genuinely couldn’t bare to lose Rumi. Intelligent, kind, unfortunate, beautiful Rumi.
In another life, Celine would’ve quite liked Rumi for a daughter and Mi-Yeong for a wife, but the latter was impossible which made the former unbearable.
“So,” she kept her words careful and gave nothing away other than what she specifically gave. “What are is that different matter and why does it involve me?”
“For the last few years, GI has picked up on irregular demon behaviour. A presence hovering between the demon realm and our world, it’s morphing the Honmoon into something we don’t understand.”
Min Ju’s face contorted with frustration for a moment as she admitted her lack of knowledge reluctantly before covering it with cool triumph.
“However, we’ve recently located the most frequent activity to this area. Especially your school.”
Fortunately, the blindness in Min Ju’s left eye didn’t allow her to see the fleeting horror fracture Celine’s indifference before she mended the falter with practiced ease.
(Her faults and fears must never be seen.)
“We want to investigate and identify the anomaly.” Min Ju explained before sharpening her tone into something low and threatening. “Then terminate it.”
A beat passed. Then two.
The weight of that word hung between them in that graveyard silence. They both knew why it hit so hard. At the trial so many years ago, Min Ju had been hellbent on killing Mi-Yeong’s demon offspring – refusing to call her by her name – while Celine insisted that the Honmoon had cleansed Rumi of her demonic ancestry.
The council decided that Rumi was just an infant with unfortunate parentage that didn’t affect her own species but after that decision was announced, Min Ju had vowed to terminate the demon even if it was over Celine’s dead body. Celine slept with one eye open ever since.
That memory flooded Celine’s thoughts and threatened to drown her before she pulled her focus out of the wreckage and shook her head.
“I assure you that there is no demon activity at my school, I would know.”
This time, no beats passed. Min Ju didn’t hesitate.
“Like you knew about him?”
That was a low blow, a real fucking low blow.
Both women knew and loathed who ‘him’ was. The bastard demon who seduced Mi-Yeong before they could spot the signs. Before Celine could.
Brushing over the way her heart ached at the accusation and blame prickling in Min Ju’s tone, Celine sighed flatly and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Well, I wouldn’t allow a full squad onto my campus.” She rejected firmly despite the weak quiver of supressed tears coiling around her retired vocal cords. “You’d disrupt the students, and my priority is their wellbeing.”
Frustrated but not deterred, Min Ju pulled out three files from her handbag and placed them on the desk. Celine eyed them suspiciously like they were pandora’s box.
“A staff member and two junior hunters.” Min Ju explained as she tapped each file with the identity it contained. “That’s all I need.”
Reluctantly, Celine opened the first one and read its contents, skimming it over for key information.
- Lisa Jeong.
- 37 years old
- former in-battle medic
- expert of demonology
- mentor of the new generation
Then Celine glanced at the picture paperclipped to the corner of the document.
(Shoulder length black curls wrapped into a messy bun, almond eyes that contained sparkles only true kindness could cause, round cheeks creased by a smile.)
The retired hunter ignored the way it made her heart flutter, no wasn’t the time to be distracted by such reactions, so she pushed it to the back of her mind.
(She’d unpack that later, or never. Probably never.)
Nodding slowly, Celine sighed as she conceded. “Okay. I can respect that choice, but two junior hunters involved with the tracking down of an anomaly? Really?”
Smug with the small victory, Min Ju didn’t falter under the doubt. If anything, she only seemed more determined. “They’re the top of their class and have been since they joined in their pre-teens.”
For a moment, for just a fleeting second, something softened.
Almost under her breath like it was a whisper from what remained of her heart, Min Ju’s gaze softened.
“They remind me of us… of how we used to be.”
Surprise flickered in Celine’s reluctance as she glanced up from the files to meet Min Ju’s eye and she almost saw the girl she used to love like a younger sister. But then she saw the scar and remembered that that girl died long ago. Defeated and done with this conversation, she nodded.
“Fine,” she sighed quietly. “I’ll allow your investigation for now.”
The dismissal in Celine’s tone frustrated Min Ju for a moment. She didn’t complain though, she didn’t linger and demand anything more. She just nodded, subtly avoiding eye contact then headed for the door.
“Min Ju?”
Min Ju waited in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder and forcing her remaining eye to meet Celine.
For a moment, they both saw Mi-yeong in each other.
“Yes?”
“You were the closest thing I ever had to a younger sister, and I loved you so much, but I loved Mi-Yeong even more, I can’t allow you to rip away all that I had left of her. And I am so sorry for that.”
“It’s the anniversary.”
Neither of them needed to clarify what or whose anniversary it was.
(The loss that left Min Ju with a scar, Celine with a limp and a motherless baby.)
“I know.”
Min Ju left before the flames of her hatred could be swallowed by the ache of her grief.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Mi-yeong would be ashamed of you.”
The few words whispered so cruelly from the depths of Celine’s mind dragged the breath out of her lungs as soon as the door closed behind Min Ju. Heartbreak ruined her composure and brought a haunted look to her usually unreadable eyes.
That haunting silence became deafeningly quiet, a contradiction that was painfully accurate. Celine stayed sat behind her desk with silent mortification. The internal accusation sunk in and did not resurface. It drowned her. It echoed in her brain like a chant determined to torture her relentlessly.
Then she turned.
And there she was.
Mi-yeong, her Mi-yeong.
Anyone else would be screaming in terror. They would be absolutely scared shitless by the sight of someone who had died in their arms over two decades ago standing in front of them with a pleasant smile.
But Celine wasn’t frightened.
She was sorrowful.
For the first time in years, tears flooded her gaze, and she nearly collapsed from the trembling wrecking her legs as she stood up, but she wouldn’t waste this opportunity. She staggered forwards with the desperation of a wolf caught in a trap, willing to gnaw its own limb off.
She reached.
And she grabbed.
Her hand buried into the back of the living dead woman’s head, fingers digging through her hair with resolution to never let go or at least hang on for as long as possible. Her forehead pressed against the resurrected’s, and her words came out in quivering reverence.
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”
Just as her tears fell and her free hand hovering by Mi-yeong’s cheek was about to cup it, a noise startled her.
It wasn’t a scary noise, only the ringing of the morning bell, but it was enough to break her attention.
She made the mistake of turning her head to peer out the windows, watching the waves of students flooding the campus with a flicker of purple weaving through the crowds with trained grace to reach the student council meeting room.
When she turned back, she was alone again.
Mi yeong was gone, again.
Sinking into her chair like a wilting flower, she collapsed before retrieving the small bottle hidden in her draw and swallowing a few pills – medication, for the ‘schizophrenia.’
Celine knew that it wasn’t just hallucinations. She knew what doctors didn’t. She knew that the Honmoon had tied the remaining pieces of her most beloved’s soul to her own and what she saw was the manifestation of that.
After a year of chasing ghosts, it became too haunting.
So, she took her pills and focused on Rumi, on Huntrix, on the Golden Honmoon.
But sometimes, some days, she’ll purposefully skip a dosage.
And Mi-yeong will be there.
It was unhealthy but did that really matter when she had Mi-yeong again? It was only ever a few minutes, but she knew how many people, how much Min Ju, how much Rumi, would kill for that.
Glancing down wearily at the two framed photographs on her desk and being met with the beautiful woman that haunted her, she wiped some dust off the glass before laying it face down.
The other picture was a rare smile from little Rumi after winning some competition or other. Celine didn’t look at it because that child was identical to Mi-Yeong in all the ways that haunted her.
Then she opened the two closed files with trembling hands and an aching heart. Celine immediately understood why these girls reminded Min Ju of them.
One had sharp features and the aura of a leopard leisurely aware of its power but not too smug.
(She had once carried such confidence before the person she loved with so much certainty had been torn away from her)
The other had the presence of kindness that could be a great weakness or strength, and her features were round with youth.
(Min Ju had once carried such softness before she’d been hardened by grief and a scar.)
Beaten by poor judgment encouraged by sparking curiosity, Celine glanced at Rumi’s photograph and immediately remembered all the similarities that could only be caused by genetics.
In another world, maybe Rumi and these girls loved each other as much as she, Min Ju and Mi-Yeong used to.
Celine brushed away the thought with exhausted scorn but not before registering the names of these two torturous reflections.
Mira Kotadoski and Zoey Choi.