Chapter Text
Rumi had always felt she was different, even if she didnt understand it yet. She just chalked most of it up to being part demon, of course she didnt understand other people. She especially didnt understand other boys, with their short hair and messy clothes. Always yelling and running around, teasing each other and just being loud and annoying. Rumi was never like that, even before she was Rumi.
He was always so quiet and antisocial. Celine wasnt sure if he could see the honmoon, let alone use it. Part of that was his demon father but also there had never been a male hunter before, at least not that she knew of.
Celine decided the best thing to do was to keep him out of the spotlight as much as possible, hide his identity and make sure no one knew he was Ryu’s son. If the boy couldnt be a hunter then at least he could have a normal life (or as normal a life you can have being a half demon).
As a former sunlight sister and current network executive, she had alot of legal perview to make sure no one knew about Ryu’s son. Or if they did they certainly wouldnt tell, lest they be fired on the spot and blacklisted from the industry. He went to school with other kids and shared a small apartment in the city with Celine.
She hoped he could find some friends at school, but the boy was always so quiet in public. The only time he seemed genuinely happy was when they watched old tapes of the sunlight sisters. His eyes would light up and sometimes he would even sing and dance along with the videos. Celine felt a sense of nostalgia and grief watching him like that, so happy and carefree.
“You’re just like your mother, she was always so happy performing.”
And then his eyes would light up even more and he would sing and dance harder, really giving a good show to his one woman audience.
She let him watch as many videos and listen to as much music as he wanted. It wasnt much but it made him happy, and who was she to stop it. One evening during a typical sunlight sisters movie night, the purple haired boy looked up at celine with a question behind his eyes.
“Celine, are there any boy idols? Or is it just girls?”
“Of course, there are many male idol groups and countless co-ed groups. If not idols then at the very least bands, producers, and songwriters. Why do you ask?”
“Hmmm… well. I think I want to be an Idol, like you and mom were.”
Celine’s felt her heart drop for just a moment. Seeing his young face, so hesitant and yet full of hope.
“Well… its not easy. Being an idol is hard work, trust me. But… if you really wanted to, then I’m sure you would be a great idol.”
The boys eyes lit up and a big smile stretched across his face. He hugged Celine and cuddled up to her the rest of the movie night. Meanwhile Celine was doing mental logistics on how a half demon, possibly half hunter could become an idol without being discovered.
Celine started to teach him what she knew about music and singing. They learned piano and guitar together, but just like his mother Ryu, her son loved singing the most. He would sing his mothers songs sometimes, trying to feel closer to her. But he would also sing anything else he listened to. Rock, pop, traditional, theme songs for tv shows, whatever was on the radio. He would even practice harmonizing with the singers he heard, rather than just copying what they did. Sometimes he would throw in some personal flair or styling if he felt like it. Celine had to admit, the kid was a natural, and she knew his mother would have been proud of him.
When they werent practicing music Celine taught him self defense, just in case demons ever came after him, or god forbid a hunter or someone else saw his patterns. Speaking of which his patterns were growing, down his arms and chest, around his back, spreading from his heart. It wasnt anything sudden or dramatic, but each day, week, month, and year, they would cover more skin. By the time he was 10, the patters had covered most of his torso and were almost down to his elbows.
Thats also when he started puberty.
During a vocal lesson his voice cracked on the high note. He tried to keep going but he broke again, this time in his most comfortable range. Celine watched as he grabbed his throat and went to get some water, eyes wide with worry. She followed him to the kitchen and noticed his hands shake slightly as he poured a glass from the tap, downing the water like a dying man.
“Its alright dear, these things can happen more and more as you get older. Everyones voice changes and it can change your singing as well, but we can work on it and help you find your new vocal range as you go through puberty.”
At the word puberty he visibly stiffened and shrank in on himself, still clutching his throat.
“Umm, ok Celine. I think Im actually kind of tired though, so I’m gonna go to my room. Maybe do some homework before going to bed.”
“Oh, ok then. Good night $@%”
That night he lay awake in his bed, feeling something deeply uncomfortable and unsettling in his chest. His voice couldn’t change, not now, hes still so young. Celine mentioned his body would change as he got older, not just his voice but his height, his hair, his muscles. She had gotten him a book when he was 8 to help explain some of the details she wasnt well versed on. It was all about boys bodies during puberty and to be frank it had been incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, possibly even traumatic. But Celine had wanted to be careful since she barely knew his father, or if demons even got puberty and if so when and for how long.
Frankly he was terrified. Mostly about his voice but also becaue he didnt want to look like that. He didnt want to be tall, or hairy, or smell bad, or have acne. And he just didnt want to sound like a man. All the songs he sang along to were by women, and he could match them fairly well since his voice was still so young. But all that would change after puberty, and he might have to sing in a much lower register than he wants to.
He wrestles with these feelings all night, slipping in and out of a light restless sleep. And in the morning he woke up, put on some clothes that didnt fit right even though Celine swore it was his proper size, and made hinself some breakfast before leaving for school.
He didnt like school very much. He liked learning, and his teachers were nice. But the other kids never wanted to play with him. The girls all thought he was just a gross stinky boy (he was), and the boys thought he was a dumb sissy baby (he was). He kept to himself, stayed small, quiet, and out of the way. He didnt make trouble with anyone, didnt give them a reason to talk to him or pick on him. Just blended in with the backround, going through the motions until the day ended and he could go home. Somedays he felt like a ghost or a shadow, like he wasnt in his actual body but floating somewhere behind or above himself. A spectator watching someone else go about their day, go about his day. He wondered if it was a demon thing, or if everyone else felt like this.
One morning in the bathroom he saw something while brushing his teeth. At first he thought it was some dirt, but after trying to brush it away he realized what it was. A hair, growing out of his face. He had to hold onto the sink so he wouldnt throw up, knuckles white from his grip, his patterns glowing a sickly bright pink (that normally would have looked nice
Since he actually liked pink). He was breathing rapidly, heart racing and shoulders tense. He didnt know how long he was like that until he heard a knock on the door.
“$@&%, you’re going to be late for school if you dont hurry up!”
Celine was outside the bathroom, arms crossed and brows knit in frustration. After some silence her posture loosed and she tried again.
“$@&%? Are you ok? Do you feel sick? If so we have to call the school and let them know.”
As she was mentally preparing to call her office and possibly the school, she heard a subtle thump and what almost sounded like a choked sob.
“$&@%? Im coming in ok?”
She opened the door to her adoptive son curled up on the bathroom floor, hugging his knees and burying his head in his arms. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and his patterns were glowing a bright hot pink, almost looking angry.
Celine knelt down in front of him, not touching him incase he didnt want that, but hovering nearby in case he needed comfort.
“Whats wrong dear? What happened?”
“… I… I’m gross now…and I’m gonna be a gross, stinky boy forever… and I hate it.”
“Honey, no. Your not gross, or stinky. Your just a boy whos turning into a man. All of this is perfectly normal.”
Something about that made him sob harder, his patterns glowed even brighter, spreading further down his arms. Celine was taken aback for a moment. Why were the patterns so bad? Why were they getting worse? What can she possibly do to fix this? she was lost in her head for a minute until a small broken voice pulled her back to comforting the child in front of her.
“I… I dont want to be a man…
I just wish I had been born a girl.”
Celine froze, sensing she was way out of her depth here. Demons taking over the world? Just a regular night for her. Thousands of fans and paparazzi swarming her for pictures and autographs? Just a normal tuesday at work. But this, this was something she was not at all prepared for in any way. This terrified half demon boy curled up and crying on the bathroom floor, saying he wished he was born a girl. This was something else, something she had no idea how to handle.
After calming him down and calling in sick for both of them, Celine asked her adoptive son to clarify more of what he meant. It was a difficult conversation, partially because he didnt have the words to describe how he felt, and partially because he had never had the time or space to think about any of this. He had no big answer to why he felt the way he did, no big reveal about how he always knew who he was. He was just as uncertain as Celine in all this, the only difference was that he was the one suffering for it.
As Celine asked more questions he answered as best he could, with plenty more crying and hugs as they talked. Eventually he fell asleep, curled up in Celine’s arms, eyes and nose red and puffy. She set him down on the couch and put a throw blanket on him, watching him sleep for a moment before grabbing her laptop.
If there was one thing Celine knew how to do, it was to bury herself in work. It was how she coped when things got to be to much, she would put her head down and plow through, tackling one problem at a time until her shoulders and chest felt lighter. She searched the internet for anything that could help her, and read countless articles and forums talking about transgender people (a word she learned in her internet searching).
Apparently there are quite a few people who feel like they’re a different gender, and struggle with mental health because of it. Celine also found some nearby resources that could help like specialized therapy and support groups. Its seems like medical and legal transitioning was difficult in Korea, but she could afford to go overseas for healthcare if necessary. She looked up from the coffee table at her adoptive son? daughter? Watching him… her sleep. Purple hair and patterns, face puffy from crying. Celine let out a big sigh from her nose, brushing a purple hair out of the childs face.
“I made a promise to her, I will protect you no matter what.”
Nothing happened overnight, it was a slow process of weekly therapy sessions and small steps for both of them. The therapist recommended puberty blockers for the time being, and wrote them a perscription.
“to give you time to experiment and find out who you are without going into another panic attack.”
Everything was done under the table with NDAs and legal paperwork to make sure that none of this was leaked to the public. They both wanted to figure things out quietly, without the weight of the sunlight sisters and their fanbase hanging over them. Therapy was helping and Celine had pulled her adoptive daughter out of public school, choosing to homeschool her with online lessons and private tutors instead. The therapist had suggested trying out names and pronous, to see what felt good.
“Its all about how it feels for you to hear and say it. You dont need to change your name but many people prefer one that fits their gender identity. Ultimately its all up to you, it is what you’re going to hear your whole life.”
That night after Celine was fast asleep, a young purple haired girl lay awake under the covers, phone screen lighting up her face. She was looking up girl names to see if any of them sounded good. To be honest she was putting way too much pressure on this, but its her name! It has to be perfect, something that fits her just right. It wasnt like she hated her current name, it was fine, but it was a boys name and it just… never felt right.
But nothing she could find online felt right either. Eventually she ended up searching Ryu-Meong out of curiosity. (No way was she going to use her dead moms name and bring up all of her and Celine’s baggage, plus it just feels weird). And she found that her moms name meant brilliant dragon, or something like that. She felt an ache in her heart, missing someone she never met. What would Ryu have named her if she was a girl? Did Celine know? Even if she did theres no way she would ask that, anything related to her mom is sensitive for Celine.
The young girl sighed and let her arms fall to her sides. She stared at the ceiling trying to picture her mom there with her, what she would say to help. She closed her eyes and whispered “Ryu, Ryu Meong”.
After a beat she said it again. “Ryu Meong. Ryu. Meong. Ryu Meong”. Repeating the name as if it was a mantra to summon her spirit. “Ryu… Ru…Ru…Meong… Me…Ong…Mi…Ru…Mi…Rumi.”
At the word Rumi she opened her eyes, staring at her ceiling like it held the answer. “Rumi. Rumi.” She pulled out her phone to check if that was a real name. Apparently it was! It had meanings of royalty and association with lapis lazuli.
Getting up and going to the bathroom, she turned on the lights and waited for her eyes to adjust. Looking at herself in the mirror she practiced the name. “Rumi. Hello Im Rumi. Nice to meet you Im Rumi.”
She closed her eyes and imagined herself standing on a stage, singing her heart out to a beutiful melody. Beside her two other girls sang and danced around her, harmonizing with her while letting her take center stage. The crowd cheered her name, hearts united together in the strands of the honmoon.
“Ru-mi, Ru-mi, Ru-mi!”
She opened her eyes and saw Rumi. Saw herself in the mirror, with her purple hair still growing out, her demon patterns on her upper body, her soft brown eyes. And for the first time in possibly her whole life, Rumi saw herself.