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This is What it Sounds Like

Summary: During the opening night of the comeback tour, Rumi is nervous about her step back into the spotlight after revealing her demon heritage. Years of suppression and shame won't go away just with a song, and Mira and Zoey are starting to notice cracks in their fearless leader.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, self hatred, self mutilation, hallucinations.

A/N: Did anyone else hate that Mira and Zoey went to attack Rumi and then they just never discussed it again. Not on my watch. 2.9k words. Also please send in requests for the Huntrix girls.

Rumi thought she would be over this.

The dressing room was just like all the others they had gotten ready in over the years. Same lights, same buzzing chaos. The only real difference was that this time, Rumi wasn’t alone. Mira and Zoey—her two closest friends, the people she loved more than anyone in the world—were right there with her.

And her patterns were on full display.

After the disaster at the IDOL Awards and the chaotic Saja boys concert that followed, Rumi didn’t dare to look at her social media, leaving the task of posting to Bobby. The crowd was under the influence of the now banished Gwi Ma, so the demonic powers of the Saja boys were forgotten, but the image of Rumi’s patterns remained.

They looked different now. Where there had once been bruised-purple striations, there was now a faint pearlescent glow. But when Rumi looked in the mirror, all she could see was that ugly violet stain—and two orange irises staring back at her.

“I’m so pumped to finally be back on stage! Aren’t you, Rumi?” Zoey chirped, slurping noodles through a mouthful of Huntrix-branded ramyeon.

The sound snapped Rumi out of her trance.

Somehow, while she’d been zoning out, the dressing room had come alive. Stage managers were muttering into walkie-talkies about last-minute lighting adjustments. Stylists fluttered around them, brushing glitter onto shoulders and blotting lipstick. Zoey and Mira were seated on the couch, scarfing down instant noodles like they were still trainees.

“So pumped!” Rumi echoed with a forced smile, flinching as a makeup artist dabbed body glitter onto her shoulder—right over the soft shimmer of her patterns.

The strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Mira, as her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you sure?” she asked, rising to her feet. “You don’t sound sure.”

Zoey looked up too, concern etching across her face as she joined Mira’s side.

Rumi’s throat tightened. Her eyes stung. The bustling energy of the room was only making things worse.

And then—warmth.

“What’s wrong Rumi?” Zoey whispered softly. Rumi felt the ghost of her breath tickle her ear.

During their hiatus, the girls had talked—really talked. Rumi had told them the truth. Her father was a demon, though she knew nothing else about him. Celine had come up with the plan to conceal her patterns, and once the Honmoon was sealed, they were supposed to fade completely.

She had been afraid—terrified—that once the truth was out, Mira and Zoey would turn on her.

But instead, they held her tighter.

“You’re more than your patterns Rumi,” Mira had said. "What makes you different is what saved us.”

After that night, Rumi felt closer to her girls than ever before.

But somehow, every time she closed her eyes, she saw them raising their weapons to her. Their eyes afraid. Their voices cold.

“How could we be together if we don’t know your lies from your truths Rumi?”

Every dream since then had been haunted by demon versions of her friends, taunting her onstage in the dark.

“So sweet, so easy on the eyes, but hideous on the inside.”

“A demon with no feelings don’t deserve to live”

“We see what you are.”

“You’re a demon. A mistake.”

“Rumi?”

Mira’s voice called out to her, slicing through her memories to pull her back into the present like a lifeline.

They had talked it all out right Rumi shouldn’t still be feeling this way.

She let a single tear roll down her cheek.

“I’m just- I'm just nervous about what the fans will think is all. They don’t know what these patterns mean, what if they think I’m a monster?”

Just like you did.

Zoey gently cupped Rumi’s cheek with one hand. With the other, she traced the line of a pattern near Rumi’s eye—light, reverent.

“The fans…” she murmured, trailing her finger down to the edge of Rumi’s neck, “will think you’re beautiful.”

“Just like we do,” Mira added, leaning in to press a kiss to Rumi’s shoulder.

Rumi felt herself relax under their affections. The memory of that awful night slipped back, fading into the corners of her mind like smoke.

She pulled away and grabbed one of the others' hands in her own.

“Thanks guys.”

They smiled

“Now let's go kill this concert!”

Rumi performed flawlessly

The first concert of the Huntrix tour was a huge success. The crowd was electric, singing along to every lyric, waving light sticks in synchronized patterns. The newly sealed Honmoon shimmered in the air above the stage, glowing brighter with every cheer.

Then the post show interview came.

Bobby had scheduled a major sit-down with one of the top entertainment networks as part of their comeback rollout. Since the group’s apparent disbanding during the chaotic IDOL Awards, fans had been desperate for answers. Even with the tour announced, rumors had swirled—fighting, betrayal, broken contracts, heartbreak.

The interview was going smoothly. The girls hit every mark—smiles in place, well-timed laughter, easy banter with the host, heartfelt (but vague) answers about their “hiatus.” It was textbook media training. They were doing everything right. All that was left now was to wrap it up and say a goodbye to-

“Rumi, can you tell us about the marks on your skin?”

The question cut through her like her blade. She froze. Smile plastered on, suddenly hollow. Her mouth was dry. Her breath caught in her chest like a trap had sprung. She couldn’t move.

“Rumi?’ The interviewer asked again after a pregnant pause.

So sweet, so easy on the eyes, but hideous on the inside.

You’re a demon. A mistake

The voices weren't real—they never were. But they echoed anyway.

Rumi prided herself on being kind. Steady. Controlled. But now something hot and ancient stirred inside her—rage that burned like it had during her confrontation with Celine. A primal anger that whispered,they’re afraid of you. They hate you for what you are.

“The marks,” she said, visibly tense, hands clenched in her lap. Her voice taught like a wire about to snap “They show what I am. What I’ve been through. And if people want to call me names because of them, fine. But I won't apologize for surviving.”

Her voice wavered slightly on the last word. Only Mira and Zoey saw the Honmoon—hovering faintly over the room—ripple with a sudden flush of pink.

Zoey gently put her hand on her knee, grounding her.

“What she means,” Mira jumping in smoothly, “is that Rumi’s always been the strongest of us, these patterns just prove it.”

“Oh, well—of course she is! The fearless leader of Huntrix!” the interviewer said quickly, eager to move on. Offstage, Bobby looked like he might pass out.

The rest of the interview passed in a blur. Rumi remembered smiling, waving at the fans through the camera. She hoped it looked real. She hoped it was enough.

Later, back in the greenroom, the makeup was off but the ache remained. Rumi sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders hunched, staring at her reflection in a darkened vanity mirror. The patterns on her arms shimmered faintly in the low light.

The room was quiet now. Zoey and Mira had gone to change into their normal clothes. Bobby was somewhere talking to press. For the first time all night, Rumi was alone.

And that’s when the singing began.

A soft, familiar melody—off-key, slightly warped—floated from the hallway.

Takedown, takedown

Takedown, down, down, down

Her heart stuttered.

No one was supposed to be here.

She frantically looked around, telling herself that this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Gwi Ma was gone. They had defeated him after the IDOL awards.Zoey and Mira loved her.

They had promised. They had promised, right?

A faint purple glow caught her eye—coming from the corner where the vanity mirror stood.

Part of her still hated looking in the mirror.

She whipped her head around anyways and ran over to see her reflection. There they were. To her horror a grotesque, distorted image of Mira and Zoey looked back at her. Their eyes held nothing but contempt and malice. Their voices rang out with the words that haunted her every waking moment.

“Cause I see your real face and it's ugly as sin

Time to put you in your place 'cause you're rotten within

When your patterns start to show

It makes the hatred wanna grow outta my veins”

They dragged their hands across the Honmoon and summoned their weapons pointing them at Rumi. Only then did she notice her own reflection.

Her patterns were dark again, like a bruise and angry. Her irises blazed orange. Her hands had transformed into purple claws. Sharp teeth. Horns curling from her scalp.

No. No. No.

This isn't happening. I won't become this.

The patterns on her face pulsed with angry light, as if resisting her panic. With a guttural cry, Rumi dragged her claws across her face, desperate to tear the patterns away. They remained—untouched. Her skin, unmarred. The glow intensified, mocking her.

Her scream tore through the room as she summoned her blade from the Honmoon, raising it above her head—shaking, wild-eyed—ready to strike.

“RUMI NO!”

Zoey burst into the room and tackled her just as the blade came down. They tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs and tears. Rumi panted, trembling as she looked into Zoey’s terrified eyes.

“Rumi!” Zoey sobbed, holding her tightly. “What were you doing?!”

Rumi couldn’t answer. Her breath came in ragged gulps as she pushed Zoey off her with a grunt and ran back to the mirror.

Her patterns were back to their iridescent shine. But her face bore angry red scratches from her claws—evidence of her breakdown.

Zoey hurriedly got up from the floor and ran over to her. She grabbed a tissue from the vanity and dabbed at the few drops of blood that had managed to break through Rumi’s skin and gently stroked Rumi’s hair with trembling fingers.

“Rumi, what happened?” she whispered, barely louder than a breath. “You really scared me.I thought we said we’d talk about how you’re feeling… not keep it all in again.”

Rumi trembled. The hallucination still clawed at the edges of her mind.

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Rumi blurted out. Her voice rose to a yell “You have no idea how it feels to look in the mirror and not know if you’re the monster everyone fears!”

Zoey gasps at Rumi’s outburst.

The door creaked. Mira stood in the doorway, half-dressed, expression hard to read.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, eyes zeroing in on Rumi’s torn face. “Rumi what the hell happened to your face?”

Zoey’s soft sniffles caught both of their attention. Tears were softly falling from her eyes.

“Zoey,” Rumi said, realizing what she had done. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

Mira quickly crossed the room and wrapped Zoey in her arms, pulling her protectively to her side.“Come here,” she murmured, gently brushing Zoey’s hair behind her ear. Then she turned to Rumi. Her tone softened, but carried weight.

“Rumi... I don’t know what happened to you during that interview, or just now. But yelling at Zoey? After everything? That’s not okay.”

Rumi looked down, ashamed.

“But…” Mira continued, more gently now, “I do know that something’s eating at you. I saw it in your eyes. I felt it when you spoke tonight. You’re scared. And you're hurting. I get it.”

She brushed Zoey’s hair back, soothing her.

“But you’re not alone. You don’t have to claw your way through this by yourself. That’s what we’re here for. But if you shut us out—if you lash out at us—it’s going to feel even worse.”

Mira’s eyes softened.

“Please don’t make us feel like we’re losing you again.”

Rumi didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

Mira turned with Zoey in her arms and guided her toward the door. Just before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder.

She didn’t close it.

Rumi hoped that meant something.

She collapsed onto the couch, breathing in silence.

She looked at the mirror again.

This time, her reflection didn’t taunt her. It simply stared. Her face was back to normal—but the scratches, the wild eyes, the fear—they were all real.

She touched the claw marks on her cheek.

What if it happens again?

What if next time they’re not there to stop me?

What if… I become the thing I’m trying to protect them from?

She curled her arms around herself.

And the Honmoon shimmered faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Rumi liked going to the rooftops at night.

Looking down at the city made her problems feel smaller—almost manageable. She watched the Honmoon shimmer in the sky above the skyline, its glow dancing in the same colors as her patterns. The wind kissed the exposed skin on her cheeks, making the fading marks there sting.

Huntrix had finished the second night of their world tour just a day ago. Rumi should’ve been resting.

But she couldn’t stop thinking.

What if the episodes kept coming back?

What if she could never truly feel the love Mira and Zoey had for her? What if she ruined it—again?

Her eyes welled with tears as she tugged at the sleeves of her jacket, trying to hide the patterns on her arms. Since she’d upset Zoey, she’d gone back to covering them. She couldn’t bear to let anyone see them right now.

“You always did pick the dramatic spots,” came a soft voice behind her.

Rumi didn’t turn, but she knew it was Mira.

“We brought snacks,” Zoey added, holding up a convenience store bag like it was a peace offering.

“I got those spicy shrimp chips you like,” she said, nudging her playfully. “I also… might’ve eaten half the bag on the way up.”

The girls sat on either side of Rumi, thighs touching. They were all silent for a moment. Rumi sat as still and rigid as a statue. She was afraid that any sudden movement would break her and show.

Mira’s hand on her thigh was all it took.

“I keep seeing it,” she whispered. “That moment… after the IDOL Awards. When you both—when you raised your weapons at me.”

Zoey tensed beside her. Mira closed her eyes.

“I know you were trying to help,” Rumi said quickly. “I know. But… something in me keeps going back to it. My brain replays it like it’s proof. That the people I love most once thought I was dangerous enough to stop.”

Her voice cracked.

“And then the dreams started. That hallucination in the greenroom? It wasn’t the first time. It’s always you two. But wrong. Demonic. Cruel. Singing Takedown like it was written for me. Telling me I’m a mistake. That I’m rotten inside.”

She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“And the worst part is… I believed them.”

Mira exhaled slowly.

“You weren’t you in that moment. You were hurting. Overwhelmed. We thought we were losing you.” Zoey said softly.

Rumi shook her head and let out a sob. “But you still aimed at me!”

Mira reached for her hand—slowly, like approaching a wild animal. She waited for Rumi to flinch. She didn’t.

“We didn’t know what else to do,” Mira confessed. She placed her hand on Rumi’s cheek and gently turned her head towards her.

Zoey leaned her head on Rumi’s shoulder. “You saved us, Rumi. You saved everyone. And you still think you're the villain of the story.”

“Because I was the villain of the story,” Rumi said, voice breaking. “We’re hunters. We’re supposed to kill demons. So what does that make me?”

She looked down at her covered arms, her voice barely audible. “My whole life I was told these patterns were wrong. That I had to hide them. That once they were gone, I could finally start living the life I pretended to have. But they’re still here—and now I know they’ll never go away.”

Her breath hitched.

“How could I ever expect you to love me when I can’t even stand to look at myself in the

The silence that followed was thick. Unmoving. The only sound was the wind brushing past them.

Mira was the first to speak.

“Rumi… when we first saw you with patterns, we were scared. That part’s true. We were confused—because we were raised to fear demons. Raised to believe they couldn’t be trusted.”

Rumi flinched, but Mira didn’t let go.

“But even more than that, we were taught to rely on each other. To love each other. And we know you, Rumi.”

She reached over Rumi’s legs, gently took Zoey’s hand, and laced their fingers together. “So if you’re part demon? That doesn’t change a damn thing.”

Zoey shifted closer. Her voice was soft, but unwavering.

“I don’t love you despite your patterns, Rumi,” she whispered. “I love you because you fight through every reason you were told not to. Every lie. Every fear. You wake up and try again. That’s who you are.”

She kept one hand in Mira’s, and with her free one, gently placed Rumi’s hand over her chest.

“This? You already have it. All of it.”

Mira leaned in and put her forehead on Rumi’s.

“We were told to fear demons our whole lives. But I’ve never met anyone with more heart than you,” she murmured. “You carry your pain like armor, but you’ve never once used it to hurt someone. You don’t scare me, Rumi. You ground me.”

She brushed her lips softly against Rumi’s temple.

“We don’t want the version of you that’s hiding. We want you. All of you. Patterns and all.”

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