HI I AM ALIVE I PROMISE LIFE GOT SUPER BUSY AFTER I RECOVERED FROM COVID HERE TAKE THIS AS AN APOLOGY
CRASH
The sound was sharp, violent—like a hammer beating through the cozy hum of the movie. Mira and Zoey both jerked hard at the noise, Mira’s pulse spiking like she’d been jolted awake from a nightmare. Zoey’s startled gasp echoed Mira’s sharp inhale, their heads snapped toward the kitchen at the exact same moment, eyes wide, only to discover… absolutely nothing.
Just an empty space past the counter, still and quiet. No movement. No Rumi.
And that—more than the crash—was the most alarming part. The silence sent a chill in the air making the hairs on Mira’s arm rise.
“Rumi?” Zoey called out, her voice wavering with a blend of confusion and unease. She shifted forward on the couch, straightening up, her eyes straining over the countertop as though the few inches of height would help her see the other side. “Rumi, are you okay?”
Silence.
Mira didn’t wait for a response. Her body moved on instinct, vaulting over the backrest of the couch with the precision of a leopard. The dancer landed hard on her feet, and hurried into the kitchen. Mira’s pulse roared in her ears as her heart rate began to spike. Behind her, she heard the shuffle of Zoey rising and following, but she didn’t turn back.
Mira rounded the kitchen counter and stopped dead.
The scene before her was utter chaos like the start of a crime scene. A yellow ceramic plate lay shattered across the tiles, its jagged shards glittering in the soft kitchen light like broken teeth. The once neat rows of Mira’s carefully rolled kimbap were scattered across the floor, rice spilling out, seaweed torn. A half-dozen brightly colored snack bags that Rumi had pulled from the cupboards earlier now lay scattered in complete disarray, some burst open and leaking their contents. Then Mira’s eyes tracked the slow, glistening spread of liquid crawling across the ground. A broken bottle of soju lay on its side, the glass split in several sharp edged shards, its sharp scent wafting upward as clear alcohol trickled in rivulets towards the fridge.
But there was no sign of Rumi. It was like she was never there to begin with.
Surely they would have heard Rumi run off, right?
Mira’s stomach dropped like a stone, heavy and jagged with anxiety and the hairs stood on the back of her neck with needle-like pricks.
Zoey reached Mira’s side, her eyes wide, lips pressed tight. They exchanged a single look—worry etched in every line of their faces—before the unspoken decision passed between them. They moved.
“Rumi!” Mira called, her voice sharper now, cutting through the apartment as she practically sprinted out of the kitchen. Her voice carried louder than she intended, echoing off the walls, the sound of her own panic thrown back at her. The silence that answered was deafening.
Where is she?
What the hell happened?
Is she hurt? If she is, why didn’t she say anything?
Did a demon—no, no, they were safe here. Weren’t they? They would have felt it in the Honmoon if a demon passed through. There’s no way that could have happened so soon after they had just sealed the damn thing.
[Small reminder, my snippets are posted before my beta reads through the fic, meaning there may be some alterations in them when the official chapter is posted]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 2: Ghost Stories
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Kpop Demon Hunters
Relationships: Rumi X Mira X Zoey
Chapter Summary: Zoey and Mira are blindly following leads now as they start their journey to hunt down this siren. A group of terrified women recalls their encounter with the monster, with one who seemingly knows more than the rest.
Afternoon had broken the sky in a blaze of gold, bright and brilliant, the sun spilling its light across the horizon as though casting nets of fire across the sea. The ocean glittered, each crest of a wave flashing silver-white before collapsing into frothing caps that raced toward the shoreline. The rhythm of the tide seemed endless and steady, a living breath that bound the land to the water. The air was thick with salt, sand, and fish, the scents carried on a lively breeze that swept in from the sea, brushing across the cobblestones and rooftops. Overhead, gulls shrieked their laughter as they dove for scraps, while spoonbills croaked in their low, throaty tones as they wheeled lazily above the harbor.
Mira and Zoey walked side by side, their boots crunching against the sand-dusted cobblestone of Incheon’s streets.The village had come alive with the sun, streets busy with merchants who called out their wares, stalls draped in vibrant cloth, the air buzzing with barter and coin. A man shouted the price of ginger as he waved a wooden scoop high above his head, while a woman spread silk gowns of crimson and violet across a line strung between two beams. The clatter of jewelry chimed faintly as golden hairpins caught the light. Everywhere they turned there was movement—children darting between carts, dogs snapping at fish bones, men tugging crates toward the docks.
Zoey’s stomach gave a loud, traitorous growl as the scents of food rolled thick in the air, hitting her in the face. Kimchi, sharp and pungent. Pork belly sizzling over coals, fat dripping into the flames. Stews that simmered in deep clay pots, their spices so rich they seemed to cling to the throat with every breath. And above all, the irresistible and briny perfume of freshly grilled seafood—octopus, mackerel, shrimp, and clams still steaming in their shells.
Her mouth watered, and she slowed just enough to glance pleadingly at Mira with round brown eyes. “Can we at least get some breakfast?” she whispered, half whining though her gaze was hopeful. “We’ve been riding since sunrise. I don’t think I can smell this and survive.”
They had ridden hard from Seoul to Incheon that morning, hours on horseback over rutted roads at a steady pace without stopping. Now it was high noon and Zoey’s body ached with exhaustion, hunger gnawing at her every step. She rubbed her thighs, sore from hours in the saddle.
“Please—just a bite?”
But Mira’s answer came sharp and firm as her jaw locked. “No.”
Zoey’s hopeful look crumbled.
The word carried more bite than she intended. Mira was starving too, but her pride—and her irritation—burned hotter than her hunger. Bile rose in her throat as she thought about their captain. That bastard had tossed them out of Seoul with nothing more than a pair of heavy coin purses, the cursed sketch of that monster, a crumpled map, and a vague promise that a ship would await them in Incheon. No escort, no briefing, no plan. Just orders. He had practically washed his hands of the affair. Mira could almost see his smug grin even now.
Mira scoffed inwardly, the sound bitter in her chest. A woman like her—trained, lethal, efficient, with a reputation carved in blood—reduced to chasing whispers of a creature that didn’t exist when there was nothing out there but the sea. What a ridiculous waste of her skill.
Zoey didn’t need to ask what Mira was thinking; she could read her like a book. The scowl etched across the older woman’s face said everything. She sighed softly, wanting nothing more than to hold Mira’s hand, to help ease the storm that grew in Mira’s head… But the busy streets meant eyes everywhere. Even so, she wanted to offer something at least.
She quickened her step until their shoulders barely brushed, closing the space between them. Without a word, Zoey slipped one of her bronze rings off of her index finger and pressed the band into Mira’s palm. Her own hand lingered in Mira’s for a moment, just long enough for the warmth to pass between them. A silent reassurance, soft and steady, before Zoey withdrew.
Mira cast a sideways glance, her scowl softening and her cheeks flushing. The heat rose to her skin faster than she could stop it. She curled her fingers tight around the ring, hiding the gesture as though it were a secret between them and no one else. A smile ghosted across her lips, tender and fleeting as she slid it onto her smallest finger. For a moment, Mira wanted nothing more than to catch Zoey’s face in her hands, to kiss Zoey until the streets around them disappeared.
Gods, Mira loved Zoey. She loved this woman more than sunrises painted in rose and gold, more than the sweet burn of soju on her tongue, more than the crisp bite of the first frost in winter. More than—more than life itself. And in the madness of their world, Mira counted herself blessed beyond measure to have found someone who loved her back with equal fire.
The thought settled deep in her chest, heavy but grounding, as they continued through the chaos of the port.
The pair kept walking until they reached the edge of the marketplace, where the road sloped toward the water and ended at a sagging chogajip. The building’s thatched roof had partially collapsed, its wooden frame weathered and leaning. Mira pulled the crumpled map from her sash, glanced at the fading ink, and then at the decrepit building before them. Mira sighed, muttering under her breath.
“This is it.” Bitterness bit at her words. The only lead the captain had given them was the building he had his female crew living in. Mira had seen how he lodged his male crew in taverns and brothels that were warm and inviting. While it didn’t surprise her to see how poorly the women were treated, the unfairness of it all fueled the growing flame of resentment towards their employer that burned in her stomach.
Zoey placed a gentle hand on Mira’s shoulder before stepping towards the door. She rapped her knuckles against the rotting wood in a particular rhythm—three rapid knocks, a pause, then two more, slower. The signal of their trade, one smuggler to another. A long silence stretched, heavy enough that Zoey shifted uneasily on her feet. Then, slowly, the door creaked inward.
A woman stood in the door frame, clad in a once-white jeogori and pale blue chima. Her posture was tense and her face hollow. Her expression was marked by the shadow of sleepless nights. Whatever horrors the woman had witnessed visibly weighed her down and she carried them like stones in her chest. Her eyes moved over Mira and Zoey with practiced caution, lingering on the weapons at their sides before lifting to meet their gazes, recognition flickering in her eyes despite the fact the two had never seen her before.
“Oh. He sent you two.” Her voice was brittle, frayed at the edges. “What do you want?”
Zoey stepped forward with a soft and reassuring expression. She had always been the one to speak first in situations like this. Zoey’s kindness and her gentle cadence coaxed people into lowering their walls until their secrets spilled out freely. That was a gift of hers, making people believe she meant no harm. In some ways, that made Zoey more deadly than Mira. In this instance, though, Zoey genuinely had no intention of causing harm.
Mira stayed back, arms crossed and eyes attentive. She knew her role in this. If Zoey was a dove, gentle and soothing, Mira was a hammer, blunt and forceful. It wasn’t her place to coax. Her job was to intimidate answers out of stubborn brutes, verbally and physically.
“We heard about what happened,” Zoey said softly, her voice carrying a kind of grief that was easy to believe as she bowed her head slightly. “What you and your sisters endured on your way up from Gunsan, no one should have to see what you all saw.”
The woman visibly went rigid at Zoey’s words, her breath catching in her throat. Her dark eyes were hard, not out of anger or upset, but a reflection of the mental torment she was actively trying to repress. She folded her arms against her body and took a small step back into the dim interior.
“...Thank you,” she said finally, her voice terse, clipped, almost hollow. She dipped her head once in acknowledgment, but her eyes flicked between them with a kind of knowing. “But I know you’re not here just to offer condolences. He sent you.”
Zoey gave a soft nod.
“Yes,” She admitted gently, voice calm and measured, her hands folded in front of her. “We were sent to hunt down the creature that caused this mess, but we need your help. Any details or clues you can give us, whatever you can share, would be of great help.” Zoey’s doe eyes and sweet tone worked in tandem to convey her sincerity.
The woman studied Zoey for a long moment, then flicked her gaze to Mira, who stood straight-backed and unreadable beside her. Those weary eyes lingering for a moment as though weighing their worth. The look on her face twisted in conflict—torn between keeping her crew safe by shutting Zoey and Mira out or giving the pair the very story that might break them all over again. Silence stretched taut for several heartbeats before she sighed, her shoulders sagging with the weight of the decision.
“Most here… will not want to speak of it,” she said lowly, voice gravel-rough with exhaustion. “The things we saw…” Her throat tightened, and she shook her head. “We are not women easily frightened, but…” She hesitated, then stepped back and motioned them inside with a weary hand.
Mira and Zoey exchanged a quick glance before following her lead, ducking under the warped beam of the doorway. The space was smaller than they expected, and the inside was scented with the faint smell of damp reeds and smoke that clung stubbornly to the rafters. The space was dimly lit by a few lanterns that gently swayed above them. A small cluster of women sat on the floor in uneven circles, their postures tense, eyes lifting warily at the intruders. Suspicion flickered across their faces like shadows.
Mira and Zoey bowed respectfully, lowering their heads and hands, a show of humility. Their hands stayed visible at their sides, offering no hint of a threat. When they straightened, they introduced themselves in turn, voices soft and deliberate.
The woman who had opened the door—their leader by the looks of it—cleared her throat as she stepped forward before she straightened her back and announced with a terse tone. “They are here to ask about… what happened.”
Her words fell like stones into the small space, and in their wake, silence descended. No one moved. Some women dropped their gazes to the floor, while others stared straight ahead, faces frozen in blank masks. A few pressed trembling hands against their knees, as if grounding themselves, their fear barely contained.
Mira and Zoey exchanged a glance. Whatever had happened here had cut deep, carving something raw into these women’s bones.
It was then that one woman stood. She was close to Mira and Zoey’s age, her steps quick but her bow deep, as though social protocol were the only thing holding her upright. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her nerves.
“I am Kyung.” Her voice shook as she tried to force a determined edge to it, though her back remained straight. She drew in a deep breath, collecting herself, her hands clenched together, and began.
“It was… at sunset,” she said, words dragging like stones. “One of our scouts—” she gestured with a tilt of her head toward a younger woman with twin braids seated near the corner, the scout. The girl’s eyes flickered down, her hands clenched in her lap. “Spotted something in the water first, the wreckage. At first, it was only the sails—torn, drifting. Then parts of the hull-”
Kyung trailed off, looking at the younger woman again, eyes weighed down with sympathy, the scout’s chin dipped almost imperceptibly, and her lips pressed together, trembling.
Mira felt her shoulders stiffen. She didn’t need words. She’d read enough in the girl’s haunted eyes. It meant the poor thing had seen the bodies before anyone else.
Kyung’s lips pressed tight before she continued. “The smell of death reached us long before we saw them. Bodies… some clinging to wreckage, others drifting. Some we could recognize from the fleet, men we had worked with before, but others—” She shuddered, her words faltering. “Others… were too mangled beyond recognition. And the rest…” her eyes lowered as she clenched her fists at her side, knuckles whitening. “The rest must still be beneath the sea.”
Zoey felt her chest tighten, her heart breaking for the women who found the aftermath of a massacre and the men whose last moments alive would be living through the slaughter.
“We… we pulled up the ones we could,” Kyung said, the words tumbling out faster, as though saying them quickly would make them less sharp. “We couldn’t just leave them; we had to bring them home. So their families could… so they could be buried. So they would not be left to rot in the waves.” Her voice broke on her last words.
Mira felt her stomach turn, a cold weight settling in the pit of her gut, sour bile creeping into her throat. Zoey and her had seen their fair share of corpses. She’d seen countless bodies, countless faces she did not bother to memorize, the light fading from their eyes by her hands and left to rot. They slipped blades into throats and walked away before the blood cooled. Mira learned not to think of them after, not to imagine the families or friends waiting for them to come home. She had to stop caring, or she would have broken long ago. Death had become a tool, a tally, a weight they’d learned to carry without thought. But this woman—these women—weren’t killers hardened to the sight of death.
Hearing the tremor in Kyung’s voice, watching her fight back tears—Mira remembered her own first body, the way it had gutted her, left her sleepless for nights. How it haunted her, before she’d hardened into stone.
Zoey, meanwhile, had already moved to Kyung’s side, drawn by instinct. Her hand was resting gently on her shoulder, thumb brushing in hopes of offering any sort of comfort. Her eyes flicked toward Mira briefly. They both thought the same thing: The first time each of them had seen death, when innocence had been stripped away in one brutal moment.
Kyung drew in a shaky breath, gathering what resolve she had left. “That was when we saw her– While we were gathering the dead.”
The air in the room tightened, the other women instinctively drawing closer to one another.
“A woman… At least that’s what it looked like, was out in the water some distance from us, a cloud of red all around her,” Kyung whispered, as if speaking of the creature aloud might summon it. “She had scaly skin and pointed teeth, venom oozing from her mouth. Viscera and shredded cloth clung to her claws. It looked like she had just finished eating one of the sailors. She was just watching us with her soulless eyes.”
Around the room, the others nodded, some muttering half-formed prayers under their breath, others squeezing their eyes shut as if to banish the memory. Their agreement was unanimous. They had all seen it.
Zoey could see the doubt flicker across Mira’s uncertain face, the faint crease between her brows, the way her lips pressed into a thin, skeptical line. Mira didn’t need to speak; her expression alone told Zoey she thought the story was nothing more than fever-born tales. Truthfully, Zoey herself wasn’t sure what to believe. But she knew something terrible had happened here. The trauma written in every woman’s eyes—something was real in all this horror, whether or not it was the creature they claimed to have seen.
Zoey cleared her throat and began to speak. Her voice was calm, carefully measured. “Did anyone… see her up close?”
Kyung, still standing before them, shook her head—then paused mid-motion, her eyes darting to the back of the room. She corrected herself with a hesitant nod. “Yes. Sook did,” Her voice faltered for a moment, her gaze shifting to a girl tucked behind an older woman with dark silver hair. The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen, her shoulders curled forward like she wished to vanish under everyone’s scrutiny. After a moment’s hesitation, Sook gave the faintest nod.
The older woman before her let out a scoff, sharp and bitter. Her voice cracked the heavy silence. “I caught that demon reaching for the child’s hand. If I hadn’t dragged Sook back, she’d be at the bottom of the sea,” Her voice cracked with conviction, as though daring anyone to challenge her as she tilted her head towards Sook.
Sook flinched at the older woman’s tone but lifted her head just enough to glare at her elder. The look didn’t last long, however, and her gaze dropped quickly back to the floor.
Mira’s brow arched, arms folding as she stepped forward. “Is that so? We were under the impression that this sea beast doesn’t harm women.”
The older woman let out a ragged chuckle, clicking her tongue as she shook her head in disbelief. “Ha. I saw it. Don’t tell me otherwise. If I hadn’t grabbed her back, she’d be gone. That thing wanted her. It nearly had her.” She tilted her head toward the girl, her tone dripping disdain. “That creature wants all of us dead.”
Sook’s small voice piped up, fragile but stubborn. “She didn’t try to drown me!”
The older woman whipped her head around to look at Sook, giving the girl a sharp whap to the knee. “Don’t be foolish, child. That creature had you under her spell, filling your head with sweet songs of trust and kindness; that’s how they lure you in. Soft, naïve girls like you are easy prey.”
The girl’s face twisted in defiance, her mouth opened as if she wanted to argue further, but she caught herself. Sook sealed her lips tight, swallowing down her words, cheeks flushed with restrained frustration.
Zoey’s keen eyes lingered on Sook. She could tell there was an overflow of unspoken words bubbling behind the girl’s bitten lip, something the older woman wouldn’t allow out. The elder’s grip on her was heavy, literally and metaphorically, ensuring that the girl’s voice would never be her own. Zoey’s curiosity rose like a tide. If only they could get Sook alone…
Mira let out a long sigh, her eyebrows stitching together as she glanced out the window. She could practically feel the day slipping from her grasp with every passing story, every hushed agreement, every tear-stained memory. This had proven to be less than helpful; to her, this was nothing but a circle of frightened women clinging to nightmares, in which none had provided any useful information. They were right back where they started, chasing whispers while daylight was wasted. It was time to go.
The assassin cleared her throat and, with a curt bow, she muttered, “Thank you for your time. We’ve heard enough.”
Mira turned briskly, making her way to the door. When she did not hear her companion’s bootsteps following her, she glanced over her shoulder and caught Zoey lingering. Mira’s eyebrow lifted in a silent question.
Zoey smiled faintly, reassuring, “I’ll be right out.”
Mira’s sigh was sharp, but she left without pressing, stepping out into the blinding daylight. The noise of the street rushed over her as fast as the heat—vendors shouting, carts rolling, hooves clattering against stone. Just the clamor of an ordinary village going about its day.
A few minutes later, Zoey slipped from the dim room as well—this time not alone. The young girl, Sook, hurried at her side, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. Zoey tilted her head toward a narrow alley just off the road. Mira, waiting on the stone path, caught the signal instantly and followed.
The alley was a sliver of shadow wedged between two leaning hanoks, walls close enough that all three of them had to shift sideways to fit. Damp air clung to the stone walls, smelling faintly of rot and seaweed that had been tracked up from the shore. Overhead, the sky narrowed to a tight ribbon, bright sunlight cutting like a blade across the darkness of the passage. The hum of the street dulled to a muffled murmur, the only sound their own shuffling feet and the distant caw of gulls.
Mira crossed her arms, leaning back slightly against one wall, her eyes narrowing at Zoey, then flicked towards the girl. “What’s she doing here? We don’t have time to babysit.”
“Sook here,” Zoey started with a pointed look at Mira, “she was kind enough to be our guide through the city.” She tapped the noticeably lighter coin purse at her hip before Zoey’s expression softened and she crouched a little to meet the girl’s eye. “I know you had more you wanted to say back there, whatever it was you truly saw, we need to know.” She gave Sook a soft smile, one hand brushing down her arm in reassurance. “You’re safe with us.”
Sook fidgeted nervously, tugging at the frayed hem of her sleeve, shifting from one foot to the other. Her eyes darted toward the mouth of the alley as though expecting to be dragged back inside at any moment.
Mira, for once, let her expression soften. She stepped sideways, deliberately placing herself so that Sook was hidden from the view of anyone passing by. Her dark gaze stayed fixed on the girl, expectant but patient. “Go on, tell us what you saw.”
Sook dipped her head in a small, grateful nod. Her voice broke into a whisper. “I don’t think she was going to kill me.”
Zoey’s brows arched, curiosity brightening her face. Mira’s mouth twitched, her expression unreadable, but her attention sharpened.
The young girl continued quickly, her voice gaining a tremor of conviction. “She wasn’t a monster—not like they say anyway.” A small smile spread across Sook’s face, her eyes softening as she recalled the encounter like a fond memory. “Her eyes were kind. If anything, she seemed more curious than cruel. She looked… soft. Gentle even. Not what some demon of the deep is supposed to look like.”
Mira’s mouth tugged into a thin line, her head tilting slightly as she watched the girl speak, her thoughts racing. She still couldn’t wrap her head around this whole situation, this fable all these women claimed to have seen… just seemed, well impossible. Mira was never one to believe in fairytales. Even as a child, she only believed what she could see, what she could touch. However, even one as stoic as her couldn’t help but be slightly affected by the stories from those traumatized women. This uncertainty, this not knowing, was deeply uncomfortable, and Mira hated it.
Mira’s jaw tightened as her skepticism sharpened again. “Or maybe that was just a trick, hm? Like that old bag said, it might have just been something to make you lower your guard.”
“Mira!” Zoey shot Mira a sharp look, an unspoken scolding telling her to mind her tongue. Mira only lifted a brow in return and shrugged nonchalantly.
But Sook shook her head firmly, chin lifting with surprising defiance. “Because I know the difference. I’m not some helpless kid,” She glanced between Zoey and Mira, her gaze pointed, steady. “I’ve seen enough people stab someone in the back with a smile on their face to know when kindness is fake. You of all people should understand that.”
That struck them both silent. Mira and Zoey exchanged a glance, and Mira gave a small shrug that said ‘she has a point’. Zoey’s lips curled into a faint smile as she let out a soft chuckle, nodding at Sook.
“Fair point.” Zoey crossed her arms and shifted on her foot. “Alright, what else have you got?”
As the girl spoke again, her voice rose with awe, tinged with excitement. “She was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Long dark purple hair, with all these pearls in it. She had these shimmering iridescent scales along her cheeks, then these dark purple patterns that ran across her skin. And her eyes…” Sook’s face brightened at the memory. “So gold they were brighter than the king’s coin.”
Zoey’s expression softened, the corner of her lips twitching upward. “You make her sound like something straight out of a fairytale.”
Mira scoffed. “A deadly one, maybe.”
Sook scowled faintly at her, her fists balling at her sides with a huff. “Believe what you want, but she wasn’t what they said. I don’t think she’s the monster they’re making her out to be.”
Mira arched her brow. “Funny. Weren’t there dead bodies floating all around her?”
Sook’s lips pressed into a thin line before she shrugged unapologetically. “They probably deserved it.”
Mira looked at her, shocked for a moment before her lips broke into a smirk. “Hmm, I like you.”
Sook beamed.
Zoey let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she slipped a map from her belt, untying the string with nimble fingers before she unrolled it. “Can you show us where you saw her?”
The girl nodded eagerly, gently taking the map from Zoey’s hands, and looking at the woman expectantly. A long moment passed before Mira huffed.
“What?” Mira asked.
“I don’t have anything to write with,” Sook said, stating the obvious.
Mira looked over at Zoey with fond exasperation. Zoey returned the look with a blank expression and head tilted in confusion for a heartbeat before she registered what Sook had said.
“Ah!” Zoey’s hands fumbled at the small pouches attached to her belt, cheeks colouring faintly at Mira’s amused glance. She dipped her hand into a pouch before pulling free a stick of charcoal and passed it over to Sook quickly.
The two women watched as Sook crouched onto the ground and scribbled a circle onto the parchment. Zoey leaned closer, brows knitting in surprise. The mark was farther out than they expected near the edge of Gyeonggi Bay. Stranger still, just above the circle, the girl drew a lopsided, lumpy shape.
Mira leaned in over Zoey’s shoulder, sharing her frown. She tapped the shape. “And what’s this supposed to be?”
The girl wrung her wrists, biting her lip. “It’ll sound crazy. But… there was an island there. I saw it on the horizon. It had three tall peaks. I’ve never seen it before.”
Zoey tilted her head, considering the idea. “An uncharted island?” The thought tasted uneasy on her tongue. An uncharted island was possible—whispers of undiscovered islets had long circled among travellers. Still, the thought of setting foot on a place unknown, untouched, sent a shiver crawling along her spine. “There are rumors of islands out there still undiscovered, but if you’re right… stepping onto one we know nothing about could be dangerous.”
“Do you know anyone who might know about this island?” Mira asked, eyes narrowing as she studied the map.
Before Sook could answer, a commotion rose from the front of the chogajip. The sharp, scolding voice of the old woman echoed down the street: calling Sook’s name.
The girl’s eyes widened in alarm. “I have to go.” Sook shoved the charcoal back into Zoey’s hand and darted past Mira toward the alley’s mouth. But before she vanished, she paused just long enough to throw a quick look over her shoulder. “Check the Blue Tiger, on the west side of town. There is a group of men there who know the bay better than anyone. They might tell you.” Then she was gone, swallowed by the noise of the street.
Mira and Zoey stood in silence for a beat, staring after her before their eyes dropped back to the map.
“Of course, the captain would give us shit information,” Mira muttered darkly, annoyance in her voice. “He said twenty clicks from shore. This—” She tapped the marked spot on the parchment. “This is much farther. We’re gonna need a much larger vessel to survive the waves!” Her thumb rubbed anxiously over the bronze ring on her finger, the metal warm against her skin. “What an idiot…”
Zoey bit her lip anxiously. “Maybe… maybe it was just miscommunication. Or maybe the survivors were too shaken to remember properly.”
With a sigh, Mira rolled the map tight and tucked it back into Zoey’s belt. “Either way, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s head for this Blue Tiger.”
Her companion brightened instantly, clasping her hands together. “Can we please get food on the way there? I swear I’m going to die if I don’t eat soon.”
Mira couldn’t help but smile, brushing her knuckles playfully against Zoey’s arm. She couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes. Nor the rumbling in her own stomach. “Yeah, you can get as much food as you want, babe. My treat.”
The younger woman caught Mira’s wrist gently, giving it a squeeze of thanks, before she practically skipped toward the alley’s end—only to stumble back with a startled gasp. Mira’s instincts flared sharply. She looked up to see that Zoey had collided with a woman.
Zoey gasped, bowing in apology, grasping the stranger by the elbow to help her back to her feet. “I—I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—”
The woman yanked her arm free, brushing herself off with a scowl. “Unhand me! You’ve done quite enough already.” Her voice was low, sharp.
Zoey shrank back, muttering another apology. Mira stepped forward at once, her presence bristling with protective anger. She took in the stranger—taller than her by a few inches, slender but honed, muscles beneath the lines of her body despite her age. She had a waterfall of raven hair with a bold silver streak that framed a face of sharp angles. The stranger’s vulpine eyes burned with sharp displeasure, searing right through them.
That look—the way she studied them, like predators circling prey—made Mira’s chest tighten. She didn’t like this woman. Not one bit. She stepped subtly in front of Zoey, shoulders squared, fingers readying near the hilt of her sword.
For a long moment, the woman only stared, gaze searing into them almost accusingly for a crime they didn’t know they had committed just yet. Then she straightened, cloak billowing around her body to conceal her in shadow. Then with a final glare muttered, “Watch your step.” Without another word, she disappeared into the throng of people.
Zoey let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her voice small. “I’m sorry…”
Mira looked down at her, her scowl easing into a sideways smile as she laid a hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. It was just an accident. That woman’s just some angry old bag who woke up on the wrong side of her bed.” She gave Zoey a light push on the back, guiding her forward. “Now come on. Let’s get you fed.”
Zoey brightened immediately, practically bouncing and starting to ramble giddily, her laughter mingling with the hum of the street. She began to chatter about all the food they had seen earlier, making exaggerated sighs of longing.
But Mira’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.. She could feel it still—prickling heat at the back of her neck. She didn’t need to turn around to know—somewhere in the crowd of people, deep in the shadows, stalking them like prey… those foxlike eyes were still watching them.
[Howdy hey!
So earlier, I did explain that this chapter was going to be late due to a mild medical emergency. There are two pluses and a negative to this. First plus. I'm fine, which is a huge win in my books. Second plus, I can now write what it feels like to have something rupture inside the body, should that ever be something I actually need to write. The negative? I had something rupture inside of my body and it hurt a lot :( oh and I got bronchitis afterwards but who needs lungs!
The next chapter is going to be entirely from Rumi's point of view, you're going to learn a little bit more about what her deal is before she finally meets up with Zoey and Mira at the Blue Tiger, along with another group of familiar faces.
Hope y'all are hungry for some Rumi under the sea action!
Toodles]
Rumi began to shift, trying to sit up, but Mira’s arms resisted for a moment—like letting go wasn’t an option. It wasn’t until Rumi wriggled insistently that Mira’s grip slackened, and Rumi slipped free, turning to face her. Carefully, Rumi lifted her hand and cupped Mira’s cheek. The dancer’s skin was warm, her face slack with exhaustion.
“You didn’t, did you?” The singer’s voice was soft, but the worry poured through.
Mira didn’t answer, not really. She just leaned into Rumi’s palm, her whole weight collapsing against that one small gesture. Rumi could feel the full weight of Mira’s head in her hand as if she was going to fall asleep right then and there. Rumi’s eyes flicked toward the clock on the wall. 4:03 a.m.
Rumi felt her stomach twist.
God, Mira’s been awake for nine hours… Maybe more.
Rumi wasn’t sure if Mira had gotten any sleep when she had gotten her call from Celine, she herself had passed out from the emotional rollercoaster that came after. By the looks of it, whether Mira had slept or not, it clearly wasn’t enough.
She opened her mouth, about to suggest Mira sleep, but Mira straightened suddenly, stretching her arms with another yawn. “You want some breakfast, Rums?”
The casualness of it stunned Rumi for a moment.
Rumi blinked. “What? No! Mira, you need—”
Her stomach growled loudly at the thought of breakfast, betraying her. Rumi froze, glaring down at it in dismay.
Traitor.
[Howdy hey little reminder as per usual that my snippets may or may not change once the official chapter is posted, toodles]
She stood outside the bathroom door, the cool wooden floor beneath her bare feet grounding her impatience. She strained ears searching for movement, for anything, but there was nothing. The silence that answered her was heavy, suffocating almost. Her foot tapped restlessly against the floor, jaw tightening.
The maknae shifted with unease, arms crossing tight over her chest as she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. Her knuckles rapped against the wood a second time—firmer, sharper. “Come on, Mira. It’s just me. Open the door.”
Finally, muffled words bled through the wood, low and rough. There was an edge to it, but Zoey could tell immediately it wasn’t anger. It was exhaustion, thick and dragging, strained like every word cost Mira something.
“I said I’m fine, Zoey. Just… go eat breakfast.”
Zoey froze. Her brows pinched together, arms folding across her chest as if Mira could see the glare she was directing straight through the wood.
“I already ate breakfast.” Zoey shot back, her voice carrying a stubborn edge. “That's how long you’ve been in there.” She let out a sigh that felt too heavy for her small frame as she deflated. “Come on, Mir… that burn looked pretty bad. Do you need help? Or—” she faltered, lips pressing together before she blurted it out, “a doctor maybe?”
Her voice cracked at the end, the stutter betraying just how worried she was.
There was a pause. Then the muffled voice came again, sharp and stubborn. “Zoey, what part of ‘I’m fine’ don’t you understand?”
That did it.
Zoey’s stomach flipped as something hot and jagged crawled up her spine and for a moment, she thought she might explode. Not at Mira exactly, but at the blatant lie Mira was feeding her and the irritating stubbornness in Mira’s tone. After everything that had happened last night, after all the secrets and apologies they had set free, Mira was shutting her out.
With a long sigh, Zoey stepped closer until she was nearly pressed to the door so her voice, low but sharp as steel, carried into the cramped space on the other side. “We both know that’s a straight-up lie, Mira. Now you open this door or so help me, I will kick it down."
And she meant every word.
She’d done it before. Plenty of times, and Mira damn well knew it. Which was probably why Zoey’s sharp ears caught the sound of movement on the other side—shuffling feet, a quiet exhale, and then the faint scrape of the lock turning.
[Reminder that there is a chance my snippets will change a bit once the official chapter is posted]
The man let out a long, weighted sigh. His hand reached beneath the mess of papers, pulling free the sheet that had been half-buried. He laid it flat on the desk, his thick finger tapping the rough charcoal sketch with a sound that echoed in the dim silence.
“You’re here,” The Captain said, voice low and deliberate, “to deal with that.”
The drawing was crude but unsettling—something human, yet not. The creature’s eyes were narrow, snake-like slits that glared out from the page. Its mouth stretched too wide, lined with jagged fangs that seemed to glisten even in smudged black charcoal. Finned ears sprouted from the sides of its face, scales and stripes crept along its skin in jagged patterns. The hands—if they could be called that—ended in claws. Above it all, a mane of wild, tangled hair framed the monstrous face.
Zoey’s stomach twisted.
Mira only scoffed. She leaned back on her heels, folding her arms across her chest, her lip curling in disdain. “A siren? You dragged us out here to gawk at bedtime stories?” She shook her head with a laugh that carried no humor. “Come on, cap. Sirens are nothing more than tales you tell kids to keep them from wandering too close to the shore. Or the kind of nonsense you feed new sailors to spook them.”
Zoey’s brows pinched together. Her voice was cautious, softer, but sharp enough to pierce the tension. “If there haven’t been any survivors… how would anyone even know what was responsible?”
The captain’s gaze darkened. He leaned over the desk, shadow swallowing the women as he spoke. “Because it’s only our ships being attacked.” His voice was heavy with certainty. “Trade ships. Cargo. Warships. All ours. Except…” He paused, letting the silence drag until the air seemed to buzz. “Except for one.”
Zoey felt the hair rise on her arms. Though Mira on the other hand only raised an eyebrow, interest peaked but not amused.
The captain went on. “A ship carrying medicine out of Gusan set to arrive here at our very shores. Crew of twenty. Women only.” His eyes lingered deliberately on Mira and Zoey. His scarred face softened into something grim, knowing. “They arrived too late. The water was painted red, and what was left of the crew had been scattered across the wreckage. Torn apart.”
His hand lifted again, jabbing the sketch. “And that’s where they saw her."
