Chapter Text
Rumi waited until the penthouse settled into its familiar evening hush—the hum of the fridge, Mira’s soft music bleeding through her headphones as she cooked, Zoey’s laughter fading into freestyle rapping as she disappeared into the shower.
Then Rumi smiled, just a little, the tips of her fangs catching the light.
She had an important errand to do while they were both distracted.
Mira’s jewelry box was already open. Rumi had opened it earlier. She sifted carefully, reverently, through rings and necklaces, humming under her breath. She didn’t take the important ones. She never did. Just a thin silver bracelet, a loose earring that had lost its pair, a charm shaped like a crescent moon. She held each up to the light, tilting her head like a bird assessing treasure.
“Pretty,” she murmured, and slipped them into the pocket of her oversized hoodie, already weighted with treasures.
Zoey’s room was next. Rumi knew the squeaky floorboard to avoid, stepping over it with practiced ease. Zoey was less organized; her jewelry spilled across a dresser like a bomb had gone off. Rumi’s fingers itched. She picked up a glittering hairpin, a chipped but reflective stone Zoey had bought weeks ago, and oh—there, a cheap gold necklace that caught the light just right.
Rumi’s breath hitched in quiet delight.
On her way back to the living room, she couldn’t help herself. A bottle cap glinting near the trash. A bent coin under the couch. The foil seal from a juice bottle, smoothed flat and shining on the counter. She gathered them all, cradling the collection to her chest like something precious.
She hid them in her bed since they sleep in the closet now.
(Zoey still makes puns about being in the closet after growing up to come out of the closet.)
~
Rumi’s bed was mostly decorative.
It stayed made—mostly—blanket smoothed flat but the pillows were usually thrown on it randomly. Laundry was usually stacked on it with a military precision along with the occasional book.
So it took a while.
Mira was the one who finally went to strip the sheets, arms full of clean linen, muttering about how bed bugs when the mattress made a strange, unmistakable—
Thunk.
She froze.
Then sighed deeply.
“Zoey? Rumi?” She called out to her partners with exasperation.
Only one appeared in the doorway.
Zoey.
“What’s cooking good looking?” Zoey danced into the room, her phone playing music.
American music.
Mira scoffed but ignored the song and lifted the corner of the fitted sheet.
Rocks spilled out.
Not just a few—dozens of them. Smooth river stones, glittering fragments of quartz, bits of glass worn soft and milky. They rolled across the mattress, knocking gently into something metal. A necklace slid into view. Then a ring. Then three of Zoey’s earrings, all tangled together like they’d been sleeping there a long time.
“Why does Rumi’s bed sound like a beach gift shop?” Zoey stared.
They peeled the rest of the bedding back.
The hoard revealed itself.
Jewelry nestled into the mattress seams, tucked beneath the pillow, layered carefully among stones like eggs in a nest. Mira recognized nearly everything—her silver bracelet, Zoey’s favorite necklace, a hairpin that had been missing for months, and many of her rings. Between them were rocks, mostly rocks, chosen for their shine, their smoothness, the way they caught light even in the dim room.
There were so many.
Mira reached out, fingertips brushing against a polished stone the color of Zoey’s eyes—
The bed growled.
Not loud.
More like a low, vibrating sound that rattled faintly in their bones.
Both of them shrieked.
Mira fell backward, Zoey scrambling away as something shifted beneath the bed. Two reflective eyes opened in the dark, catching the light like a startled animal’s. A shape unfolded—too many joints, a flick of something tail-like, and the scrape of claws against wood.
It was Rumi.
Rumi slid out from under the bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs, hair wild, fangs bared on pure instinct. She froze halfway out, realizing she’d been discovered, and immediately looked…
Mortified.
“Sorry…I was sleeping,” she muttered.
“Rumi! You can’t just live under furniture like a cryptid!” Zoey clutched her chest.
Rumi shrank a little. “It’s quieter. And the hoard stays warm.”
“The—hoard?” Mira blinked. “Are you always here sleeping when we can’t find you?”
Rumi glanced back under the bed, then at the jewelry scattered among the rocks. Her shoulders slumped. “Of course, I was watching it. I need to make sure it stays safe.”
“So you did take our stuff,” Zoey said, though she was already smiling.
Rumi scowled, “It’s our stuff. Mostly mine. It’s been in my custody longer than yours.”
Then she clicked her tongue at them. “You moved them.” Her eyes narrowed, not in anger, just mildly inconvenienced.
“I lifted the sheet.” Mira scoffed. “I didn’t do shit.”
Rumi simply dropped to her knees beside the bed. Rocks clinked softly as she began rearranging them, sliding stones into new clusters, nudging jewelry back into precise positions. She hummed, low and distracted, fangs flashing when she leaned back to assess her work.
Zoey watched, fascinated. “You know,” she said slowly, “this is exactly how crows act.”
Rumi paused, one hand resting on a particularly shiny rock. “…They’re smart.”
“That’s not a denial,” Zoey said, grinning.
Rumi resumed sorting, clearly taking that as a compliment. She swapped two stones, then placed Zoey’s necklace in the center like a focal point, surrounding it with the shiniest rocks she had and Mira’s rings.
Mira crossed her arms. “Rumi.”
“Mm?”
“When am I allowed to change the sheets?”
Rumi froze. Slowly, she looked up, eyes wide and faintly luminous in the low light. “Why would you do that?”
“They need to be washed.”
“But then it won’t smell right,” Rumi said, genuinely distressed. She reached up and patted the underside of the mattress, as if soothing it. “And things might fall.”
Mira sighed, already defeated. “Okay. How about this—tell me when you’re done… guarding the rocks?”
Rumi considered this seriously, then nodded. “I’ll let you know.”
She ducked back under the bed.
Not quietly at all, there were more stones under the bed.
Mira just sighed.
~
A few days passed before Mira finally snapped.
She stood in the doorway of Rumi’s room, arms crossed, staring at the bed like it had personally wronged her. “I would like one of two things,” she announced. “My jewelry back. Or for you to actually sleep with us again.”
From under the bed came a soft, offended hiss.
Mira rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes it’s a good hoard but we miss you.”
From under the bed came a smug little hum.
Zoey, already on the floor, grinned. “She’s proud of it.”
Rumi slid out just enough for her fangs to show in a grin. “It’s a very good hoard.”
Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. “Rumi.”
Zoey reached under the bed and gently nudged a rock with her fingertip. It caught the light and flashed. “Ooo. This one’s new.”
Rumi’s smugness sharpened. “I found that outside the tower.”
Zoey nudged another. Then another. Jewelry glinted between them—Mira’s rings, Zoey’s bracelets, arranged with obsessive care. Rumi preened, clearly enjoying the attention.
“See?” she said. “Organized. Protected.”
Zoey’s fingers drifted deeper. “Is that—?”
Rumi stiffened.
“…Is that cash?” Zoey asked, lifting the edge of a folded bill.
“Nope!”
Rumi shot forward on hands and knees, hands hovering helplessly as Zoey held the money just out of reach.
Mira’s eyes widened. “Rumi. Is that my emergency cash?”
Rumi’s shoulder's scrunched up to her ears“…It was on the dresser.”
“So you stole it.” Zoey laughed, shooting a victorious look at Mira. “Mira’s been blaming me!”
“I relocated it,” Rumi snapped, then immediately panicked. “Put it down. Put it down put it down—”
Zoey teased the bill between her fingers. “What happens if I take it?”
Rumi’s confidence cracked. She wilted, hands twisting around each other. “That’s the center. You can’t take the center.”
Mira knelt, voice gentler now. “Rumi. We miss you. The closet’s empty. And I’d really like my necklace back...and my cash.”
Rumi glanced toward the closet, then back to the bed. Her smug expression faltered. “The den is still there.”
“But you aren’t,” Mira said.
Zoey sighed theatrically and placed the cash back exactly where she’d found it. Rumi visibly sagged with relief, immediately crawling carefully over the bed to re-cover it with stones.
“You can touch the shiny,” Rumi muttered, “Just don’t remove it.”
Zoey smirked. “Dragon rules.”
Rumi didn’t argue.
Mira reached under the bed and carefully retrieved her necklace. Rumi watched, tense but allowing it.
“I’ll come back to the closet,” Rumi said quietly. “Tonight.”
Mira smiled. “Promise?”
Rumi nodded, then added quickly, “But the hoard stays.”
Zoey flopped onto her back, laughing. “Of course it does.”
Later that night, the closet nest was warm again—Rumi curled between them, jewelry returned (mostly), rocks tucked into corners, and the hoard under the bed left undisturbed.
For now.
~
They were once again at Celine’s house.
Rumi padded ahead of Mira and Zoey, practically vibrating in anticipation. Her eyes were bright, scanning the living room for shadows and shine alike.
Mira followed, arms crossed, scowling at Zoey who had already crouched down to inspect the little things skittering along the baseboards. “I swear,” Mira muttered under her breath, “this woman is enabling her.”
Zoey, of course, didn’t hear her—or she chose not to. She knelt beside a large spider perched on the edge of a rug, fingers twitching. “Hey there, little one,” she whispered, wiggling a shiny coin in front of it. The spider paused, lifted two legs, and then cautiously approached.
Mira shuddered and moved away.
Rumi stopped in the middle of the room, crouching slightly as if ready to pounce. “Eomma?” she asked softly.
Celine came into the room. “Little one! I bought something for you.” From a velvet-lined box, she produced a delicate bracelet, glittering in the sunlight. “For your hoard.”
Rumi’s eyes went wide. She approached reverently, reaching out with trembling fingers. “It’s so pretty,” she whispered, carefully lifting the bracelet. She held it to the sunlight, tilting it back and forth like a bird inspecting a shiny seed. “It will look so good with Mira’s rings.”
Zoey clapped her hands quietly, then waved a tiny shard of glass in front of another spider. It skittered forward, inspecting her offering, while Rumi muttered softly to herself about arrangement and placement.
Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. “Enabling,” she muttered again, louder this time. “Absolutely enabling.”
Celine laughed, brushing back Rumi’s hair. “She’s just, indulging her nature. I like seeing her happy.”
Rumi simply purred.
Zoey couldn’t help herself. She leaned closer, whispering to a black-and-brown spider that had just emerged from the baseboard. “Hey, do you like shiny things too?” She lightly rolled a bead across the floor. The spider hesitated, then followed it.
Mira groaned audibly. “Zoey, stop encouraging them.”
“Look at them go!” Zoey whispered, utterly delighted.
Celine smiled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mira. They’re careful little creatures. Rumi taught them well.”
Mira sighed and leaned against the doorway. “I’m just… going to sit over here and hope none of my stuff gets eaten.”
Zoey meanwhile laughed softly, crouching low to watch the spiders create their own hoard of shiny things. “She’s like a queen with her court.”
Rumi glanced up at them, smugness flickering across her face as she added the bracelet to her pocket. A pocket that already held a bottle cap, a shiny rock, and a coin.
Zoey giggled, holding out another bead for the nearest spider to chase.
“Wait a minute,” Mira stepped closer to one of the spiders, (which was still half a room away from her). “Rumi did you tell it to steal my necklace! I’ve been looking for that for years!”
~
She hated being separated from her pack.
The thought came automatically.
Pack.
Her eomma’s presence usually grounded her, Celine’s stoic calm like a wall nothing could get through—except Rumi herself. For her, Celine softened, brushed her hair back, murmured reassurances in a low, steady voice. Mira’s confidence was different—solid, protective. Mira always walked on the outside of the group, shoulders squared, daring the world to try something. Zoey filled the gaps with energy, laughter, constant motion, dragging Rumi forward when she wanted to curl inward. And Bobby… Bobby hovered like an anxious guardian, pretending not to, counting heads, making sure they were all accounted for.
Alone, Rumi felt untethered.
And the emotional ache always turned into a physical ache—her fangs, well gums were sore.
She stood abruptly, padding toward the front door, pressing her ear to it like she might hear their footsteps returning early. Her nose twitched before she could stop herself, searching for familiar scents—Mira’s leather jacket and citrus shampoo, Zoey’s sweet perfume, her mother’s clean, cool presence.
Nothing.
A soft, embarrassed whine slipped from her throat before she caught it. Rumi flushed and covered her mouth, teeth flashing briefly in the dim light. Get it together, she told herself. You’re an idol. You perform in front of thousands.
But stages were safe. Stages were loud. Stages had her pack close enough to touch.
Rumi exhaled shakily, tension draining from her shoulders all at once. Her fangs stopped aching. She slid down to sit on the floor, back against the door, knees pulled up again—but this time, she was smiling.
“Soon,” she murmured to herself, tailbone tingling with phantom movement that never quite manifested. “They’re coming back.”
~
The lock clicked.
Rumi was on her feet instantly.
The door barely had time to open before she was there, eyes bright, shoulders tense, relief crashing through her so hard it almost hurt. Mira stepped in first, jacket slung over one arm, and Zoey bounced in right after her, chattering about birds and turtles.
“We’re ba—oof—”
Mira barely finished the word before Rumi collided with her.
Rumi’s arms wrapped around Mira’s middle, face pressed into her chest like she was anchoring herself there. Mira stiffened for half a second out of surprise, then immediately relaxed, one hand coming up to steady Rumi’s back.
“…Yeah,” Mira said dryly, glancing at Zoey. “She was definitely fine alone.”
Zoey laughed, kicking the door shut behind them. “Rumi, you look like a kicked puppy.”
Rumi made a small, offended hiss but didn’t let go. Her fangs flashed when she looked up, just barely visible as she frowned. “You took too long.”
“We took twenty minutes,” Zoey said, already toeing off her shoes.
“Too long,” Rumi repeated stubbornly.
Before either of them could react, she grabbed Mira’s wrist with one hand and Zoey’s sleeve with the other and dragged them toward the living room. For someone so small, Rumi had a surprising amount of strength when she decided on something.
“Hey, wait,” Zoey laughed, stumbling along. “Where are we going?”
“Couch,” Rumi said simply.
Mira raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even asking.”
Rumi shot her a look over her shoulder, eyes sharp and almost wolfish. “You’ll sleep alone tonight otherwise.”
That shut them both up.
She shoved Mira down first—more insistently than forcefully—then pushed Zoey beside her, herding them until they were properly seated. Only when they were both there, solid and real and warm, did Rumi climb up herself, curling sideways and half on top of them, legs tucked in, head pressing into Zoey’s shoulder while one arm hooked firmly around Mira’s waist.
“Wow. Personal space is officially cancelled.” Zoey snorted.
Rumi hummed, eyes already fluttering shut, cheek resting comfortably against Zoey. “You’re warm.”
Mira sighed, resigned but fond, an arm settling across Rumi’s back like it belonged there. “You gonna move at all?”
“No.”
A beat.
“Not even for dinner?”
Rumi’s lips twitched into a small smile, fangs peeking out as she relaxed fully between them. “Probably not.”
Zoey laughed more softly this time, reaching up to run her fingers through Rumi’s hair. “Guess we’re trapped. I’ll be sure to order us food later.”
Rumi’s shoulders finally loosened, breath evening out, the quiet no longer threatening with her pack exactly where she needed them.
~
Rumi stiffened.
It was subtle at first—just a pause in her breathing, the way her fingers tightened in Mira’s shirt.
Zoey felt it immediately.
“…Rumi?” Zoey murmured, turning her head. “What’s wrong?”
Normally Rumi only hears him in the shadows. But today while the lights were on, the figure stood anyway, stretched tall at the far end like it had grown out of the air itself. The wide brim of its hat cut a dark, deliberate shape that didn’t belong to any shadow cast in the room.
Rumi’s lips peeled back as she stood up.
A low, warning growl slipped from her chest, vibrating through her ribs.
Zoey startled. “Whoa—hey—what’s wrong?”
“He’s here,” Rumi said, voice tight and rough. She didn’t look away. Couldn’t. “Tall, dark, he’s wearing a hat.”
Mira followed her line of sight, scanning carefully, jaw set. “Rumi… I don’t see anything.”
The growl deepened.
Rumi got up and stepped forward, shoulders hunched, teeth bared now, fangs catching the light. “It’s watching us.”
Zoey edged closer to Mira, lowering her voice. “Okay, this is like when my dog stares at the corner of the ceiling and loses his mind.”
Mira muttered back, just as quietly, “Yeah. Like when animals see something we can’t. Or think they do.”
Rumi heard them anyway.
Her ears rang, heart pounding, but the presence didn’t waver. The figure didn’t move—just loomed, impossibly tall, hat tipped slightly forward like it was studying her reaction.
Rumi snarled. “Stop looking at me.”
Nothing.
Her growl turned into a hiss, the sound sending chills up Mira and Zoey’s spines. She planted herself between them and the intruder, every instinct screaming to drive them away from her pack.
The figure stepped forward.
Not with feet—more like the space between them folded wrong, distance collapsing in on itself. The tall silhouette glided nearer, the brim of its hat dipping as if in acknowledgment.
Rumi’s breath stuttered.
“It’s—” Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard, eyes locked on the hallway. “It’s coming closer.”
Mira’s shoulders tensed immediately. She followed Rumi’s stare, heart thudding even though she still saw nothing but the clean lines of the penthouse. “Rumi, I don’t see anyone.”
Rumi whimpered before it turned into a frantic, broken growl; as if she couldn’t decide whether to fight or flee.
“Okay, nope. This is officially when pets lose it at nothing and you start questioning reality.” Zoey’s laugh came out sharp and nervous.
Mira muttered back, trying to keep her voice light, “Yeah. Like horses spooking at empty air. Or cats staring at walls like they’re possessed.”
Rumi shook violently, eyes wide, pupils blown. “Stop joking,” she pleaded. “It’s looking at us. It knows you can’t see it.”
The figure loomed now—right at the edge of the living room. The air felt thick, pressing in on her ears. Rumi’s breathing went ragged, fangs fully bared as a raw snarl ripped from her throat, louder than before, edged with panic.
“Leave!” Rumi hissed out. “You’re not welcome here!” She dragged her feet forward, trying to stay between her pack and the interloper.
“Okay,” Mira said tightly, forcing a shaky smirk as she glanced at Zoey. “If she’s a dog, this is the part where the owner pretends not to be scared.”
Zoey let out a breathy laugh, eyes darting around the empty space anyway. “Yeah. Like, ‘Haha, what are you barking at, buddy?’ while fully accepting you’re about to die.”
The hat man glided forward.
Rumi didn’t retreat this time and her demeanor shifted.
Her pupils narrowed to slits as the distance closed, every muscle drawn tight. She tracked the movement with uncanny precision, head following just a fraction of a second behind like a predator locking on prey. Her tongue flicked out unconsciously, tasting the air, and she recoiled with a sharp intake of breath.
“It smells wrong,” she murmured. “Like dust. Like old fear.”
“Cool. I hate how you can do that.” Zoey swallowed. “Wait does this mean the penthouse is haunted?”
Mira muttered back, tension threaded through her voice, “Some animals are cool, and snakes are one of them. Doesn’t mean I like seeing you taste air and smelling something wrong with shadows.”
The figure loomed within a few steps of them now, towering, hat brim dipping as though in recognition. The lights around it seemed to dull, shadows clinging where they shouldn’t.
For a long moment, nothing happened. The figure hovered, as if considering her—canine defiance, serpentine patience, both braided tight in her stance.
Then Rumi lunged.
Not forward—up, snapping her jaws in the empty space between them with a violent hiss, a warning strike meant to intimidate rather than bite.
The figure recoiled.
Its outline rippled, hat tilting sharply as the space around it distorted. The darkness thinned, unraveling from the edges inward, like shed skin peeling away.
And then it was gone.
The hallway snapped back into place, light fully restored.
Her shoulders dropped, posture melting like wax in the sun. The tension drained out of her so fast it was honestly alarming. Rumi turned, eyes suddenly soft and bright, and before either of them could process what was happening—
She launched herself forward.
Mira barely had time to grunt before Rumi climbed straight into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck, face burrowing under her chin with a content little hsss of a sound.
“…Okay,” Zoey said weakly. “That was absolutely when an animal sees something we don’t.”
Rumi sighed happily, rubbing her cheek against Mira’s collarbone. “You’re warm.”
Mira froze, hands hovering uselessly in the air. “You were just hissing at the void.”
Rumi nodded, already getting comfortable, legs tucked in, tailbone doing that phantom twitch again. “Yeah.”
“…And now you’re cuddling me.”
“Uh-huh.”
Zoey squinted at her. “You almost bit the concept of darkness thirty seconds ago.”
Rumi hummed, eyes fluttering shut. “I did my job.”
Mira let out a stunned laugh, one hand finally settling on Rumi’s back like muscle memory kicked in. “This is emotional whiplash.”
Zoey snorted, still half on edge. “I’m actually dizzy. Is this what it’s like owning a pet?”
Rumi peeked one eye open, fangs just barely visible as she smiled. “Pack’s safe. That means cuddle time.”
She scooted closer, effectively trapping Mira against the couch cushions, then reached out blindly and grabbed Zoey’s sleeve, tugging until Zoey toppled in on top of them.
“Hey—!” Zoey protested, then sighed when Rumi immediately curled against her too. “Wow. Okay. We definitely need to rearrange, this is going to be uncomfortable otherwise.”
Rumi made a soft, pleased sound deep in her chest, warmth radiating off her as they readjusted. She settled fully between them instead, head tucked under Mira’s chin, fingers loosely gripping Zoey’s hoodie trying to pull her more into them like she was trying to absorb Zoey.
Mira shook her head, still processing. “You are terrifying.”
“And adorable,” Zoey added.
Rumi smiled, already half-asleep. “Thank you.”
The lights stayed on.
And Mira and Zoey sat there, stunned, holding their suddenly cuddly half-demon like nothing horrifying had just happened at all.
~
The day was bright, warm and blazing hot to Mira and Zoey but Rumi wanted to go to the park.
So they did.
They were gone for maybe five minutes.
When Zoey and Mira came back from the drink kiosk, Zoey noticed the snakes first. “Hey,” she said slowly, “the park didn’t have snakes when we left, right?”
Mira stopped. Counted. Reconsidered her life choices.
Rumi stood in the grass, hands on her hips, looking pleased. She was currently flanked by snakes. A thin green snake was coiled neatly around her ankle like it had claimed her. A thicker brown one lounged across the bench, refusing to move. A tiny black snake darted in frantic little circles, clearly overachieving.
Rumi hissed.
The tiny one zipped off immediately.
“Rumi,” Mira said flatly, “why is your new friend being worn like an ankle monitor?”
“This is Hana,” Rumi said, nodding at the ankle snake. Hana lifted her head smugly. “She’s organized. Very efficient.”
Hana nudged a perfectly smooth, sparkly stone forward.
“See look, that’s a good one.”
The bench snake made no effort to help. Instead, it flicked its tongue and stared at Zoey judgmentally.
“That’s Gumi,” Rumi added. “He thinks he’s above manual labor.”
Gumi did not disagree.
The tiny snake came skidding back, pushing three coins, a bottle cap, and—somehow—a hair clip. It looked exhausted but proud.
“And that’s Bori,” Rumi said fondly. “He tries very hard.”
Zoey crossed her arms. “Babe. We love you. But why are you running a snake mafia.”
“Well I called and they were the only ones that came.” Rumi smiled, sharp and sweet. “Also they like helping. And I like shiny things.”
Mira folded her arms, staring down at the scene like she was trying to mentally budget for it. She knew exactly what Rumi was wanting.
“Rumi,” she said, very calmly, “you are not keeping the snakes.”
“But Mira,” Rumi said, “we have room.”
“No.”
“We have a penthouse.”
“No.”
“And money.”
Mira’s jaw tightened.
On the bench, Gumi remained completely unmoved by the conversation. He was stretched out along the wood, head resting against the backrest, soaking in the sun like a retired old man. He flicked his tongue once, lazily, and did not acknowledge Zoey at all.
Zoey crouched in front of him anyway. “Hey, buddy. I’m Zoey. I live with Rumi. We could be friends.”
Gumi blinked then flicked his tongue once.
Then he turned his head just enough to face the sun more directly, closing his eyes again.
Zoey gasped. “He ignored me on purpose.”
“That means he respects you enough to not waste energy.” Rumi nodded, pleased as if she didn’t watch her girlfriend get snubbed by a snake.
“I don’t feel respected.”
Mira exhaled through her nose and looked back at Rumi. “You are not keeping them.”
Rumi walked carefully closer, slipping her arms around Mira’s waist and resting her chin against her shoulder. “We have a penthouse,” she said quietly. “And that unused sunroom. And enough money for proper enclosures. Separate ones, if needed. We can hire people to care for them while we tour.”
Hana tightened slightly around Rumi’s ankle, lifting her head in agreement. Bori skidded back into view, proudly dropping a small, mirror-backed compact at Mira’s feet.
Mira stared down at it.
“We would need permits,” she muttered.
“That’s a maybe,” Zoey said immediately, still glaring at Gumi. “You hear that? She said maybe. We are going to be best buddies.”
Gumi did not open his eyes.
The bench creaked softly as he adjusted his weight, utterly content, and utterly uninterested in Zoey’s existence.
Mira sighed, long and resigned. “We are discussing this. At home.”
Rumi beamed, already victorious.
Zoey pointed at Gumi one last time. “I’m not buying you enrichment toys.”
Gumi’s tail twitched.
It might have been a laugh.
~
The mistake was letting Bori touch the floor.
The second Rumi set the bag down, Bori shot out like a spark, skidding across the marble before pausing mid-hallway. His head lifted. His tongue flicked twice.
Then he split his attention.
“Oh no,” Zoey said. “He’s triangulating.”
Bori zipped left—straight into Mira’s room.
“Bori!” Mira said, instantly alert. “Why does he know where my room is?”
Hana remained with Rumi, calm and deliberate, coiling loosely around her ankle as if anchoring herself to familiar ground. She lifted her head and watched the hallway with mild interest, unbothered. Gumi, meanwhile, slithered straight to the couch and settled along the back cushions again, heavy and satisfied, clearly pleased to find that his furniture from the park had been upgraded.
He was on top of a blanket.
Zoey’s blanket.
Gumi had even tucked his head onto her pillow, all the while Zoey was glaring at him.
From Mira’s room came a soft clink-clatter that went ignored in the moment.
“Oh so first you ignore me,” Zoey’s teeth gritted. “Then decide to steal my spot? You’re funny.”
Gumi let out a tiny, lazy hiss from his throne on the couch.
Zoey was cut off from answering as Bori reappeard.
Dragging a thin gold chain across the floor, its pendant flashing under the lights. He deposited it proudly at Rumi’s feet, tail vibrating with excitement.
Rumi gasped. “Bori! You’re so thoughtful!”
“That’s my necklace,” Mira said flatly.
Before anyone could stop him, Bori turned around.
He bolted past them, straight into Zoey’s room this time.
“Are we just going to be robbed by a snake?” Zoey said, still glaring at Gumi.
“Why don’t you show them your hoard?” Mira turned towards Rumi, basically pleading with her to give them a break already.
Rumi perked up and hissed softly.
The snakes cheered.
~
Bori curled around a golden coin, hissing contently. Hana was nestled among the jewelry, specifically Mira’s, while Gumi sat on top of Zoey’s jewelry—as if he knew whose it was.
Zoey glared at Gumi, who blinked slowly back, entirely indifferent.
Mira just sighed, thankful that it wasn’t spiders the adopted.
And Rumi?
Rumi just smiled, triumphant, at her very shiny, very spoiled snakes.
(She couldn’t wait until Celine visited her next time.)