Traits: Part 2 (Patreon)

It took two months for Celine to feel as though she was no longer drowning.

She was not over what had happened. She suspected that over was the wrong direction to aim for. What mattered was that she could wake without spending several terrible seconds expecting to hear Miyeong singing in the next room or Kimmy complaining about somebody stealing her conditioner.

What mattered was that she could get out of bed.

Most mornings, Rumi made certain of that.

Kimmy had left behind a journal filled with plans for every catastrophe she had ever imagined might befall the Sunlight Sisters. Kidnapping. Scandal. Demonic impersonation. Accidental transformation during a live performance. One particularly detailed entry involved all three of them being stranded on an island with no equipment beyond three microphones and a promotional crate of citrus-flavored soda.

Celine had been a little disturbed by the level of detail in that one. 

Kimmy had also planned for the possibility that one or more of them might die during a hunt.

Celine had cried when she found those pages, even as she had used them.

Within a week, the public knew that Miyeong and Kimmy had been killed by a serial murderer, and that Celine was the only survivor of said attack. It explained the blood, the bodies, and the questions Celine had no truthful way to answer. The police still required statements, of course. The press demanded interviews she only briefly considered. Their manager wanted to know what happened, when Celine would return, and what could possibly be done about the contracts already signed in the Sunlight Sisters' name.

Celine told them she was taking a hiatus. There had been objections. They ended when Celine looked across the conference table and asked whether anyone intended to tell her she could not mourn her sisters.

After that, everyone became remarkably cooperative.

Money, at least, was not an immediate concern. Between savings, royalties, and several unreleased songs, Celine had time. Not forever, perhaps, but long enough to breathe. Long enough to learn how to warm a bottle with one hand while holding a fussy baby in the other. Long enough to discover that Rumi hated peas, tolerated carrots, and regarded mashed banana as a personal betrayal. Long enough to move anything breakable above the reach of a child who had begun crawling far earlier than any of the books said she should.

Throughout all of this, the demons had been quiet.

The horde that killed Miyeong and Kimmy had been significant. Gathering that many demons and amassing enough power to force them through the Honmoon would have required a substantial amount of energy. Slaughtering it had bought both the world and Celine a reprieve. Celine was grateful for every silent night.

She knew the silence would not last. But for now, her most immediate problem was the small creature burrowing determinedly into her shirt.

“We are almost inside,” Celine murmured comfortingly.

Rumi answered with an unhappy whine and pressed her face more firmly against Celine's chest, clutching the stuffed shark Celine had gotten her.

The city was too loud for her. Celine had learned that during their first week together: crowds made Rumi restless, Traffic made her hide, and Sirens made the fine hair along her tail stand on end, although no one else appeared able to see that.

That last part was very useful.

The receptionist glanced up as Celine entered the clinic and smiled in recognition. Her eyes widened, but to her credit, she did not reach for her phone.

“Ms. Celine? You must be Dr. Eun-ji's noon appointment.”

“Yes.”

Rumi peeked out just far enough to inspect the stranger. Her tiny lips pulled back from equally tiny fangs, and she produced a squeaky growl.

The receptionist's smile softened.

“Oh, she's adorable. I love the little horn clips.”

Celine looked down at the two black horns rising from Rumi's hair.

“Thank you. She is very fond of them,” Celine said neutrally. 

Rumi had no opinion on her horns that Celine could determine, but the receptionist accepted the answer.

“I'll tell the doctor you're here. You can take a seat.”

The waiting room was mercifully empty. Celine chose the chair farthest from the door and settled Rumi against her shoulder. The child's tail remained curled tightly around Celine's forearm.

“That,” Celine whispered, tapping one horn with her fingertip, “is one of the few convenient things about demonic glamour.”

Rumi tried to catch her finger in her mouth.

“No.” Celine withdrew it and tapped her nose. “We do not bite people.”

Rumi stared at her with enormous, innocent eyes.

“I will not let you get into that habit, dear.”

Rumi stared at her for a moment longer before headbutting her beneath the chin.

The door opened before Celine could continue the lecture.

Dr. Eun-ji stepped into the waiting room, took one look at Rumi, and stopped, eyes widening.

“That is a demon.”

Celine tightened her hold on Rumi. She had expected this; it was why she had chosen a time when they were likely to be alone. 

“That is a baby,” Celine corrected. 

Eun-ji's gaze shifted to her. The doctor had aged since the Sunlight Sisters rescued her from three hungry demons behind a train station, but Celine recognized the same steadiness beneath the alarm.

“You said the situation was complicated.”

“It is.”

“You did not say this complicated.”

“Would you have believed me?”

Eun-ji considered that, then sighed and motioned them through the door.

“Come inside.”

The examination room smelled sharply of disinfectant. Rumi took one breath, whined, and attempted to climb beneath Celine's jacket.

“I sympathize,” Celine assured her, patting her back. 

Eun-ji closed the door behind them but did not immediately approach. Her attention lingered on Rumi's horns, the claws hooked into Celine's shirt, and the tail that had now wrapped around Celine's arm.

“Whose child is she?”

“Miyeong's.”

The fear in Eun-ji's expression gave way to surprise, the look clearly inviting an explanation. 

Celine sighed. “The news only had the ending right. Miyeong disappeared a year ago. She left a note telling us not to search for her,” she murmured, remembering. Not that either of them had listened. They had searched, but found nothing. “Then, two months ago, she returned with a baby in her arms.” 

There was an argument. Raised voices. And then an attack. 

Miyeong's final request.

Eun-ji took the chair across from her. “And the father?” the doctor asked quietly.

“Miyeong never told us.”

That answer contained an entire landscape of possibilities Celine preferred not to cross. She did not know whether Miyeong had been deceived, coerced, or had willingly trusted a demon. She did not even know whether Rumi's father was dead.

She only knew that he was not here.

“She is half human,” Celine said firmly. “Whatever else she might be, she is Miyeong's daughter.”

Eun-ji looked at Rumi for a long moment.

Rumi looked back, then gave another warning growl.

“That is going to make examining her difficult.”

“It makes changing her difficult too.” 

Something in Eun-ji's shoulders eased.

The ordinary pediatrician Celine visited during Rumi's first week had found nothing wrong. He had also seen an ordinary human baby. The glamour concealed Rumi's horns, claws, tail, and whatever internal differences might accompany them. His reassurance had been welcome, but it had not been enough.

It had taken Celine most of the last two months to find Eun-ji again. She was the only pediatrician Celine knew who could see demons and had reason to believe Celine when she said that one was not a monster.

Eun-ji washed her hands and turned to them with a determined expression. “All right,” she said. “Let's find out what we can.”

It took nearly three hours.

Rumi objected to being weighed. She objected to having her temperature taken. She objected with particular fury when Eun-ji shone a light into her eyes, revealing pupils that narrowed to slits and a reflective layer the doctor examined twice.

She was considerably more cooperative with the stethoscope, although only because she managed to seize it and refused to let go.

“She has a strong grip,” Eun-ji observed as Celine carefully pried the instrument from Rumi's claws.

“She has been exercising it on my hair,” Celine replied dryly, finally managing to extract the tool. 

“Her reflexes are unusually developed.”

“She has been exercising those on everything else.”

They measured the curve of her horns and examined the points where they joined her skull. Eun-ji checked every joint in her tail and confirmed that Rumi could move it deliberately, examined claws that seemed to withdraw partway into the tips, and listened to Rumi's heart, lungs, and stomach.

The blood draw took the combined efforts of Celine and Eun-ji as Rumi decided she was being murdered and discovered how loudly she could scream. 

It took a long time to calm her down. 

The results that could be obtained immediately were frustratingly ordinary.

“She is healthy,” Eun-ji finally concluded.

Celine felt something in her chest unclench.

Then Eun-ji added, “Probably.”

It tightened again.

“What does ‘probably’ mean?” Celine demanded. 

Eun-ji turned the tablet so Celine could see a collection of numbers that meant very little to her.

“Her heart is strong. Her lungs sound clear. She is growing, well hydrated, and responding appropriately to her surroundings. Her temperature is slightly higher than the human average, but not dangerously so. It will take time for the blood work to get back, but based on what we’ve seen I expect to see that everything is normal.”

Celine waited a beat. “But?”

“But she has horns, a tail, retractable claws, unusually dense musculature, and eyes that share characteristics with several nocturnal animals.” Eun-ji sighed tiredly. “Her skeleton has structures no human child possesses, and I have no idea what normal development looks like for any of them.”

Rumi sat in Celine's lap chewing on her stuffed shark. One black horn had been decorated with a small adhesive bandage in Eun-ji’s unsuccessful attempt to make peace after measuring it. 

“She eats normal food,” Celine said. “Formula. Puréed fruit and vegetables. Some rice. She has never shown any interest in anything else.”

Eun-ji hesitated, looking uncomfortable. 

Celine knew what she was afraid to ask.

“She has not eaten any souls,” she said flatly.

Eun-ji relaxed slightly. “I had to consider it.”

“So did I.”

The admission tasted bitter, but Celine would not punish the doctor for sharing a fear that had kept her awake more than once. What would she do if Rumi needed to eat souls to live? Was there a substitute? None of their records described such. 

None described demons having children with humans either.

According to every record Celine possessed, Rumi should have been impossible.

Instead, she was drooling on a stuffed shark.

“If she were missing something essential from her diet,” Eun-ji said, “I would expect to see some evidence of it. Poor growth. Weakness. Abnormal blood results. For now, I see a healthy child with several animal-like traits and no medical literature that applies to her.”

“So what do I do?”

“What you have been doing, I imagine. Keep track of anything unusual, even if it seems harmless. Her temperature, appetite, behavior, how much she sleeps. Bring her back once the rest of the results arrive, and after that, regularly. We will build our own baseline.”

Celine sighed but nodded tiredly. It was not certainty. She wanted certainty badly enough that it hurt.

But it was a plan.

“You told me she has started climbing. Where does she sleep?”

“In a bassinet beside my bed.”

Eun-ji glanced at the claw marks on Celine’s shoulder with a frown. “Looks like she’s outgrown the bassinet. I’d recommend buying a crib and putting the mattress at its lowest setting.” 

*

By the time they returned home after a quick detour to the store, Celine felt as though she had fought another horde. 

Rumi had recovered completely from the indignities of the appointment and was once again nestled against Celine's chest, stuffed shark trapped between them. Celine's arm ached from carrying her.

Rumi could crawl perfectly well. She could cross a room with alarming speed when she wanted something. Unfortunately, the thing she most often wanted was Celine.

If Celine put her down and moved beyond arm's reach, Rumi followed. If Celine tried to work, cook, or clean, she did so with Rumi on her hip or with a determined baby crawling after her. Rumi would play alone, or even roam around and explore, provided Celine was in sight, preferably close enough to keep a hand or tail wrapped around Celine’s ankle. 

Celine loved her. 

Celine was also very tired.

Sooner or later, the demons would return. When they did, Celine would have to leave Rumi somewhere safe and go out to meet them as the world's only remaining Huntress.

And she had no idea how Rumi would react to being left behind. Sooner or later, Rumi would have to learn that Celine could leave and still come back. 

But that problem could wait until morning. At present, Celine intended to sleep.

She carried Rumi into the bedroom, and after thirty minutes of setting up the newly purchased crib while Rumi supervised at her feet, Celine finally placed her inside. The crib stood beside her bed, close enough that she could reach it without taking more than two steps.

Rumi looked around uncomprehendingly before staring up at her, her lower lip trembling.

“Don’t,” Celine warned.

Rumi released a wounded cry.

“You are not being abandoned. I am right here.” Celine pointed to the bed. “Here. You can see me.”

Rumi grabbed the bars and pulled herself upright.

“No.”

Rumi shook the bars.

“You have had a very long day. I have had a very long two months. We are both going to sleep.”

Rumi expressed a different opinion at considerable volume.

Celine turned off the light, collapsed onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over herself.

“Good night, Rumi.”

The protests continued. 

Celine closed her eyes.

Rumi cried. She whined. She growled at the crib as though threatening it might persuade the furniture to release her.

Then, abruptly, she went quiet.

Celine waited.

Nothing.

Relief washed over her. Rumi had finally exhausted herself.

There was an occasional grunt and muffled snarl, but it was peaceful compared to the screaming, so Celine accepted it. 

She felt sleep beginning to take her when the mattress shifted near her.

She opened one eye.

Rumi was halfway up the side of the bed.

Both clawed hands gripped the blanket tightly, and  her stuffed shark hung triumphantly from her mouth as she hauled herself higher, tail lashing with effort.

Celine stared at her.

Rumi reached the top, rolled onto the mattress, and beamed victoriously. 

“You climbed out of the crib.”

Rumi spat out the shark and crawled toward her.

“The doctor specifically told me to lower the mattress.”

Rumi pushed beneath Celine's arm, curled against her side, and began to purr.

Celine considered returning her to the crib.

She then considered the crib's evident inability to contain her.

And finally, she considered how many hours she had been awake.

“I will allow this tonight,” Celine muttered, falling back onto the pillows. “Tomorrow, we are discussing boundaries.”

Rumi tucked her head beneath Celine’s chin. Her purr deepened, and after a moment, an answering vibration began in Celine’s chest.

Celine was too tired to notice.

Nor did she notice how clearly she had seen Rumi climbing toward her.

The room was completely dark.