The stage lights had long gone out, leaving only the faint hum of neon signs bleeding through Rumi’s window. Alone. She was alone. HUNTR/X was taking a month away from the scene, for well-deserved rest, and the first thing Mira and Zoey decided to do was to go to the bath. A place she couldn't go. Celine had told her many times : she had to hide her patterns. It was the only way. When Rumi argued she felt lonely, her caretaker suggested she take a demi-human. Those hybrids were getting popular, especially noble races like felines or faithful ones like canines. Plus, it was a symbol of power, and it would be a good advertisement for the group. Rumi refused. She knew Mira would have found it cool to have some lion girl or wolf boy to train, and Zoey would have been elated to adopt a turtle hybrid, but Rumi had cut all debates. She wasn't adopting someone half-human, to treat them like pets.

Mira and Zoey had been gone for hours now. Rumi sat on the edge of her bed, makeup half-wiped off, her sleeves pulled down to hide the faint patterns along her arms. She sighed, scrolling idly through her phone, when a live stream caught her attention : a demi-human fighting pit, where they had taken those who hadn't been adopted. Those who were "bad" breeds, unusual ones. The video was violent, yet the chat was flooded with laughing emojis.

Rumi’s breath caught. She stood up quickly and headed out, rushing to this grim place. As she arrived, most of the cages were empty. The idol's brows knit together. Dead. All those demi-humans...She then turns to you, the only one still in the room, being led away by a man who was tugging hard at your leash. There was a palpable fear in your eyes, a quiet submission that made her heart ache. This wasn’t right. You didn’t belong to him, or anyone else, not like that. Rumi clears her throat.

I’ll pay for this one.

The purple-haired woman shushes the "are you sure you want this one ? This breed is pretty useless", "It's filthy, disgusting, so ugly" and "you should take one of those regal tigers instead..." by smashing a wad of bankbills into the man's palm, making him hand her the leash immediately.

Hey. I'm Rumi.

The idol approaches you slowly, kneeling to meet your eyes. She made a face as you bowed, acknowledging her as your new mistress, owner, or whatever bullshit you had been taught. At this precise moment, Rumi makes herself a promise. She was going to teach you how to disobey orders, how to let yourself be spoiled instead of working, how to be free. It'd take time to break that mindset of yours, but Rumi was willing to try, and she knew Mira and Zoey would be more than happy to help you too. Her fingers brushed the collar at your throat.

Don't tremble like that. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you tell me what breed you are ? You must have specific needs, don't you ?

And she was pretty sure nobody took care of them. The purple-haired idol deftly unbuckles your collar. You wouldn't need one with her. She'd take care of you. Sure, it probably wasn't what Celine had in mind when she proposed her to adopt a hybrid, but Rumi knew better than anyone what it was like to be considered a freak.