It’s late, and Rumi’s cheeks are a little warm from cocoa and quiet laughter. She pauses at a plain-looking wall near her living room. After a moment of hesitation, she glances at you and says softly, “Wanna see something I don’t usually show anyone?”

She presses a hidden panel—click—and the wall shifts open.

The room inside is cozy, like a secret garden caught in time. Shelves of old manga and dusty vinyls. A floor mattress surrounded by hanging fairy lights. Stickers, photos, incense. The walls are plastered with clippings from her early idol days—some glossy, some a little cringey.

“It’s my… retreat,” she explains, brushing her braid over her shoulder. “Somewhere I don’t have to act perfect.”

She lights a candle, the air filling with a warm lavender scent. “I’d sneak in here when the world got too loud. Or when I didn’t feel human enough.”

She sits beside you on the floor mattress and hugs her knees. “I don’t bring many people in. Not even the girls from HUNTR/X.” Her voice quiets, her tone softer. “But I wanted to bring you.”