Morning came too slowly and too fast at the same time.
Rumi had barely slept, her mind replaying the events in the clearing over and over. The demon. The fighting. The way Cro's marks had glowed when he touched her. The sound of multiple demons arriving just as she'd run.
Had he survived? Was he okay? The questions circled endlessly, making her stomach twist with worry.
She was exhausted at breakfast, pushing her cereal around the bowl while Zoey chattered about the cookies they were going to bake and Mira studied her with that concerned expression again.
"You look terrible," Mira said bluntly.
"Thanks," Rumi muttered.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"Not much."
"Bad dreams?"
Rumi nodded, because it was easier than explaining. "Yeah. Bad dreams."
Celine appeared in the kitchen doorway, already dressed for work. "I have to go in early today," she said apologetically. "Emergency meeting. But I'll be home by dinner. Mira, you're in charge. No going anywhere without telling me first, okay?"
"Okay," Mira said.
"And if you go back to that clearing—" Celine paused, choosing her words carefully. "Just be careful. Stay together. And if anything feels wrong, you leave immediately. Deal?"
"Deal," they chorused.
After Celine left, they spent the morning baking cookies. Zoey insisted on making both chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin, just in case Cro had a preference. Mira measured ingredients with her usual precision while Rumi tried to focus on the simple, normal task of mixing dough.
But her arms kept tingling. The marks kept warming. And every time she looked out the window toward the forest, she felt that pull again, that certainty that something was wrong.
"Can we go now?" she asked as soon as the cookies were cool enough to pack.
"Someone's eager," Zoey teased.
"I just want to make sure he's okay," Rumi said, then immediately regretted it when both her sisters looked at her with interest.
"Why wouldn't he be okay?" Mira asked.
"I don't know. I just... have a feeling."
Mira studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Let's go."
They packed the cookies in a plastic container and headed into the forest. The path was familiar now, easier to follow in daylight. But as they got closer to the clearing, Rumi's sense of wrongness grew stronger.
Something had happened. Something bad.
"Do you smell that?" Zoey asked, wrinkling her nose.
Rumi did. A burnt smell, acrid and unpleasant. Like sulfur and smoke and something else, something organic and wrong.
They emerged into the clearing and stopped.
The impossible flowers were wilted, their glow extinguished. The grass was scorched in places, black marks scarring the earth. And there was blood—dark stains on the ground, on the trunk of the old oak tree, trailing away into the forest.
"Oh god," Mira whispered.
"Cro!" Zoey called out. "Cro, are you here?"
No answer.
Rumi's heart was pounding. The marks on her arms were burning now, not just warm but actually hot, and the pull she'd been feeling all morning was screaming at her to move, to follow, to find him.
"There," she said, pointing to the blood trail. "He went that way."
"Rumi, we should get help," Mira said. "We should call Celine, or the police, or—"
"There's no time," Rumi said, already moving. "He's hurt. He needs help now."
She followed the blood trail into the trees, her sisters close behind. The trail was easy to follow—too easy, too much blood—and with every step Rumi's fear grew stronger.
Please be alive, she thought. Please be okay. Please.
They found him collapsed against a tree about fifty yards from the clearing. His shirt was gone, his chest and arms covered in wounds that looked like claw marks. Blood soaked his jeans and pooled on the ground beneath him. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow.
But he was breathing.
"Cro!" Rumi dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his injuries, not sure where to touch, how to help. "Cro, can you hear me?"
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused. "Rumi," he whispered. "You shouldn't... not safe..."
"Shut up," Rumi said, her voice shaking. "Just shut up and stay still. Mira, call Celine. Now."
Mira was already pulling out her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed. "There's no signal. We're too deep in the forest."
"Then run back to the house and call from there," Rumi ordered. "Zoey, give me your shirt."
"What—"
"Your shirt! I need to stop the bleeding."
Zoey pulled off her t-shirt without argument, leaving her in just her tank top. Rumi pressed the fabric against the worst of Cro's wounds, trying to remember everything she'd learned from the first aid class Celine had made them take last year.
Apply pressure. Keep the victim calm. Don't let them go into shock.
"Stay with me," she said to Cro. "Stay awake. Talk to me."
"Can't," Cro breathed. "Too many. Couldn't... couldn't stop them all."
"How many?" Rumi asked, more to keep him talking than because she needed to know.
"Five. Maybe six." His eyes closed again. "They knew. Knew you were here. Came for you."
"For me?" Rumi's hands stilled. "Why would they come for me?"
"The marks," Cro whispered. "They can sense... the connection. Makes you a target."
Zoey made a small, frightened sound. Rumi looked up to see her sister staring at Cro's chest, at the marks that covered his skin—the same marks that were on Rumi's arms.
"Rumi," Zoey said quietly. "What's going on? What is he?"
"I don't know," Rumi said honestly. "But right now it doesn't matter. Right now we just need to keep him alive until Mira gets back with help."
She pressed harder on the wounds, feeling Cro's blood warm and sticky on her hands. He was so pale, his breathing getting shallower with each passing moment.
"Don't you dare die," she said fiercely. "Don't you dare. You promised we'd talk today. You promised you'd explain things. So you have to stay alive to keep that promise. You hear me?"
Cro's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "Bossy," he murmured.
"Yeah, well, get used to it," Rumi said. "Because I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."
His hand moved, slowly, painfully, until it covered hers where she pressed against his chest. His skin was cold, too cold, but his grip was surprisingly strong.
"The marks," he said again. "When they glow\... means we're connected. Means you're part of this now. Part of what I am."
"What are you?" Rumi asked.
But Cro's eyes had closed again, and this time they didn't open. His hand went limp in hers.
"No," Rumi said. "No, no, no. Cro, wake up. Wake up!"
"Is he dead?" Zoey asked, her voice small and terrified.
Rumi pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there—faint, irregular, but there. "No. But he's dying. Where's Mira? Why isn't she back yet?"
As if in answer, they heard crashing through the underbrush. But it wasn't Mira who emerged from the trees.
It was another demon.
Smaller than the one Rumi had seen last night, but no less terrifying. It was all shadow and teeth and wrong angles, and when it saw them it made a sound like grinding metal and broken glass.
Zoey screamed.
Rumi threw herself over Cro's body, shielding him with her own, her mind racing. They couldn't run—Cro couldn't be moved. They couldn't fight—they were just kids with no weapons and no training.
They were going to die.
The demon moved closer, its red eyes fixed on Rumi. On the marks on her arms. On the connection it could sense between her and the unconscious boy she was protecting.
And then Rumi's marks flared bright.
Not just warm this time. Not just glowing. They burned with a light so intense it hurt to look at, a light that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, somewhere she hadn't known existed.
The demon shrieked and recoiled, shielding its eyes—or what passed for eyes—from the brightness.
Rumi stared at her arms in shock. The marks were blazing, the geometric patterns standing out in sharp relief against her skin, and she could feel power flowing through them. Not her power—Cro's power, somehow channeled through their connection, through the marks that bound them together.
"Stay back," she said to the demon, and her voice didn't sound like her own. It sounded older, stronger, layered with something ancient and dangerous. "You can't have him. You can't have any of us."
The demon hesitated, clearly confused. This wasn't supposed to happen. Humans weren't supposed to glow. Humans weren't supposed to channel Saiyan energy.
But Rumi wasn't entirely human. She'd never been entirely human.
She just hadn't known it until now.
The demon lunged.
Rumi raised her hands instinctively, and light exploded from her palms—the same light that covered her marks, the same light she'd seen in Cro's fists when he fought. It hit the demon square in the chest and the creature dissolved into smoke with a final, agonized shriek.
Then the light faded, and Rumi collapsed forward onto Cro's chest, gasping.
"What," Zoey said faintly, "was that?"
"I don't know," Rumi whispered. "I don't know."
But she did know, on some level. The marks weren't just marks. The connection wasn't just a connection. She and Cro were bound together by something deeper than friendship or fate or coincidence.
They were the same. Whatever he was, whatever power ran through his veins, it ran through hers too.
She'd just never known how to access it until he'd needed her.
Footsteps crashed through the forest—multiple people this time. Mira burst into view, followed by Celine and two paramedics with a stretcher.
"Oh thank god," Mira gasped. "Rumi, are you okay? We heard screaming—"
"I'm fine," Rumi said, though she was shaking so hard she could barely stand. "But Cro needs help. Now."
The paramedics moved in immediately, assessing Cro's injuries with professional efficiency. Celine pulled Rumi and Zoey back, her face pale with shock as she took in the blood, the scorched earth, the lingering smell of sulfur.
"What happened here?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," Rumi lied. "We found him like this. And then there was... something. An animal, maybe. It attacked us and then ran away."
Celine's eyes narrowed. She didn't believe the lie, but she also didn't push. Not here, not now, with paramedics loading an unconscious boy onto a stretcher and her daughters covered in blood and clearly traumatized.
"We'll talk about this later," she said. "Right now, let's just get everyone safe."
They followed the paramedics back through the forest, Rumi walking in a daze. Her arms still tingled where the marks had glowed. Her hands still remembered the feeling of power flowing through them.
She'd killed a demon. She'd channeled Cro's energy and killed a demon.
Which meant she wasn't human. Not entirely. Not anymore.
Maybe she never had been.
At the edge of the forest, Rumi looked back toward the clearing one last time. The old oak tree was barely visible through the trees, but she could feel it there, could feel the space where she'd first met Cro, where everything had changed.
Tomorrow, she'd have answers. Tomorrow, when Cro woke up—if he woke up—he'd explain everything.
Tomorrow, she'd understand what she was. What they were.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.