Kaz Brekker

Jae-eun really did not think it was possible for him to be weak to a young girl calling him oppa. It's a ridiculous trope that has never once appealed to him, not least because he assumed that sort of thing only worked on straight men, which no one has ever accused him of being. Until Darrow, though, until Hilde, he'd never had a little sister. He'd never had any sister at all, any family but his mother and, eventually, Sihyun.

Running into Rumi up at Kagura was pure chance, though they'd had a friend in common at the time. Mira's disappearance has weighed heavily on Rumi, though she doesn't typically talk about it, not in any serious terms. He recognizes it, though. She's bright and extroverted in a way he's never been nor wanted to be, but there's a part of her so familiar to him he finds it worrying at times, that perfectionist drive, the urge to push aside anything bothersome and dive into her music, stubborn and determined to the point of recklessness.

He's come a long way in the last half a decade. He's not, he's sure, what anyone would really consider mentally stable, if they knew the things that went on in his head, but he's surviving. A lot of the time, he even likes being alive. He still has nightmares, something he's sorry to Sihyun for, knowing he has to wake up now and then to Jae-eun panicking, not quite awake, too overwhelmed to breathe. The memories will never go away completely, and neither will the guilt. Most days, though, are quiet and simple, and he likes it that way. He hasn't completely let go of his perfectionism, hasn't broken free of his obsessive tendencies, but he's managed to step back a great deal. He hopes one day Rumi can do the same.

He hopes, too, that he's not making a mistake now, following her lead. He'd thought after hanging out at the lodge, that would be the end of it, but her encouragement continued and slowly he relented. He'll just be in the background, playing the keyboard while she and Zoey sing. It's a chance to play music without being the focus, and a keyboard isn't quite the same as a piano in terms of the feeling it evokes in him when he plays. The music they sing isn't anything like what he used to practice for hours on end, long past the point of reason.

It's a weekday evening, the sun not yet fully set, when they find a spot on the boardwalk to perform. Rumi has her guitar, but with Jae there to play the keyboard, she and Zoey can focus on rap and vocals instead. Until he met them, that wasn't a combination he'd given much thought. He's never hated pop music. He just figured it wasn't for him, pallid compared to the works of Schubert and Beethoven. There's complexity there, though, if he looks in the right places, and in the artistry and passion of the girls when they talk about music. There's still a lot for him to learn. He'd thought he'd given up on that.

"Oh, this is so much better," Rumi groans, unfolding a chair and leaning her guitar atop it, leaving her case open wide in front of them. "It's been a billion degrees all day. All week."

"It's still hot," Jae points out wryly.

"Yeah, but..." Rumi draws in a deep breath, stretching as she looks out toward the water. "At least it's bearable now. Can't sing if we're all melted."

He's learned new songs for them, including some they and Mira wrote together, and he's determined to get them right. Still, it's not as much pressure as he'd thought it might be. As people gather, they're clearly stopping because Zoey and Rumi have beautiful voices and commanding stage presence, not because of him. He can play and be part of it while still staying in the background, though the thrill of that has his energy growing as the sun dips lower and the evening wears on.

[ Catch a busking performance by two-thirds of Huntrix, with Jae on the keys! Tag Jae, Rumi, or both after the show, between songs, making a request, dancing along to some summer kpop bops, interrupting them with a misplaced frisbee, or anything you can think of. Open to all! ]