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“Kim Dokja,” The voice sounds far away, but it’s a familiar tone that he uses to notch himself and follow.
He collects himself together, waving in the pieces as they swirl in a container, constrained by a space. A physical body; it’s been a while since he had one of these, with the features it avails coming conscious to him slowly. He finds that he can feel fingers at the tips, brushing against the cotton of the bedsheets underneath him. His head lolls on something soft that creases when he turns it, pressed against his cheek. It’s nice.
“I swear to god if you’re just fucking with me—“
He breathes out softly, noting the warmth in the air. It has a scent that’s alive.
“—I’ll kill you.” The second voice is lower and gruffer, but just as familiar.
He opens his eyes, and light fills in.
The closest way to describe it is that he rouses up from a dream. The feeling is the same—he remembers part of the “dream”; some parts starkly clear, like his memories of them in the original round. The <Kim Dokja’s Company>, where he has a stake in each and every one of the members. He remembers their strength, their weaknesses, their happiness, their anguish. He remembers how they fought to reach beyond the Fourth Wall, to reach the epilogue.
Then it gets a bit fuzzy, where he can recall bits and bits of the other worldlines he watched as the Oldest Dream. Following Yoo Joonghyuk’s 0th regression, following him further in subsequent regressions, even following worldlines where Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t exist. It’s hard to pin down events like they unfold in chronological order, because they don’t. He just knows, because he read them from prologue to epilogue, and it doesn’t matter if the pages flip in any order.
And then there’s a memory harder to grasp. A room alone, knocks on the door, yelling from the other side. It was cold. Words fragment, phrases leak. Then there’s a time skip to him reading something yet again so familiar in places far, far away.
A protagonist, ex-pro gamer, fighting to reach the end of a time loop.
A plagiarist, the unknown true writer, learning about her destiny.
A sword, fierce and fiery with holy fire, leading the charge.
A shield, strong and loyal, steadfast to his companions.
An interpreter, walking on air to ensure their deliverance.
A battleship admiral, an insect king, a beast lord, a dokkaebi.
Kim Dokja wakes, and the memory fragments continue to fall into place.
Kim Dokja has never been fond of hospitals. It reminds him of the time he was bed bound by a thrashing, with barely even strength to stare at the wash white ceiling and wonder why he was still alive. There’s a certain clinicity of it that makes him uncomfortable. Lee Seolhwa sees his expression and looks pointedly at the saline IV attached to his arm, as if she was asking if he dared to take it out. Kim Dokja sighs, looking at the tube leaking fluid into his blood, and leaves it alone.
Gone are the days where they can swallow a Life and Death pill and miraculously cover. Gone are the days where they can stitch a story and patch up the broken pieces, regardless of the physical condition of the body. Now, with the star stream’s influence mostly gone, Kim Dokja has to heal up like a regular patient, the old fashioned way. From what he’s told, his body had miniaturized in the time he was 51% away, taking the form of a child. It’d slept like a dead in the same room, under the watchful eyes of those who still loved and believed in him. For years, his muscles were unused, left to wane. The consequence is that he cannot stand on his own until he gains the strength back through physical therapy.
It leaves him stuck in the hospital room with nowhere to escape, while dozens of people try to monopolise his presence after his absence. It’s understandable that they miss him—but he’s also struggling to encapsulate who he really is, with the pieces still trying to settle in their place. Lee Seolhwa does him the compassionate favour of limiting one to one visits, introducing an appointment calendar for people to sign up. He meets with most of them, briefly:
Yoo Sangah, who doesn’t ask about what he’s seen but instead about how he’s doing. Lee Gilyoung who cries for about ten minutes before showing him all the beetle pictures in his phone reel. Shin Yoosung, who brings him a form for legal adoption with an emboldened request. Lee Jihye, who lapses into calling him ‘ugly squid ahjussi’ within ten seconds. Biyoo, who uncannily passes for his younger twin sister, with a face of his splitting image. Uriel and the Great Sage, who bring him a stack of their CD singles. Persephone and Lee Sookyoung, who sit and watch until he eats his bowl of rice clean. Lee Hyunsung when he flies back from the States, telling him about the security firm he, Jung Heewon and Gong Pildu set up as a segue into a summary of what he’s missed since.
The list goes on.
The list doesn’t include Han Sooyoung, who strolls in whenever she wants, completely ignoring the greyed out areas of the calendar that’s supposed to dictate his resting time. It also doesn’t include Jung Heewon, whom he hears second-hand is doing fine but simply makes no move to meet him, nor Yoo Joonghyuk, the elusive bastard.
Their absence is not so obvious in the beginning, where Kim Dokja had been overwhelmed with his integration into a life surrounded by people he knows. However, once he’d been given the all clear to discharge from the hospital, he realises that perhaps there are lingering issues borne from his decision to become the Oldest Dream that needs to be addressed. Even without the use of his Omniscient Reader Viewpoint skill, he knows enough of his companions’ temperament to guess.
However, Kim Dokja has never been that emotionally forward, and he takes the time to think about how to best approach his problems while Han Sooyoung accompanies him on a walk around the Yoo Joonghyuk - Kim Dokja Industrial Complex. It’s grown much larger than he anticipated. It’s quite weird when people greet him like he’s supposed to know who they are—some he should recognise, but he can’t due to the many years that has passed. It’s also mighty weird to look at a statue of himself; the fading bronze of his silhouette towers over the entrance, with an awkward massive squid statue to accompany it. The base of it is covered with flowers.
[To commemorate Kim Dokja’s return.]
“Why,” he says, looking up at the statue face which has smoothed due to wear of the weather.
“Don’t ask me,” Han Sooyoung kicks the feet of it with a snort. “Anna Croft commissioned it when we regressed to the other worldline. We didn’t bring you back that time,” she kicks it again. “I guess it’s finally served its purpose.”
“It doesn’t look like me at all.”
“What are you talking about? It’s a mirror image of you,” Han Sooyoung says, pointing at the squid.
Kim Dokja narrow his eyes, giving her a shove. She shoves him back, but underestimates her own strength or his current under than average weight, because he tumbles. She lunges to grab him before he falls, cursing.
“…Thanks,” he says, when he gets his feet back to steady. “You know,” he swallows. “For everything.”
Han Sooyoung’s eyebrows raise at the muttered sentence before it lowers. “You wanna elaborate?” she cocks her head.
There’s a little smirk to her lips that makes him want to roll his eyes, but the tired lines on her face betray the effort that she’s put in to do the impossible.
“For keeping everyone together,” he starts first. “Alive and well. And for…not giving up on me.” There’s a lot more, but these are the ones he chooses to verbalise.
“You’re an idiot for thinking an avatar would fool me,” Han Sooyoung replies.
“Yes,” he sighs resignedly. “As you’ve said. For a thousand times.”
“I’ll say it once more: you’re a fucking idiot, Kim Dokja,” she repeats, tick in her brow. “I hope you know that you’re making this up to me for the rest of your life. Have you finished my novel yet?”
One of the first things that Han Sooyoung dumped him with was her novel that he promised to read. He’d read ‘Ways of Survival’ for ten years, and Han Sooyoung’s version was that and four thousand more pages, plus continuing updates that she’s spinning out of his recollection as the Oldest Dream.
“Halfway through,” he says. He’s not a slow reader by any means, but he tends to read things multiple times, just to really savour all the hidden nuances. “Can I get a physical copy?”
“What for?”
“I want to write comments for the chapters,” Kim Dokja explains. “The online version doesn’t let me leave any.”
“Yeah, because weirdos kept posting weird shit, I had to disable the function,” Han Sooyoung says. “I can turn it back on though.”
He shakes his head. “It’ll be better to write it privately. Some people might…disagree on the version of events I’m referring to.”
“Are you talking about Yoo Joonghyuk?”
“I did not make him eat soil,” Kim Dokja says solemnly.
“You forget that it was the 1863rd me who was there when you did that to him,” Han Sooyoung stares at him, a shit eating grin on her face. “Alright, Kim Dokja, I’ll print a copy for you, and you can highlight all the events that you think were falsely presented.”
“…You’re going to show that bastard my comments, aren’t you?”
“Only because you’re so full of shit.”
He snorts, but she’s grinning, and it feels like they’d always been like this; the years before, and the years to come. He stares up at the giant squid in front of them again, the memories of the 45th scenario replaying like a cinema reel. Back then, after he returned from disappearing for three years, most of his nebulae welcomed him back with tears. But like history repeating itself, Jung Heewon was not thrilled, angry at the loss of him and her sponsor, and Yoo Joonghyuk insisted on fighting him even though he tried to vouch for his identity via Midday Tryst, as if the bastard had a Midday Tryst with anyone else but him and Han Sooyoung.
“…Hey Han Sooyoung,” Kim Dokja starts, “I want to buy a house.”
Kim Dokja. Han Sooyoung. Yoo Joonghyuk. Jung Heewon. Yoo Sangah. Lee Hyunsung. Lee Jihye. Lee Gilyoung. Shin Yoosung. Biyoo. Yoo Mia.
To fit eleven people in a house is no joke. Residential properties aren’t that big anymore, unless Kim Dokja secures a block of flats or something. But it doesn’t have the same feel to it as a house, one with less walls between them. It’s a promise he made long ago, and perhaps the only promise he can fulfill now, after breaking so many. He has Han Sooyoung survey any potential places with the promise that he will foot the bill, and they find one which satisfies most of their requirements. Eleven rooms over three storeys and a basement, peppered with common spaces and enough bathrooms. It’s not that close to the Yoo Joonghyuk - Kim Dokja Industrial Complex or the train line for that matter, but it comes with a garage that can fit a few cars. More importantly, there is a large dining room that can fit everyone.
He puts the address in their group chat for the house viewing and everyone, sans Jung Heewon and Yoo Joonghyuk, turn up. He has a plan to reach Jung Heewon, so he leaves her alone for now. He tries to reach Yoo Joonghyuk via Midday Tryst, but gets no reply in return. He’s not sure if the channel has been deactivated on Yoo Joonghyuk’s side, as he can feel the connection of it with Han Sooyoung breaking down in the recent weeks. The bastard is also not replying his texts, so it could simply be that he’s still being ignored. Oh well. In the present, there are a lot of arguments about the allocation of the rooms and not about the property itself, which he takes as a go ahead to purchase it.
A week later, while everyone is busy moving in, he spies boxes outside the door next to his on the third floor, the one which is in a contentious fight between Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosoung. He hovers over the boxes, trying to guess who they belong to when a throat clears from behind him. With a complexion just as perfect as the jerk protagonist, Yoo Mia stares at him like he’s dirt underneath her feet. He blinks, stepping back.
“Oppa,” Yoo Mia rasps on the door before hefting one of the boxes into her arms.
Almost immediately, the door opens to reveal Yoo Joonghyuk, whose gaze flicks to meet his. Yoo Mia enters, ignoring the frizzled tension where Kim Dokja stares with his mouth slightly open at the scene.
“…You bastard,” he says, and Yoo Joonghyuk closes the door in his face.
In Kim Dokja’s original life, the one before ‘Ways of Survival’ manifested into reality, he was best described as a recluse. He didn’t have friends, didn’t do anything social beyond the necessary obligations for his work. It’s no surprise that his persona is just not palatable to the public—even while he rose as a Constellation and became ‘Demon King of Salvation’, he’d more than always garnered more scorn than support. (Yoo Joonghyuk, on the other hand, is a total mystery how he entrances the mobs with his shitty personality.) Kim Dokja can hardly care less about what people think about him, but it becomes a real problem when they turn too much attention to his life. Granted, he’s a ‘Messianic’ figure having died, resurrected, or disappeared and then manifested, but it didn’t warrant so many busybodies gathering outside his house yelling for a statement.
While he was in the hospital, these news reporters or stalkers were kept away with security presence, but now that he’s entered the wild, it apparently becomes free reign to step over his lawn and block the front gate. It’s a weekday afternoon too, where the kids are at school, the adults have their jobs, but since he’s freshly (still) “healing” from his ordeal of piecing his scattered soul together, he’s the only one at home being unemployed. That means that it’s him against these horde of rabid people if he wants to leave the house to get some food. He spies at least five video cameras from behind the curtain of the window and sighs.
If he still had his skills, he’d activate Bookmark for Way of the Wind and get the hell out of here. Unfortunately, none of his skills have worked since he woke up. There’s no attribute window he can browse, no story he can open, no skill he can activate, no dokkaebi bag he can peruse. There is no Fourth Wall. It’s simply back to Kim Dokja and his own existence, which might diminish if he’s to die of hunger from being barricaded into his own home by the public mob.
With a sigh, Kim Dokja takes out his phone and tries to browse for food delivery services, but unfortunately the waiting time on the apps all display a ‘one hour’ minimum due to the peak period. He glances out of the window again, wondering if perhaps he can ask someone in the crowd to get him food, if they’re so obsessed about him.
“Move.”
Kim Dokja startles with the command from behind him, body automatically shifting away from the front door. It’s Yoo Joonghyuk, whom he had no idea was in the house. The other looks pissed off for some reason, although Kim Dokja has to admit it might just be his resting facial expression after knowing the other for so long. Yoo Joonghyuk puts his hand on the doorknob to open it.
“Um, are you sure you want to—“ Kim Dokja starts, but it’s immediately drowned out by excited yelling at the sight of someone coming out of the house.
“Supreme King!” Someone shouts, desperately waving a microphone in their direction. “What are your thoughts about going back to the pro-gaming scene?”
“Yoo Joonghyuk! Any comments on the disappearance of the star stream—”
“As the strongest Incarnation, what are your feelings about—“
“Can you tell us anything more about the living arrangements inside—“
The calls are endless, coming all in at once that it’s hard to follow any particular question, but there’s one that Kim Dokja hears perfectly well.
“Is it true that you handcuffed Kim Dokja in the basement?”
Kim Dokja splutters, sticking his head out from behind the door to glare at the person who asked such a ridiculous question. Unfortunately, it only garners more excitement.
“Kim Dokja! A statement about what you plan to do in the future?”
“Kim Dokja! What do you have to say about Jung Heewon’s refusal to move in?”
“Kim Dokja! There are many who blame you for the disappearance of stigmas, do you agree?“
“Kim Dokja—“
Yoo Joonghyuk turns his head minutely to shower his glare on Kim Dokja, like it’s Kim Dokja’s fault that their eardrums are bursting under the inquisitive onslaught. Before Kim Dokja can say anything, Yoo Joonghyuk walks briskly to the gate. There is a flurry of fighting to push a microphone or recorder closer to the other, who simply digs out his key to unlock the wicket gate for him to pass through. There is a hush of silence when Yoo Joonghyuk steps outside. Without preamble, Yoo Joonghyuk reaches for the closest camera in his face and promptly smashes it onto the ground.
Kim Dokja stares from his position behind the front door as there is yelling and shouting of a different kind now. Yoo Joonghyuk brushes off the hands that try to hold him back like it’s nothing, giving no hint that his stats don’t work for him anymore, and destroys yet another camera. The crowd starts to disperse in panic, especially when Yoo Joonghyuk grabs one of them by their collar and flings him so hard that he tumbles a few metres away. Not wanting to be the next victim, the coast becomes completely clear within the next few minutes, with only Yoo Joonghyuk glaring after the vehicles speeding down the road. Kim Dokja gingerly shuffles out to take a peek at the situation—and then looks at Yoo Joonghyuk when there’s nothing around.
It’s been…an undefinable period of time since they faced each other properly like this. Kim Dokja knows he doesn’t look like his actual age (which again, hard to define) but Yoo Joonghyuk clearly looks a bit different too, with sharper, more mature features and grey patches in his hair. He looks like he’d been on a long journey, one that took a lot out of him. Yet, his face is still stupidly good-looking, and his body is still fit, so Kim Dokja has nothing to feel bad about for him.
“What,” Yoo Joonghyuk narrows his eyes at him.
And of course, still so rude.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” Kim Dokja says, a little accusing. “I sent you a lot of messages via Midday Tryst.”
“It doesn’t work for me anymore,” Yoo Joonghyuk replies evenly.
“I also texted you.” It was one text though—because Kim Dokja has more dignity than to chase after someone who leaves him on read.
“I don’t have your number.”
“You bastard,” Kim Dokja lapses, a growl under his breath. “Everyone’s number is listed in the group chat.”
Yoo Joonghyuk ignores the comment. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Kim Dokja echoes. “I…” he trails off.
It’s not really a want, but isn’t it natural to say ‘hi, how have you been’ after years of being apart? Kim Dokja has done this routine with everyone of the <Kim Dokja’s Company> (save Jung Heewon for now, but he has a plan), and he did miss his companions. Maybe the jerk is too stoic for any kind of emotional processing.
“I wanted to know how you are doing, I guess,” Kim Dokja says.
Yoo Joonghyuk only raises an eyebrow. “You read Han Sooyoung’s novel.”
“Yes? Still reading, actually, it’s really damn long—”
“You have to the end,” Yoo Joonghyuk continues, like he’s very sure. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known the coordinates to this worldline.”
“I…I don’t remember a lot of things after I became the Oldest Dream,” he admits. “It comes back in pieces, but,” he shrugs. “Lee Seolhwa said it would take time. You still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”
“There wasn’t a question.”
Kim Dokja wonders if he has enough strength to strangle Yoo Joonghyuk. “I guess you’re doing fine, I was stupid to ask,” he accedes.
“You are an idiot.”
“It wasn’t an invitation to agree with me, you jerk.”
Yoo Joonghyuk only stares back in silence. Kim Dokja shuffles, feeling awkward at the quiet again. Perhaps it has been too long that he can’t tell what Yoo Joonghyuk wants from him. Judging from that stare or better described as glare, Yoo Joonghyuk is waiting for something. He tries to activate Omniscient Viewpoint, but of course, nothing happens. Fuck the star stream, it only disappears when it’s convenient. Kim Dokja has no choice but to do this the old, hard way.
“Yoo Joonghyuk, about—“
“We need security,” Yoo Joonghyuk says over him.
Kim Dokja stares—because one, the nerve of the guy to interrupt when he’s finally pulled together some words and two, the other is glaring at him like it’s his fault.
(When is it not, in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes?)
“I’m working on it,” Kim Dokja says.
“Hn,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunts. “What’s the problem?”
How easy is it to ask for forgiveness from someone whom you’ve knowingly hurt repeatedly? Especially from someone as passionate and fierce as Jung Heewon? Kim Dokja doesn’t think Yoo Joonghyuk would understand—Yoo Joonghyuk has never asked for forgiveness in any of his regression rounds. He’s too practical for that, and he doesn’t do his companions the disservice of saying sorry for things he deep down doesn’t truly mean.
“…She may not say yes.”
“Have you asked?” Yoo Joonghyuk glowers, unimpressed. “If I have to smash another camera one more time, I’m going to smash your face into the concrete.”
“I said I’m working on it!” Kim Dokja huffs. “If you’re so bothered, why don’t you ask her?”
“It doesn’t mean anything coming from me.” Yoo Joonghyuk answers. “…Idiot.”
It’s a fair criticism, but Kim Dokja’s stomach is growling too much for him to really digest it. He watches the other kick the shattered glass pieces on the pavement to a corner before coming back in the gate.
Kim Dokja has an idea. “Hey, do you want to go and eat something?”
“I don’t eat things made by other people,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, going back into the house.
“You ate the dumpling that I—“
The front door slams in Kim Dokja’s face before he can follow the other.
“…“
After Jung Heewon moves in, they have a house meeting. Han Sooyoung calls it—because Kim Dokja has never lived with that many people in the same house, he’s useless at what it really entails to keep the harmony, or so that’s what Han Sooyoung tells him. It makes sense. There are a lot of common spaces and personal rooms, and rules have to be put in place before a fight breaks out on who touched whose things. Even though their sitting room is rather large, it’s still a feat to get eleven people in the room, especially when there is an argument about who gets to sit where.
Yoo Joonghyuk claims the side of the sofa, which no one argues with. Yoo Mia sits with her brother, and also wants to sit next to Shin Yoosung, who wants to sit next to Kim Dokja. Lee Gilyoung refuses to be left out, so five people squeeze into what should be a three person couch. Han Sooyoung puts herself in the love seat, where no body wants to join. Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung are deliberately not sitting together, with Yoo Sangah between them, on another couch. Lee Jihye chooses to sit on the floor in front of Jung Heewoon. That leaves Biyoo, who sighs and flops herself next to Han Sooyoung. It’s still uncanny for Kim Dokja to look at her and see a feminine reflection of himself.
They go through a list of things that people have raised over the month past. The cleaning rota, where it leads into an argument that they should just hire a part time cleaner. The cooking rota, where it leads into another argument that Yoo Joonghyuk should do it. (“You’re unemployed, so make yourself useful.” “Kim Dokja is also unemployed.” “Do not bring me into this!”) The washing dishes rota, leading into yet another argument. (“I’m not washing if I have to cook. Kim Dokja is unemploy—“ “I fucking get it!”) There’s more on who should be in charge of groceries, or car duty since the kids cannot drive, or the general ‘label your food and do not touch anything else’.
Although most of these things are common sense, but perhaps it’s not so common that they get to deal with these sort of problems. Just years ago, living in a house doing chores with nothing else to worry about was a luxury. Kim Dokja can’t help but think that it’s nice, even if the yelling in the room has gone up to the point where he can’t hear himself speak. It takes twenty more minutes before they decide who gets to do laundry on what day.
“Anything else?” Han Sooyoung asks the group, looking visibly tired at all this.
Lee Jihye raises her hand. “I’m still a minor. I should get pocket money.”
“You’ve already turned twenty,” Han Sooyoung says bluntly. “You have a job.”
“All of you still treat me like one!” Lee Jihye huffs. “If you’re going to call me a kid, then I want the benefits that come with it. Ahjussi—“ she turns to Kim Dokja. “As an adult, you should take responsibility.”
Kim Dokja stares. “…Don’t you have a cut from Han Sooyoung’s novel?”
“I’m just a side character! It’s not as big as yours!”
“If there is to be an adult giving you pocket money, it shouldn’t be me, it should be…” Kim Dokja turns to eye Yoo Joonghyuk.
“We’re in <Kim Dokja’s Company>, are we not?” Yoo Joonhyuk shoots back when he sees the glance.
“You cheap bastard,” Kim Dokja mumbles under his breath. “…Fine,” he sighs after a while. “Yoosung, Biyoo and Gilyoung…I’ll give you some pocket money.” They are his kids, whether legally, by odd birth circumstance, or by their journey together. “Jihye, sorry but you’re an adult, so you don’t count.”
“That’s not fair!”
“What about me?” Yoo Mia interrupts.
Kim Dokja frowns. “Your brother can—“ he starts, but Yoo Mia is looking very expectantly at him, and behind her, Yoo Joonghyuk is giving him a look that dares him to try and refuse. “…Fine.”
Suddenly, the pressure to get a job increases exponentially. Kim Dokja makes a mental note to recheck his residuals.
“Great,” Han Sooyoung claps her hands. “Anything else?” she asks, eyes looking like she’s begging everyone to just shut up so that they can finally end the meeting.
But Shin Yoosung raises her hand this time. “I want to spend time alone with Ahjussi. At least once a week!”
“Yoosung…” Kim Dokja starts, unsure. “We can talk about this later…”
“I asked last week and you said you were busy!”
“Well—“ Kim Dokja winces. He was busy—he’d went to convince Jung Heewon to come back. “We can do it next week—“
“Skivvying on your fatherhood duties, Kim Dokja?” Han Sooyoung grins under her palm. “We shall put in down in law that you have to spend at least one day with Shin Yoosung every week.”
“In law?!”
“What about me?” Lee Gilyoung interjects. “I also want to spend time with hyung!”
Lee Jihye frowns. “If that’s the case, then I also—“
“Wait!” Kim Dokja holds out his hand, sighing. “Look, I…I don’t mind, but I need to look at my calendar—“
“You’re unemployed, Kim Dokja,” Han Sooyoung deadpans. “What the fuck do you have on your calendar?”
Biyoo reaches for the glass jar in the center of the table labeled ‘swear jar’ and hands it to Han Sooyoung.
“Fuck that,” Han Sooyung growls, but she does drop two coins in.
“I’m reading!” Kim Dokja protests. “Weren’t you the one annoying me about finishing your novel? Also, we have to set up the home security,” he looks at Jung Heewon, who gives him a nod, “And we wanted to get lunch together,” he looks at Yoo Sangah, “And we were going to a car dealership,” he looks at Lee Hyunsung, “And I have to go for Biyoo’s parent and teacher meeting—“
“You’re saying you’re very popular, I get it,” Han Sooyung rolls her eyes. “Maybe we should implement the calendar appointment system again for Kim Dokja.”
“No, it’s not fair!” Shin Yoosung cries. “My fingers are not fast enough to book the slots! You saw him five times and I only saw him once!”
Han Sooyung hums, unrepentant. “That’s true. If that’s the case, then we’ll mandate that Kim Dokja has to spend time with each of us equally every week. All in favour, raise your hand.”
Everyone raises their hand, except Yoo Joonghyuk and Yoo Mia, the latter who decides to put her hand up too after some thought.
Kim Dokja’s eyebrows furrow. “It’s not humanly possible,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s like ten of you, well, nine excluding Yoo Joonghyuk—“
“Every two weeks then,” Han Sooyoung declares with a voice that spelled the conclusion. “One day for each of us. “I’ll set up the calendar and you can choose which day you want. Are done? Yes? Dismissed!”
“Ahjussi, I’m going to pick a nice restaurant for you to bring me to!” Shin Yoosung tells him.
Lee Gilyoung’s eyes are glittering. “Hyung, let’s go beetle hunting! I found a nice spot recently, we can even have a picnic there!”
Lee Jihye tugs at his shirt. “Ahjussi, there’s this game I want to buy…”
“Looking forward to it, Dokja-ssi,” Jung Heewon pats his shoulder.
“See you next week, Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah adds, smiling.
“I’ll see you soon, Dokja-ssi,” Lee Hyunsung says.
“I’ll book an appointment, Mr Popular,” Han Sooyoung snickers, already thumbing her phone.
Kim Dokja feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It buzzes non-stop throughout the night.
It’s not as bad as Kim Dokja imagines it to be. Not everyone books an appointment with him immediately. He goes to a trendy cafe with Shin Yoosung, a walking trail with Lee Gilyoung and the mall with Lee Jihye. In subsequent weeks, he sets up security alarms all over the house and installs a new fingerprint lock on all the doors with Jung Heewon, visits Yoo Sangah at her governmental office and goes to buy a car with Lee Hyunsung for the…family. (Han Sooyoung hogs the car from Mass Production Maker, Yoo Joonghyuk has his own fancy sports car that he doesn’t want to share, and there is a dire need to get one big enough to fit most of them in.) It keeps Kim Dokja busy, so it’s totally not his fault that he reads slower than Han Sooyoung updates her novel. He’s also writing comments for every chapter, which she should be grateful for.
“…Kim Dokja,” Han Sooyoung raises her eyebrows when she comes back from her lecture and finds him sitting in her chair in her office. “Who let you in?”
Kim Dokja flicks her university staff ID card at her, which he stole this morning. “I said I was doing you a favour.”
Han Sooyoung snatches it to put it back into her pocket. “What are you doing here? We don’t have an appointment.”
“Can’t I come to see a friend?”
Of course, it’s suspicious that he phrases it that way, but Kim Dokja doesn’t like calling his required quality time with his companions “appointments”. It sounds like it’s his job to do—which he’s not being paid for.
“Let me guess,” Han Sooyoung, shoos him out of the seat, bouncing on it herself when he vacates. “Yoo Joonghyuk is at home and you’re avoiding him.”
Kim Dokja huffs. “I’m not avoiding the jerk. It’s just very annoying that he won’t cook me lunch even though there’s only two of us in the house.”
Han Sooyoung snickers.
“Anyway,” Kim Dokja continues. “These are my comments on chapter 512,” he hands her a stack of of haphazardly stapled post-its. “I did not have a book called [Kim Dokja and the mysteries of sex] in my mind library. Lee Jihye definitely made that up.”
Han Sooyoung squints at the post-its. “Ki m Dok ja is a n idi ot…”
“…Are you trying to copy the Fourth Wall?”
“Did you forget that I was there with all of you?” Han Sooyoung says. “I also found a book called [Kim Dokja and his virginity] but I did you the favour of leaving it out in the novel.”
Kim Dokja flushes. “There’s no such book like that!”
“Oh please, Sangah told me a lot about what was in your library,” she grins. “She didn’t tell me everything, of course, but I can fill in the pieces.”
“The pieces of what?”
“Of how much you would like Yoo Joonghyuk to rail you.”
It’s entirely warranted that he gapes in shock at the random shift in topic. Han Sooyoung thinks he wants to what? When Han Sooyoung bursts into uncontrollable laughter, Kim Dokja steels his expression into something more tiresome.
“Ha ha, very funny,” he deadpans.
“It’s not a joke, Kim Dokja,” she says, in the midst of her laughter. “You had a huge crush on the protagonist jerk for the ten years that you grew up with ‘Ways of Survival’, that much was obvious. It’s my bad, I described his face as too handsome.”
Kim Dokja scowls. “It wasn’t a crush. I just wanted to…be him, that’s all,” he sniffs. “You know how my childhood was like.”
“Yes,” Han Sooyoung says evenly, halting her laughs at the sombre topic. “But, if I had to count the number of times you said something about his face that you desperately want to slap, it’s more than the fingers I have.”
“The jerk has nothing more than his face going for him,” Kim Dokja says, crossing his arms. “I feel sorry for him. Why are we talking about him anyway?”
Han Sooyoung eyes him more critically. “…I’m not one to solve domestic spats, Kim Dokja,” she says finally. “Especially with you and that jerk. But, surely you know why he’s hanging around in the house when you are.”
“What?”
“Tch,” Han Sooyoung clicks her tongue. “Ki m Dok ja is a ver y b ig idi ot…”
“Stop that! It’s very weird!” Kim Dokja hisses. “Just say what you want to say!”
Han Sooyoung sighs. “You are the person who understands Yoo Joonghyuk the most,” she begins. “You’ve read him for ten years, you’ve accompanied him for four, you’ve met all of his regression manifestations, you’ve watched his regression rounds as the Oldest Dream, and you even saw him grow old in one,” she continues. “You’ve read what we had to do to get you back, haven’t you?”
“Briefly. I have to read it again to—“
“Kim Dokja, I spent years of sleep and stress writing the novel to get your attention,” she says, losing patience. “Yoo Joonghyuk on the other hand, he spent years drifting between worldlines before he found Biyoo, and then more years traveling universes to find you. Why would he do that, you think?” she puts it simply. “Now that you’re living in the same house, is it a wonder that he has to be nearby?”
“…You think he’s scared that I’ll disappear?” Kim Dokja asks, incredulous. “Like some sort of separation anxiety?”
Han Sooyoung only stares at him. Kim Dokja has the sense to look appropriately chastised.
“But he—if he’s not arguing with me, then he ignores me! All the time!” he protests. “I tried to speak to him once, and he slammed the front door in my face.”
“You already know he’s a jerk.”
“…That’s true.”
Yoo Joonghyuk is not the kind of person who wants to talk about things. He doesn’t want to talk about the things he’s done, the things that he feels strongly about, or the things that he’s sacrified. He’s also petty, holds stupid grudges, and treats Kim Dokja more harshly and yet more cherished for unexplainable reasons. Kim Dokja may not have Omniscient Reader Viewpoint anymore, but if there is someone he absolutely reads like an open book due to the years devoted to understanding this one person—it is Yoo Joonghyuk.
“I hope we don’t ever have to talk about Yoo Joonghyuk again,” Han Sooyoung says, flicking her hair, annoyed. “But you know how to handle him, so do something about it. I di ot.”
Kim Dokja may have an idea of what he has to do to get Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention, but it doesn’t mean that he has to do it. If Yoo Joonghyuk so desperately wants to ignore that they can have a chat like normal, well-adjusted adults, Kim Dokja is happy to pretend as well. He does absolutely nothing about it, making no fuss that Yoo Joonghyuk has never once made an appointment with him. There is someone else that does make an appointment with him for the first time though.
“You’re the last person I thought would want to hang out with me,” Kim Dokja says when Yoo Mia meets him at the Yoo Joonghyuk - Kim Dokja complex after her classes.
She’s rolls her eyes faintly, brushing her long black hair behind the curve of her ear. Like her blood brother, she has a pale, flawless complexion and a deep set of eyes that judge his existence. With a cock of her head, she gestures for him to follow her. A couple of heads turn their way as they walk, and Kim Dokja adjusts his coat collar to hide his face the best he can. She brings him to a pet store of all places. Kim Dokja is mildly surprised that something like this exists—but he guesses the memory of their struggle to complete sceanrios is still too fresh for him to remember that society has had decades by now to move on. He watches Yoo Mia’s face lighting up at the presence of furry animals. Kim Dokja can’t help but squint at the hamsters in their cages that inevitably remind him of those demon rats.
“Ahjussi,” Yoo Mia comes to a squat behind one particular cage. “I want this one.”
It’s a small kitten, all black and very fluffy. Its slitted yellow eyes are watching them calmly. It’s very cute.
“…A cat?” Kim Dokja repeats. There are no rules in the house about pets—Lee Gilyoung has his beetles, and Shin Yoosung occasionally takes birds home to foster. “Does your brother—“
“Yes,” Yoo Mia says before he can finish the sentence. “Oppa said that I could.” Kim Dokja instinctively reaches for his phone, but she pins him down with a stare. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s better to double check,” he says carefully.
“Aren’t you the head of the house?” Yoo Mia asks, jutting her chin out. “You can make the decision if I can keep it or not.”
Kim Dokja slides his phone back into his pocket. “…Hmm,” he hums. “In that case, tell me why you deserve it.”
Yoo Mia furrows her eyebrows for a second before she eases it out. “I regressed with everyone to find you behind the Final Wall.”
Kim Dokja winces. “…Okay. Fine, you can keep the cat. But you’re in charge of cleaning and feeding it. If it destroys something in the house, your brother has to replace it.”
Yoo Mia’s lips curl. It’s rare to see her smiling sincerely. “Okay.”
Kim Dokja finds out why his presence is needed at the pet store as the staff requires him to show his ID to prove he’s an adult before he pays for the cat and a couple of necessities to go with them, like the food and kitty litter. The ID is a little useless, because he gets recognised as ‘Kim Dokja’ anyway. Yoo Mia huffs in impatience by the door when the staff tries to strike a conversation with him.
“What are you going to name it?” he asks, curious, when he manages to escape.
Yoo Mia hugs the overly large transport cage against her chest. “Dokja.”
“Ha ha,” Kim Dokja says with no inflection. “I know you’re not serious, but why?”
“Oppa will love him more than you.”
“I love him more than me,” Kim Dokja rebuts without thinking, before he realises what he said. “I meant the cat,” he clarifies when Yoo Mia stares at him. “I love the cat more than myself…is what I said. Um. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ahjussi,” Yoo Mia starts with a light in her eyes, like she’d realised something. “You’re quite depressing, you know that?”
Kim Dokja has nothing to say to that. “…It was a joke,” he mutters.
When they get home, Yoo Mia catches him by his sleeve before he exits the car. She hands him a piece of paper and a pen.
“Sign this,” she says.
Kim Dokja looks at the paper, which has a rectangle drawn on it and some words printed that says ‘KIM DOKJA REQUEST COUPON’. Underneath the big words, there is a ‘Can be redeemed to make Kim Dokja do whatever you want, anytime and anywhere.’.
“What is this?” Kim Dokja almost laughs. “Yoo Mia, if you want something, you can just ask me. I am the head of the house after all.”
“Sign it,” Yoo Mia insists. “You still owe me, Ahjussi. I brought you back and everything.”
Kim Dokja sighs under his breath. He’s slightly afraid of what Yoo Mia intends to do with this coupon, but he guesses that it won’t be any different from her asking him a favour sometime down the road. He writes ‘Valid for one request.’ on it before signing it at the corner.
“Don’t go wild with this,” he warns, but Yoo Mia barely hears him after tucking it into her front pocket, busy with bringing Dokja the cat home.
“Kim Dokja.”
Kim Dokja startles badly when hears the low voice behind him. His hand is on his room doorknob, having pushed it open after they all had dinner earlier, fawning over the newest member of the <Kim Dokja’s Company>. Yoo Joonghyuk, the creep, had followed behind him silently and only bothered to speak once Kim Dokja was about to enter his room.
“Christ,” Kim Dokja huffs, putting a hand on his heart. He steps into his room and flicks on the light before turning around. “Thought I was going to get kidnapped or something. What do you want?”
“I did not give my permission for Mia to get a cat,” Yoo Joonghyuk states.
Kim Dokja might have an inkling about this. “…Well, she asked me, not you.”
“I’m her brother.”
“I’m the head of the house,” Kim Dokja says. “I say it’s fine.”
The eyebrows on Yoo Joonghyuk rise before it settles. “…You’ll pay for this, Kim Dokja.”
Ominous words from a creep who managed to sneak up on him. Kim Dokja vaguely fears for his life, then he remembers that they don’t live in a word where Yoo Joonghyuk has some insane stat levels anymore. He does, however, tense up when Yoo Joonghyuk digs into his pocket. The other ends up taking a slip of paper, the very familiar slip of paper where Kim Dokja signed his name on the makeshift KIM DOKJA REQUEST coupon.
“I’m redeeming this.”
“Uh…” Kim Dokja stares. “Now?”
“Yes.”
He’s not entirely sure why Yoo Mia gave it to her brother, or why Yoo Joonghyuk uses it, because normal people would just ask for favours. “…Okay,” he blinks eventually. “What do you want?”
Yoo Joonghyuk steps forward, and it’s intimidating enough that Kim Dokja reflexively steps back. The damn bastard. What makes it worse is that Yoo Joonghyuk steps fully into Kim Dokja’s room, pushes the door close shut behind him, and then flicks it to lock. Kim Dokja belatedly feels a chill down his spine that he’s locked in a room with Yoo Joonghyuk. He hastily glances at the window behind him and wonders if it opens wide enough if he needs to escape for his life.
“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Kim Dokja says.
Yoo Joonghyuk points to the bed. “Sit.”
Gingerly, Kim Dokja sits at the edge. For whatever reason, his eyes graze across his room in case there is something left out in the open that he would rather not have Yoo Joonghyuk see. Luckily, Kim Dokja is not really a messy person—only his desk has multiple books stacked in a shaky pile, and Han Sooyoung’s novel juts from the edge with coloured stickies protruding from it.
“Um…are you just going to stand?” Kim Dokja ventures when the other simply leans against the wall from across him.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Kim Dokja frowns. “So what’s up?”
Yoo Joonghyuk takes a breath in. “Do you remember now?”
“What?”
“The last time, you said you didn’t remember everything,” the other elaborates, tone already gaining an impatient edge. “What about now?”
Kim Dokja blinks. He tries to recall the conversation that Yoo Joonghyuk is referring, but it has been a couple of months since, and it takes a while. “You mean my memories as the Oldest Dream? Yeah…I…I remember it a bit more now,” he accedes.
It’s less of remembering and more like imprints he wakes up with like he’s dreaming.
“So you admit you did hit my head in my 0th regression.”
“I did not,” Kim Dokja huffs—because they’d already argued over this one time during dinner.
[‘Lie Detection’ has confirmed ‘Kim Dokja’s’ words as lies.]
Kim Dokja’s mouth drops open. He’d thought all skills are retired now—but Yoo Joonghyuk just…
“I knew you were a liar,” Yoo Joonhyuk says with a scowl. “Kim Dokja. You promised me this at the end of my 0th regression, when I meet you face to face. Tell me the truth—why did you interfere in my 0th regression?”
Kim Dokja looks away, because he knows he can’t lie when the other has ‘Lie Detection’ still at his fingertips. “…Isn’t it obvious?” he says, sighing. “You know that I became the Oldest Dream after I met you, a character I thought existed in a web novel, in person. I was curious who your sponsor was, and how you were like before you became…this,” he gestures vaguely.
“You didn’t just watch. You masqueraded as a Constellation.”
“I am—…was a Constellation,” Kim Dokja retorts. “I gave you a lot of coins, you bastard.”
“Why.”
“What are you asking, Joonghyuk-ah,” Kim Dokja deliberately drops the formality to annoy the other. “Why I helped you to clear to the end of the scenarios? We’re life and death companions, aren’t we? I wanted you to live a good life, after all the rounds that you didn’t. For once, you could have a happy ending, and I could give you that.”
“You spent a lot of probability,” Yoo Joonghyuk points out.
Kim Dokja knows he’s highlighting the cost that came with it. “Isn’t it a no brainer for someone you care about?”
The expression Yoo Joonghyuk’s face stays impassive. Kim Dokja feels heat creeping up his cheeks for the admission.
“…I wasn’t happy,” Yoo Joonghyuk says finally.
Kim Dokja stares. “What?”
“At the end, you asked if I was happy,” Yoo Joonghyuk tells him. “I wasn’t. Because you interfered, and you made me owe you. Whatever I got in my 0th regression, it wasn’t by my doing. It was yours.”
“It was yours!” Kim Dokja is nearly on the edge of shouting at the ungrateful bastard. “You led the team right, you cleared the scenarios, you got to the end with a retirement that you deserve—“
“Without you there,” Yoo Joonghyuk inserts, and Kim Dokja stills. “It’s been…” he trails off, and it seems like he gives up counting when he continues, “…years, Kim Dokja. I thought you would understand by now.”
‘Years’ is probably the best unit of time they can use. It’s difficult to quantify how old Yoo Joonghyuk is if he counts all his past regressions, or even just the time he spent traversing worldlines before he came back to theirs. For Kim Dokja, it’s the same. Time was ever flowing while he was the Oldest Dream, but at the same time, it stood ever still.
Yoo Joonghyuk then asks another question. “Why did you come back?”
“Didn’t you want me to come back?” Kim Dokja replies, flicking his gaze up. “I heard you spent years looking for me.”
Yoo Joonghyuk is unfortunately undeterred at the jab.
“…I…I don’t fully know,” Kim Dokja admits. “After my soul…split, I…I have impressions left only from then on. I just remember there was a story I read that I really loved, and at the end…the epilogue was unfinished. It said it come here to find out.”
“So you came back for the story,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. “Not for us.”
“I—“ Kim Dokja halts. “You can’t blame me for things that I, as Kim Dokja, not my scattered soul, don’t have conscious free will over,” he says defensively. “Of course I would’ve if I could. I missed everyone, and when I was the Oldest Dream, I wanted to…see everyone again.”
“We came to find you beyond the Final Wall,” Yoo Joonghyuk points out. “You didn’t open the door.”
“Joonghyuk-ah,” Kim Dokja closes his eyes, breath shuddering. “The choices I make can wipe out your—everyone’s—existence. So what if I wanted to open it? If I had, then everything would be gone. What would be the point then?”
“The point is that you would be with us,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, tone angry, like he’s held himself back for far too long. “Kim Dokja, it turns out that as many years as you have lived or will live, you will always be a fool,” he states, glaring like he can turn Kim Dokja into crisp under the heated look. “Haven’t you learnt anything from my 999th regression?” he demands. “Uriel, Lee Jihye, Kim Namwoon, Lee Hyunsung—they became Outer Gods to find the 999th Yoo Joonghyuk. Because everything is meaningless when the most important person is missing. If we had to choose a world without you or no world at all, the choice is clear. Do you understand now, Kim Dokja?”
Kim Dokja swallows. “…If you had to choose a world where I live but you had to watch by the sidelines and do nothing, or no world at all, what would you choose, Joonghyuk-ah?” he asks, turning his head away. “Is the choice clear? Even if I told you I couldn’t live without you, would you still have made me keep on living?”
“I would’ve killed you,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, and Kim Dokja wants to laugh.
But he doesn’t, because Yoo Joonghyuk has crossed the short distance between them to grasp Kim Dokja’s face between his hands. The grip is a little rough and painful, forcing Kim Dokja to look at the other in the eye.
“I hate you,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. “I’ve spent my entire life on you, and you’re asking me if I would be satisfied watching you from the sidelines. No, Kim Dokja,” he says, with feeling. “I would rather die with you.”
This damn protagonist, Kim Dokja fleetingly thinks before his world is consumed by Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth slamming against his own. Kim Dokja’s fingers clench onto the bedsheets to find his purchase as Yoo Joonghyuk kisses him, lips moulding together roughly. Heat collects in Kim Dokja’s face, head becoming fuzzy as the fingers under his chin squeeze him enough to make him open his mouth for a tongue to invade in. He makes a helpless noise at the back of his throat, shuddering tightly against the warm and wet suckle devouring his breath.
When Yoo Joonghyuk releases him, still holding his face still, Kim Dokja licks the saliva that had dripped over his lip dazedly.
“…Oh,” he says, breathing still short. “You like me.”
“Idiot,” Yoo Joonghyuk says, although it doesn’t contain half the disdain it usually does. “You’re the one obsessed with me.”
Kim Dokja huffs. “Whatever lies Han Sooyoung is telling you—“
Yoo Joonghyuk abruptly plants his knee on one side of where Kim Dokja is sitting on the bed, shoving Kim Dokja back down on it. Kim Dokja yelps, and then he yelps some more when Yoo Joonghyuk starts taking off his shirt.
“Wait! W-what—what are you doing?” Kim Dokja squeaks, face going bright red, even though he can’t take his eyes off the muscled naked torso being revealed to him. “We just—we only kissed! You’re going too fast!”
Yoo Joonghyuk only smirks, and then lets his shirt fall back down. “I rest my case.”
“I want to slap your stupid face—“
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” Kim Dokja coughs, struggling to push Yoo Joonghyuk off his lap. “You’ve made your point. I’ve read about you for ten years, and I continued to watch you even when we were apart. You saved me when it mattered, so, yes I am obsessed with you. Are you happy now?” he huffs. “You could’ve just used ‘Lie Detection’ if you really wanted to know.”
“I used the last of the skill earlier,” Yoo Joonghyuk tells him. “And there is one more thing,” he adds.
Before Kim Dokja can ask what, his vision blurs and he finds himself lying flat on the bed with a blooming pain at the back of his head. Fucking hell—if this is Yoo Joonghyuk without stats, Kim Dokja can still die by his hands. He’s still seeing stars floating as Yoo Joonghyuk’s face looms over him.
“I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“You bastard,” Kim Dokja mutters. “What was that for?”
“My 0th regression,” Yoo Joonghyuk says evenly. “You hit me.”
This fucking petty bastard. “We’re even now, right?” Kim Dokja grunts.
“You wish, Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk’s face takes up his vision again. He’s so close that Kim Dokja can taste the threat on his lips. “I spent almost two thousand regressions and hundreds of years looking for you. Your debt is barely paid. Your life belongs to me from now on.”
Kim Dokja hitches his breath, because that is somewhat terrifying. “…Is this your way of dealing with anxiety separation, because—“
Yoo Joonghyuk bites him on the mouth. Kim Dokja has a feeling that it won’t be the last time like this in a long while. Perhaps for two thousand regressions, and hundreds of years.
He can get used to it.