Chapter Text
Dokja didn’t feel any better for the following days. He tried sleeping it off (which he doesn’t get too often), reading TWSA, even taking medicine and supplements that Yoo Sang-ah gave him on a Tuesday morning.
“Dokja-ssi, shouldn’t you take a leave?” the cubicle next door asked in concern.
Dokja was vaguely aware that he looked worse lately but smiled, shaking his head, saying he’s okay. His coworker left it at that but somehow, he feels her gaze on him every now and then. Dokja shook it off and continued playing the game on his monitor while his gaze drifts and blurs intermittently. At one point, he pulled on his eyeglasses, thinking his eyes were strained.
As lunchtime rolled in and Dokja stood up from his desk to go to the cafeteria, his eyes momentarily blacked out and he wobbled. His neighbor thankfully caught him and helped him to steady himself.
“Are you really okay? You've been like this since Monday.”
“Yes, yes. Thanks.”
He wasn’t lying when he said that. Dokja really thought he was okay, just more exhausted than usual. When his colleague offered to take him to the clinic, he declined politely, saying he had meds after lunch. Dokja was bewildered as he went to the cafeteria with this person— she tagged along him— a first. He couldn’t really say how he felt about that, other than it was uncomfortable.
He didn’t say anything but didn’t pull away, either. For some reason, he felt the presence alien but also supporting. It baffled him enough to not know how to react. As they line up with their trays (the coworker still lingered behind him), Dokja was feeling sore all over, his knees weak, and his head spinning violently. Out of nowhere, he felt very warm hands on either side of his arms, gripping him tightly. He turned around to see that coworker. Before he could open his mouth to ask what she was doing, she spoke first.
“Gosh, you’re wobbling! You’re not okay,” she said firmly.
Dokja couldn’t refute because his head was foggy, and a hit of nausea flooded him. The woman wrenched out the tray from his hands and returned it to the table beside them, pulling him along. The next moments went by like a blur. Dokja could barely remember entering Yoo Sang-ah’s office with his coworker who looked at him like he was an idiot.
“I don’t think he’s even fully conscious—”
“You’re very stubborn, Kim Dokja—”
“Dokja-ssi, I told you, it’s okay to file a leave—”
“I doubt he’s hearing you—”
Kim Dokja grimaced as his consciousness blurred in and out, like he was on very strong analgesic medicine. The next thing he knew, he was out of the building, his coworker on his left, and Yoo Sang-ah on his right, flagging down a taxi for him. His coworker pushed him to the backseat as Yoo Sang-ah instructed the driver with words he couldn’t make out.
“Hey, listen to me—” the coworker tapped him.
“When you get home, change clothes—”
“Take a nap—”
“Heat up that soup—”
“Take medicine—”
“Sigh. Are you even listening—”
“I didn’t even care for my brother this much—”
Yoo Sang-ah’s face came into view as she tucks something in his bag, followed by the rustling of plastic. The door snapped shut and Dokja peeked out on the window, waving. For a second, he saw both women sighing exasperatedly, palm on forehead and fingers pinching nose bridges.
Dokja couldn’t figure out how many minutes he stayed leaning against the window of his seat, the ride didn’t do anything to alleviate the dizziness he was feeling, and the smell of cheap air freshener in a closed, stale, and small space made him want to vomit.
Dokja couldn’t remember the last time he felt this sick. He thought he had left himself adequately healthy (his conscience couldn’t just say healthy because of ramyeon and coffee diet), because no one would be there to take care of things for him. He relinquished to the fact that getting sick occasionally was not too strange before he could even think more deeply about his reasons.
As Dokja stumbled home, it became increasingly apparent to him that he was sick. His sight blurred and unfocused badly that he needed to feel his way to the bedroom. He wanted to plop to the bed immediately but he remembered his colleague’s words and struggled to change clothes. A shiver ran through him as his skin met the air, affirming once again of the sad state he was in.
Dokja climbed to the middle of the bed and crawled under the sheets. The mass of the heavy duvet provided enough warmth to wrap himself in and fight the shiver that came from within. With a heavy head, he closed his eyes to sleep. The bedroom was tranquil with his quiet breathing and occasional grunts. The isolation felt sad and lonely as sickness always makes one feel.
He didn’t know how long he has been sleeping, but Dokja woke up to a dark room and twilight seeping from the windows. He felt a little better, enough to peel the sheets off of his sweat-drenched self and acknowledge the rumbling of his stomach. He vaguely remembered the tub of soup Yoo Sang-ah got from the cafeteria and went to find his bag.
There it was, crumpled in the corner of his door: his bag. He sighed softly and took it, zipping it open. The plastic bag contained a tub of soup like he expected, but curiously, there was also a small container of side dishes. A grateful chuckle escaped him and he turned to the kitchen, making a mental note to thank both Yoo Sang-ah and that coworker tomorrow.
Dokja cooked himself some rice that he submerged into the soup and enjoyed with the side dishes and kimchi that he got from the supermarket. It occurred to him before, although he thought of it only lightly, but the sickness made the loneliness profound as he ate alone. He normally didn’t mind but as he ate, his throat constricts into a hot, sore movement that made swallowing difficult. It was as though the space echoed the fact that within the four corners of his apartment, no other warmth was present other than his.
Dokja’s hand reached out reflexively towards his phone— an instinct built when the emptiness starts to make itself known, but something in him pulled back. These days, he couldn’t admit, but reading was not as easy as it once was. He felt guilt towards the thought. Dokja loves reading, and it would probably never change. However, these days, as the chapters of TWSA remained unopened, stacking like papers collecting dust, Dokja found it hard to make himself read.
Something lodged itself in his heart that he kept ignoring, one that nags his mind whenever he opens the reading site and makes him close it again. He could probably guess what it was.
Yoo Junghyuk. Or the one in the flesh he keeps remembering him by.
When Dokja finally reached out to the phone, he didn’t open the reading site. He opened that app where he first heard that voice. The voice that he associated with the words on the novel that makes him feel alive. Coincidentally, the official account of the team that man is in was doing a LIVE. Out of curiosity and anticipation, Dokja entered the room.
A barrage of chats flooded his screen and Dokja’s dizziness came back for a moment. He couldn’t understand how people could watch like this. As he took a moment to make out the face from behind the blur, a pang of disappointment was over him as he saw a different man’s face.
[LIVE: (Lee Sung) Goal: Top 100]
[abcd123: Sungie-ah, only 100? How humble]
[qwerty098: are you using tank]
[nomanisanisland: use a different role]
[‘nomanisanisland’ donated 5 roses!]
[“Thanks, nomanisanisland for the roses,”] a slight smile appeared on the burly man from behind the screen. It looked innocent on his mature face that made fans dote on him.
Dokja sighed and was about to close the LIVE when he noticed a comment he was interested in.
[captainyjh’s#1fan: Sungie-ah, is captain thereeee]
[captainyjh’s#1fan: tell him to show his faceee]
Lee Sung seemed to notice it as he chuckled slightly.
[“Everyone’s in the same room because this is our practice room. But Captain is playing so I can’t show him to you.”]
Dokja’s finger that hovered to Leave slowly receded and instead, he stared at the unfamiliar face on the screen, wondering to himself what he was doing.
[hyuk-hyung: he was so cool during that conference]
[justafan: he’s always cool, tho]
[mustangbananasauce: agreed]
[“I agree too.”]
[yjhyjhyjh: he ate up the reporters that day, kkkk]
[lee11: but is minyoung-unnie really leaving?]
[captainyjh#1fan: don’t ask or you’ll get scolded by captain]
[lee11: oops… *closes mouth*]
[“Speaking of scolding…”] Lee Sung trailed off. [“I heard Captain scolded someone from the venue. He came back with this stern look.”]
[namwoonie: oh? Who was the unlucky person]
[sungieeeily: probably a reporter]
[“I don’t think so. Captain said they weren’t.”]
Dokja’s heart thumped at the words. Remembering their interaction that day made him dizzy in a different way.
Did he remember… me? Or was it a passing remark?
[“I remember him saying that the person was unusual.”]
[yjhyjhyjh: gasp a sasaeng?]
[captainyjh’s#1fan: not on my watch!]
[“Oppa, what are you talking about?”] a cheery voice sounded from the background before it revealed the new member, Lee Hyeji. The chats exploded for a moment and Dokja was genuinely nauseated by the quick barrage.
[“Nothing much. Remember the conference, and that Captain came across an unusual person?”]
[“Sure, I do. But rather than unusual, it was more like…”]
Hyeji trailed, as if finding a better word for it. She looked towards the camera with an intrigued smile.
[“You know when the enemy team is going for the Baron and Captain will sneak to steal it, but he’s a little wary with the enemy jungler? He had that kind of face back then. Sometimes, he still remembers.”]
Dokja stilled at the words he heard. Somehow, eating his dinner felt lighter now, and swallowing came easier as he listened.