Chapter Text
“Kim Dokja is dead.”
They were still there. Most of Seoul had left after the funeral but Kim Dokja’s party chose to remain by his grave. They surround it, eyes red with tears, and watch. ‘He’ll be back.’ They reassure each other. They crowd around the empty patch of dirt in Gwanghwamun Square. Lee Hyunsung clings to Li Gilyoung as they weep, small hand kneading his shirt as the younger frantically tries to claw his way to the grave. Jung Heewon kneels silently next to a screaming Lee Jihye and strokes her hair with one arm while she hugs a bawling Shin Yoosung with the other. Yoo Sangah feels her heart break as she’s drops to the ground on trembling legs.
“Sangah-ssi!” Lee Hyunsung breaks into a run and lift her up into his arms.
Yoo Sangah takes a moment to sink into his warmth. When Yoo Jonghyuk had come for her she had feared for the worst. Why else would he be the one to rescue her? Kim Dokja would never abandon his companions, and that mentality had seeped into the rest of his group. She wasn’t blind, the idea of no man being left behind was honorable but foolish, even Kim Dokja couldn’t save everyone on that subway. But still, a part of her believed that he would come for her. A shameless knight in white and his eclectic band of loyal friends. But he didn’t. Instead, it was Yoo Jonghyuk that killed her captures and untied her.
“Kim Dokja is dead.”
The first words he said to her may as well have killed her. Yoo Sangah feels a stab of resentment at the memory. Even as the others join Lee Hyunsung in embracing her, she can’t shake the ugly emotion. The image of Yoo Jonghyuk staring down at her with that blank face as her world shatters is salt on her wounds. The man was lucky. He was alive. His sister was alive. His lover was alive. And he didn’t feel a thing when the man who made that possible was dead.
“Where is he?”
Lee Jihye sniffles before pointing to the grave. There was even a head stone. It wasn’t the prettiest, it looked like someone had just grabbed a piece of concrete and hit it until it was shaped appropriately. Yoo Sangah wouldn’t be surprised if that was what happened. Why use a chisel and hammer when a fist and a skill would have the same effect for less effort?
Lee Hyunsung carries her to the grave. He sets her down gently and Jung Heewon rushes to her other side. Together, they lower her into the kneeling position. Yoo Jonghyuk stares for a moment before he kneels next to her. He raises a steady hand and gently runs it over the shallow grave. Dirt slowly brushes away to reveal the top of a crude wooden coffin. His hands hesitate before resting on the uneven wood. Yoo Sangah chokes back another sob and places her own hand next to his. It was cold. And damp. The only warmth she could feel was Jung Heewon’s arms wrapped around her and the Yoo Jonghyuk’s hand next to hers.
“Master.” Lee Jihye blubbers as she staggers after them. “Master, where’s Seolhwa-unni? She needs to come and heal ahjussi.”
Yoo Jonghyuk doesn’t answer her so Yoo Sangah takes a breath. “Seolhwa-ssi is with Sookyung-ssi. She was badly hurt.”
“She need to come here!”
Lee Jihye grabs Yoo Jonghyuk and shakes him. Lee Gilyoung grabs his other arm and screams unintelligible words. Yoo Jonghyuk is as still as stone but Yoo Sangah crumples. A high pitched keen escapes her mouth and she collapses forward. It’s too much. All of this is too much. Jung Heewon calls out her name but she can’t hear her above her wailing. Great sobs wrack her body as she rests her head on the dirt before passing out.
“Kim Dokja is dead.”
She doesn’t know how long she stays like that. She wraps her grief around herself and for the first time since the scenario started lets herself feel. The other times there had been no time for grief. Kim Dokja had died and shock and vengeance had carried her through until his resurrection. Grief would have to carry her this time. He will be back.
He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back. He will be back.
“You said…” she finally whispers.
“He will.” He can’t promise that. “He must.”
Yoo Sangah stares at Yoo Jonghyuk and truly takes in him. She stares at his scars. At the bags starting to form under his eye. The firm line his lips make as the press together. All the little details that are revealed in the sun and not hidden by the harsh shadows of her cell.
‘Oh.’ She realizes. Kim Dokja had always looked to this man first. He may not of done so with his eyes, but every scenario, every change in location, every time he just appeared the first thing he would ask-
“... Where is Yoo Jonghyuk now?”
She remembers the almost (not almost, definitely) smug beam Kim Dokja had directed at Yoo Jonghyuk during the third scenario. The utterly baffled look Yoo Jonghyuk had sent back. The way annoyance had turned to confusion, to rage, to trust, to annoyance, to grief, back to annoyance and finally settling on…. not quite fond. It wasn’t gentle enough to be fond, but there was something… Faith. Yoo Jonghyuk had looked at Kim Dokja like he held the world in his palms and could deliver it. With absolute belief in Kim Dokja’s Kim Dokjaness.
“He will.” She acknowledges.
Because, even if he wouldn’t return for his friends, he would return for him.
“Kim Dokja is dead. However, he will live again.”