Chapter Text
Kim Dokja originally thought that like any other day, little would occur as he walked home from the town's bakery. It was a habit he had grown accustomed to, going to the bakery after whatever work he could land for that month, and bringing food for his friend Yoo Sangah as they walked together. She had repeatedly gone out of her way to not use the train so she could walk with him, and he would always enjoy sharing bread, or whatever the bakery would serve that day – though bread was the only thing he could readily afford most of the time – as they shared in their light exercise. The wind sang a beautiful melody as the trees danced, blocking the view of the bright blue stage above the town. The cold air, but bright sun marked the finally-ending winter, and promised for a beautiful springtime in its wake.
Despite Kim Dokja's lower class life, he worried about very little in life. The only thing his thoughts were plagued by would simply be ideas of reading. What book would he be able to lay his hands on, when could he search the town's library for the next new gem that might capture his interests? Some could probably assume based on this fact that he threw his life away. That he threw away whatever opportunities he had to be a refugee, constantly running away from his past and using reading as his means of escape from his own life, rather than search for a bigger meaning to his existence. What could he even search for though? His past life meant nothing, it was nothing to be proud of, had nothing in it to be shared – in fact, if he did share it, he would probably be ostracized from the new life he had finally earned himself.
Kim Dokja, as it was, had little regret for choosing this life, as reading the stories of others was what had given his existence meaning. To him, that was truly his reason for continuing to live. As small as that existence sounded, it was something that perhaps only he could take pride in – and for that, it was worth it, even if just to him.
Upon that self-reflection, Kim Dokja came to notice that he could see Yoo Sangah in the distance, holding her purse and a loose paper in her hands, pristinely undisturbed by the wind. He could feel a smile form upon his face as he walked closer to her, a small basket of bread in his own hands. As always, she was lovely. Finally standing in front of her, he made a small bow, earning a chuckle from her in return. Kim Dokja didn’t always have much care for honorifics, but he had always made it a point to treat Yoo Sangah with distinct respect, just as she did for him… though both she and him treated this as an inside joke amongst friends, rather than something serious.
“I’d picked this up for you,” she said, holding the paper out towards him, “some people near my shop seemed to be hiring. It’s a temporary job, but seems like something you could probably do… Ah, sorry, I shouldn’t say that.” Kim Dokja glanced down at it, some servants were apparently needed for some upper class party. A depressing chuckle came from him upon seeing the words upon the flyer, but nothing he could blame Yoo Sangah for, of course.
“Ah, I’m not sure, Sangah-ssi…” The meek statement poured out before Kim Dokja could properly think of what he wanted to say, grabbing the paper and taking a closer look despite his hesitance. Working personally for others was of little interest to him, if any at all. As much as he didn’t really care for careers or anything, he enjoyed working with a multitude of people when he did have the chance… It made him think about all the different stories they had lived, like he did. Maybe such a childish belief was simple idiocy, considering he wasn’t even that good at socializing, but even so, it was one of the reasons he enjoyed working different jobs sometimes. Would working as a servant enhance that experience, getting to serve more pristine people, or would he be reduced to washing dishes? He really didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a chance he would be interested in taking.
Even so, it was a temporary job, something he could put behind him if the short time he could secure wasn't enjoyable for him. He glanced back up at Yoo Sangah after skimming some of the details on the sheet, before quickly folding it and putting it in his pocket; now holding up his own gift of bread for the two to share as they partook in their peaceful time together.
Today seemed particularly quiet, clouds now revealing themselves throughout the blue canvas of sky above, surrounding the town and littering shadows haphazardly over the village. Soft footsteps were pitting and patting upon the concrete below. The bread, smelling of rosemary and thyme, sweet and airy on Kim Dokja’s tongue added to his current contentment, though he did wish he had grabbed a drink at the bakery. Although the bread didn’t leave him feeling dehydrated, his tongue still felt dry upon finishing it. It seemed as though Sangah was experiencing the same, slowing down her eating upon almost finishing, perhaps even saving it for later once she had gotten home and gained access to a proper drink.
It didn’t seem to be much soon after that Yoo Sangah suddenly stopped and shot an apologetic look towards Kim Dokja. “Ah, I actually need to stop here, I’m,” she paused, visibly thinking over her words, “meeting somebody.” Of course. Kim Dokja only gave her a smile and a nod before continuing his walk and waving to her in farewell, still feeling her gaze on him as he met the end of the street and grinning at her once more before turning the corner.
Quickly after turning the corner, he absentmindedly went to remove the 'now hiring' paper from his pocket to further peruse its information. He had made it a habit from reading whilst doing… anything, to multitask when walking along the paths; he quickly realized, however, that his pocket held more resistance than expected, forcing a grunt from the man as his fingers struggled to properly grip the paper in order to remove it from its confines. He only spared a couple glances at his struggling hand at first before he finally dragged his attention away from the sidewalk in front of him to glare at the denim fabric. Swayed by his scowl, the pocket surrendered its hold.
Unfortunately for Kim Dokja, as he removed the flyer from his pocket, his nose met with a hard chest, causing him to nearly fall before the tall, buff stranger grabbed his shoulder and steadied him. Kim Dokja couldn’t even look up at the stranger, as he was quickly being turned the way he came, the hand steadying him wrapped around his back and lay on the opposite shoulder.
“Be quiet,” Kim Dokja heard a deep voice mutter, before he could feel the hand on his shoulder give a firm squeeze and drag him along, the stranger pushing him forward. He struggled to turn his head back, straining slightly to resist the large stranger’s hold, and was met with a very handsome, chiseled face. The large man looming over him gave the smaller man no time to take in his appearance as he quickly manhandled him forward, running as an audible ‘boom’ blasted behind them, receiving no reaction from any passerby, and a shriveling heat suddenly reached the pair’s backs. The paper crumpled in Kim Dokja’s surprised grip, barely able to keep up with, nor resist, the stranger’s pace.
It seemed as though it took the stranger all the restraint in his body to stop and glare at the smaller when he heard Kim Dokja yelp out a “Stop!” Ignoring the glare, Kim Dokja turned away to see black flames flowing throughout the shadows, carelessly painted around them by the sun’s absence, the inky wisps desperately chasing the two. The fierce gaze on him followed his sight to the flames as well, but unlike Kim Dokja’s panicked expression, the stranger’s eyes were cold, observing, and calculating; his face akin to a mask, unmoving. The dark gaze turned back to Kim Dokja, but he couldn’t offer any reaction. He wanted to run, to sprint away from whoever this tall man was, to look for Yoo Sangah maybe— no, just run home.
The sharp tugs at his shoulder were barely able to snap him out of his terrified daze. Still, he was petrified, only sparing a quick glance up at the taller man beside him, the masses of shadow quick to steal away his attention once more. “Idiot.”
With that simple word, Kim Dokja felt himself being picked up and shoved onto the stranger’s shoulders, so he screeched out a “Hey!” The tall man did seem to wince slightly at the shrill yell, but paid it no mind… jumping atop the rooftop to the right of them. Kim Dokja could notice now how weightless he felt in the stranger’s arm, his existence small – like a pebble, as the dark flames followed after them, struggling to keep up with the pair. He couldn’t even focus on their surroundings, feeling like he was flung through the air, this maniac being the only thing keeping him from falling. The rapid motions made him nauseous as everything around him became a blur.
Any time he would struggle, he found himself freezing in fear of falling, and every time he asked the man to stop, he was ignored. The man only stared at the flames as they had finally begun to retreat, the sun beginning to shine down once more. A small tap on the stranger’s back finally got him to stop, and Kim Dokja suddenly felt his feet reach solid ground as the two dropped back onto the sidewalk. He wasn’t even sure what to say once the man put him down. Thank him? Scream at him? The man must have been a wizard, of that he was certain, so yelling at him or insulting him would probably get him killed.
Actually, no, as far as he was aware, killing people with magic was just as illegal as killing people without magic… right? So should he be worried about getting cursed then? The wizard didn’t even move as Kim Dokja gathered his senses, only glaring at the smaller man before him. The wizard just saved him, right? It didn’t make sense for the man to curse him immediately after saving him. Unless maybe that magic chasing them was staged? No, that would particularly be ridiculous. It seemed like a waste of power. Even if Kim Dokja had no idea how magic worked, that seemed needlessly unnecessary to meet such a simple man like himself. Either way, Kim Dokja wouldn’t have to deal with this if he never crossed paths with the man and bumped into his very firm chest, so it was only right to thank him.
“Tha–”
“The paper,” the man interrupted.
...Huh? Kim Dokja held up the flyer so the man could look over it. “Ah, are you interested in it? I’d never worked for royalty, you can take it if you’d like.” Did this man really just rescue him for the sake of a job opportunity?
He didn’t know why he was being so polite, maybe simply due to the fact he knew this man was a wizard; any magic user could be dangerous if you ever get cross with them, or so he had heard. The stranger did seem to soften his gaze slightly upon hearing his words, but made no move for the paper, only looking it over for a moment before glancing back at Kim Dokja, back at the paper, then back at him again.
“Name.” The man’s voice suited his looks, Kim Dokja noticed. Nice to listen to, nice to look at, but offered absolutely no substance. Even his outfit was mostly made up of cold, dark greys, the only exception being the mauve trench coat painting his back and sleeves.
“Kim Dokja,” the shorter man responded, mimicking the man’s attitude towards him before he could stop himself. “Yours?”
Tall, gruff, emo protagonist man didn’t respond to that, only making a small 'tch' noise as he walked forward, bumping into Kim Dokja and nearly shoving him back to the ground again with the amount of force he hit him with. An odd sense of deja vu creeped up Kim Dokja’s spine as the man walked away.
“What a jerk,” he muttered quietly to himself. After that 'detour' Kim Dokja found his feet aching in response to the extended time it took to reach his small apartment. At first, he enjoyed seeing all his fellow civilians making their routes along the streets, the different buildings he didn’t take much notice of before, but eventually it all became a familiar blur as his tiredness became more and more apparent.
When Kim Dokja finally stood on a familiar street, he noticed how enamouring the sky was. Made up of many dark purples and oranges, vast and empty. Stars only just started to reveal themselves against the darkness, bright lights, as the moon hid behind a cluster of clouds. The dingy, ugly structure he called home stood out from the night sky, a blemish against the beautifully perfect canvas.
His apartment had always been pretty empty, always ready to be packed up in the span of an hour, but today it seemed particularly vacant. Loneliness. He recognized the feeling, but there was nothing he could nor would do about it. Everybody he had loved was now gone from his life, and he had nobody to turn to, if he tried, he would be pushed away.
The ache in his heart, his feet, his eyes… His entire body seemed to scream and reach out for the bed without his own bidding. It was probably due to his exhaustion from his exciting day, but at that moment, plopping into that messy bed, he felt relief.
He didn’t think he had ever felt so comfortable in his own bed that night.