Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Out of nowhere, limodorum sparks materialise and crackle violently. A deep, reverberating sound echoes in the wide clearing, like heavy, heavy bass in a dubstep festival. The frizzling sparks start gravitating towards one another, growing and merging until eventually forming a violet oval. Chaotic energy seeps out of the paper-thin oval, heavy and unstable, causing it to ripple.

A vantablack boot emerges from the portal. 

Wasting no time, a man takes a resolute step forward, out of the shifting mass of sparks and into tangible reality. A pair of scrupulous eyes dart around, searching and searching and—

Not even a second passes before he finds what he has long been looking for, being choked half-to-death.

"Get your fucking hands off of him."

Yoo Joonghyuk stiffens, hands still wrapped around Kim Dokja’s ivory throat as his head snaps towards the eerily familiar voice. The two companions had gotten into another dispute. After chasing the self-destructive rat bastard for the better half of an hour, Yoo Joonghyuk finally had the squid where he wanted him. 

So, how dare he be interrupted from exacting virtuous retribution? 

The protagonist directs his scalding glare to the meddler, ready to cut down the stranger with a voice so intimately familiar to him, and then stills.

A carbon copy of Yoo Joonghyuk stomps towards them, a murderous expression twisting his stunning features. Yoo Joonghyuk keeps a hand on the back of Kim Dokja’s neck, keeping him in place, and draws his glimmering blade. Kim Dokja only stares, eyes wide and almost bulging as two Joonghyuks square up. Oddly, he feels a strange sense of déjà vu at what was unfolding before him.

[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ is watching the confrontation with interest.]

A scowl settles on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face at the constellation’s name. His protagonist intuition tells him that he is behind whatever this is.

‘Fakehyuk’, he aptly names the impostor, pulls out his own sword and immediately moves to stab him. A dirty move, really, but truthfully, he'd have done the same. The two begin their vicious dance of blades, slicing and stabbing at any and every weak point. A twist of the hand here, a shove of the hilt there. Anything to cut the other down.

Their swords continue to clash, the screech of metal piercing the air, but the next moment their blades meet, Fakehyuk throws all his weight into it.

Yoo Joonghyuk gets pushed back a little too roughly, ramming into Kim Dokja. The latter lets out an endearing little oof, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes immediately dart to him. In Yoo Joonghyuk's momentary lapse of focus, Fakehyuk knocks his sword away, sending the sword clattering off to the side. 

The protagonist only manages to suck in a breath before coming face-to-face with a fist. 

Fakehyuk’s fist lands squarely on Yoo Joonghyuk’s cheek, launching him several meters into the air and into the coarse soil. 

Now alarmed, Kim Dokja activates his bookmark and pulls out his sword, moving to protect his life and death companion. 

Only to be shoved towards a built chest.

Kim Dokja could only flail around helplessly as he was being suffocated, trapped in a crushing embrace. The more he struggled, the more the muscular arms tightened around him, as a snake would around its prey.

This has got to be the strangest killing method yet, Kim Dokja absentmindedly thinks. But then Fakehyuk buries his nose in Kim Dokja’s hair, inhaling his very essence before letting out a deep sigh. 

“It’s really you.”

…? 

“Oh, gods…” he quietly mutters against Kim Dokja’s hair.

Well.

Um.

The first thing Kim Dokja deduces is that he’s not being murdered. The second thing is that he’s being… hugged.

Yoo Joonghyuk hugging him? It’s a little too OOC for his taste.

Though, he can't help but wonder if this Yoo Joonghyuk knows the Kim Dokja of his word line. What was he like? What did he do? Were they the same, or did he not suffer as he had?

He wants to know of his other self because the regressor somehow recognises him. And so, he tells him just that.

The taller male only chuckles in response, nuzzling further into Kim Dokja’s raven strands. The latter makes a confused sound at that, startled. A fuzzy feeling tickles Kim Dokja’s insides, and he can’t help but find this cuddly Yoo Joonghyuk to be unbelievably cute. Objectively, of course.

「 K im Dok ja a nd den ial. 」

The Fourth Wall pipes up, and Kim Dokja rapidly feels his mood souring.

「 Na me a more ic onic duo. 」

His lips twitch downwards, obviously wondering if the Fourth Wall is faulty and, if so, where he could get it fixed. Why did he have such a buggy ability anyway?

The Fourth wall bristles at that, and Kim Dokja mentally files that reaction away for future reference.

A content sigh snaps Kim Dokja out of his thoughts, Yoo Joonghyuk now nuzzling his cheek against the reader’s head, messing up his hair in the process.

“Demon King of Salvation,” he begins, “you were a constellation in my worldline. For some inexplicable reason, you chose to help me by giving me information even the Star Stream didn’t know.” 

He starts caressing the shorter male’s head fondly, and Kim Dokja shivers slightly at the affectionate way he is handled.

“You made sure that I had everything I wanted—well, your idea of what I wanted, anyway. My dear sister, a perfect lover—even a family. You made this nightmare of mine a pleasant dream instead, yet you never granted me the one thing I truly desired.”

Kim Dokja tilts his head up, eyes locked in a midnight gaze. 

“And what did you want?” Kim Dokja softly asks, head tilting to the side.

“You,” he answers, cupping Kim Dokja’s cheek with one hand and placing the other on a slim hip. The tenderness in those dark eyes is unmistakable, and Kim Dokja subtly sucks in a breath.

[The Fourth Wall is shaking.]

No, you’re not, Kim Dokja petulantly thinks as Yoo Joonghyuk continues running his fingers up and down his cheek. Also, were calluses supposed to feel that good against bare skin?

“You’d never let me see you, no matter how much I’d asked,” he continued, “so I tried to become better and better so that you’d finally let me.” 

A bitter smile plays on the ends of his lips. “I never got to, of course.”

Kim Dokja looks away, feeling a slight twinge of guilt. For what? he questions, it’s not like I did anything.

“Eventually, a strange constellation offered me a deal: meeting you in return for a favour. And that’s how I got here,” he finishes, humming in satisfaction.

Enveloped by the protagonist, a comfortable silence settles. 

Kim Dokja really didn't know what to make of this Yoo Joonghyuk. Was he always this affectionate, for starters? He could’ve sworn that Yoo Joonghyuk had always been a cold tsundere bastard, but this Yoo Joonghyuk is acting way too lovey-dovey for it to be considered normal.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” he starts, “-ah,” he tacks on the suffix. He doesn’t miss the glimmer in the man’s eyes,

“Which regression are you currently on?” 

Tilting his head like an oversized husky, he mumbles, “Regression? As in what?”

Kim Dokja has to take a few seconds to process that. Then his eyes widen to the size of baseballs, his mouth forming a prominent ‘o’.

“Don't tell me… you haven't regressed?!”

“I don't believe so, no.”

“???”

“Wha…?”

“The 0th regression Yoo Joonghyuk, I can’t believe it…” Kim Dokja says, speaking more to himself than to anyone else, really.

“What’s with this regression nonsense?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, and Kim Dokja proceeds to summarise the whole ‘horror of regression’ thing to him. Yoo Joonghyuk only stares, eyes open in shock and words punctuated by flabbergasted sounds at random intervals.

“So, he’s me from the 3rd regression?” He points at the half-conscious Yoo Joonghyuk further away. 

“Precisely.”

“And the constellation who brought me here is the one from my presumably last regression—the only one who survived the apocalypse.”

“More or less.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looks at Kim Dokja like he just found out Santa isn’t real. “And how do you know of all this?”

“Oh, boy, that’s a story for another time.” Kim Dokja doesn’t necessarily want to tell this soft version of Yoo Joonghyuk that his life is a lie. Having to explain that the man’s entire reality stems from a webnovel is a problem for future Dokja, not him.

Besides, he’s still being hugged by Yoo Joonghyuk. And he doesn’t know how much longer he can function in this… state.

“Hey, can you let me go?” Kim Dokja tries nudging him away, but the arm around his waist tightens instead. He exhales in resignation.

“Then, can I call you Hyuk-ah? Just to differentiate.”

Yoo Joonghyuk, or rather, Hyuk-ah perks up at that. He makes an affirmative sound, humming pleasedly. 

Suddenly, the real (?) Yoo Joonghyuk stands up, straightening out his coat and directing a livid glare at Hyuk-ah. 

“You—”

“Stay back, you scum,” Hyuk-ah spits venomously. He shifts around, moving Dokja until—Kim Dokja finds himself plastered to Hyuk-ah’s side, thigh-to-shoulder, trapped in a side-hug?

“You were choking the Demon King of Salvation!” Hyuk-ah continues, absolutely furious, “How dare you?”

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ says it wasn’t what it looked like!]

The immersion is broken by the constellation’s intrusion.

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ states that this is foreplay normal behaviour between the companions.]

“Normal behaviour—?!”

Hyuk-ah only grows more agitated, obviously concerned about his dearest constellation, and rightfully disturbed by the fact that said constellation was being bullied by an alternate version of himself. 

Yoo Joonghyuk exhales, calming down, and begins thinking. Fakehyuk was, for some inexplicable reason, emotionally attached to Kim Dokja. It would not do well to separate him from his companion, and Dokja does not seem to be in any imminent danger either. So, in theory, it should be all right for whatever this is to occur for the time being.

So, Yoo Joonghyuk opts, for once, to diffuse the situation instead of murdering it. (Kim Dokja wouldn’t stop gaping like a fish, like what happened was some sort of miracle; it ticks him off, like anything that man usually does.)

Besides, how disruptive can a Yoo Joonghyuk, certified lone wolf, even be?

Very, apparently. Fakehyuk (he will not use Kim Dokja’s awful nickname) will not leave Kim Dokja. The only times they’re separated is when Dokja has to tend to basic hygiene but besides that? Wherever that sacrificial fool went, he would very literally be attached to him.

It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is. 

How are they supposed to plan for the scenarios and save this godforsaken planet with that bastard in between them?

Yoo Joonghyuk is frustrated. Sexually.

They’re all seated around the blazing campfire, chatting about irrelevancies to emulate some sort of normalcy in a world as twisted as theirs. It’s not… unpleasant, but Yoo Joonghyuk knows better than to fool himself into such wishful fantasies.

Kim Dokja’s also there, discussing something with Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung, sitting on the lap that belonged to a certain son of a b—

An identical pair of eyes meet his, and the bastard smirks at him, clutching Dokja closer to his chest. Kim Dokja startles but eventually shifts around to get comfortable, having given up resisting the protagonist. The reader doesn’t notice the stare-off, but Heewon does. And the righteous woman backed by the angels flashes him a devilish, knowing smile. Yoo Joonghyuk narrows his eyes at the Judge of Destruction, not liking any of this one bit.

She stands up abruptly, tugging Hyunsung with her to where the author and the kids were being babysat by Yoo Sangah. Not before grinning at Yoo Joonghyuk, of course. 

Fakehyuk gazes at Dokja, choosing to talk with the sylphlike man instead. Then, in a blasé manner, Fakehyuk eyes Yoo Joonghyuk as he discreetly slips a hand under Dokja’s white coat, trailing up his side. Kim Dokja blushes a lovely crimson, sputtering and shoving his hand away. The perpetrator only chuckles, then glances at Yoo Joonghyuk, as if to say he’s mine.

“Bastard…!”

His eye twitches at the sight and his hand twitches for his sword.

Yoo Joonghyuk promptly turns, stomping away to his tent to cool his head. He will not fight this fraud over whether his life and death companion is his. Why is this even bothering him?  

Irrelevant.  

He changes direction, heading to train instead. One could never be too strong. And so, he spends the night perfecting his skills, not once thinking of that brute’s arms around Dokja’s waist, tugging him closer to him on his lap.

Not at all.

.

.

.

Fuck.  

This is driving him insane. He groans loudly, positively vexed.

[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ grins, satisfied at this development.]

Yoo Joonghyuk stares up at the myriad of stars dotting the sky, annoyed. He doesn’t doubt that this constellation had something to do with the arrival of that fake, and so, he points a damning middle finger at the constellation. This irks the constellation and earns him thousands of coins from the Great Sage. All is well.

All is not well. While painting on a tranquil facade, Kim Dokja has, for the past week, been continuously harassed by a certain Hyuk-ah. 

What type of harassment, you ask? 

Every. Type.

Walking around shirtless and shoving Dokja’s head against those pecs under the ‘guise’ of a hug? Check.

Feeling him up and essentially fondling his ass? Check.

Refusing to leave him even as he bathes? Check.

Now, there was a curtain separating the two, but he was still naked in the same room as that man! Why was the protagonist bastard even initiating whatever this was with him? What about Lee Seolwha?!

“‘What about Lee Seolwha,’” Hyuk-ah mocks, pulling Kim Dokja’s back flush against his chest and settling his head at the junction of Dokja’s neck and shoulder, humming. Again, Kim Dokja was powerless to stop the man because the man just so happened to be buff as fuck. Truly, it was unfair.

“She’s your lover, you idiot, so stop doing whatever it is you’re doing!"

"Only because of you," he hums against the reader's ear, "besides, she wasn't the one I really wanted, and she knew that."

[The Fourth Wall is—]

NO.

"W-what are you trying to say?" 

"What do you think?" he whispers, his lips ghosting over a ruby ear. Kim Dokja closes his mouth shut like a snapping turtle and chooses to remain silent for the rest of the evening, lest he produces any unwanted sounds as the protagonist continues his ministrations, content.

Whenever there is a lull in the scenarios, some head out to grind hidden scenarios (such as Yoo Joonghyuk) while others prefer to take a laxer approach (like Han Sooyoung). Occasionally, when they are all gathered, they like to do something together to boost the team morale.

Like barbequing.

Now, the one handling the grill is usually Yoo Joonghyuk—that bastard will not hesitate to grill you if you are within a two-metre radius. To Kim Dokja, who has been a squid before, it's all the more threatening.

This time, though, there's two Yoo Joonghyuks. And one grill. 

The two seem engaged in a mental confrontation, trying to will the other away with the sheer might of their inner alpha. Kim Dokja, already sensing the slow wave of an incoming headache, moves to tell them to hurry the fuck up when Lee Jihye pipes up, suggesting that they share the grill.

Two murderous glares land on a blissfully smiling teenager. Kim Dokja says something about it sounding like a great idea, and the two hesitate. After a mere minute, the two stand at each end of the grill, trying to be as physically far away from each other while still reaching the grill.

Kim Dokja can only wonder if they are trying to prove their maturity now. No matter, he's seen a sulky Yoo Joonghyuk far too many times to be fooled by such a thing.

The pair cook the food at record speeds, the scent of savoury meats and roasted vegetables heady in the air. He doesn't miss how Hyuk-ah piles his plate up with more than he does the others, how close he's sitting to Dokja on the ground or the arm around his waist tugging him closer.

After he manages to scarf down half of his plate, Kim Dokja starts feeling parched. He looks to his right and sees Hyuk-ah gulping down water from a water bottle. Droplets of water glide down the side of his mouth, sparkling in the sunlight. His eyes home in on a droplet sliding down his defined jaw and his neck before slipping below his half-open shirt. 

Kim Dokja catches himself staring, and looks away in embarrassment, only to lock eyes with a man who also caught him staring.

Raising an eyebrow, he offers him the water bottle. "Thirsty?"

Flushing a cherry red, Kim Dokja snatches the bottle and gulps it down in one go.

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is chanting "indirect kiss, indirect kiss"!]

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ has sponsored 10 000 coins.]

Well, 'Kim Dokja' is chanting "somebodyfuckingsavemeIdidn’tplantodie byspontaneouscombustion"—

"Dokja-yah."

—hah?

"I've been thinking," he says, wrapping his other arm Dokja and pulling him up to sit on his lap, Kim Dokja's thighs on either side of him. Kim Dokja, now used to this, only stiffens instead of turning into a stuttering mess. Then he places a large hand on his right thigh.

"M-mhm?"

The protagonist gently holds a wrist, bringing it closer to his face. He levels him with a dark look, eyes lidded and hungry, and Kim Dokja's breath hitches. Wordlessly, he presses a chaste kiss on the inside of Dokja's palm, and the hand on his thigh tightens.

"Be mine," he murmurs, voice deep and velvety. 

“Hah??”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” The man has the gall to chuckle, trailing his lips down to his wrist. He places another kiss there, his teeth grazing his pulse point slightly. 

“Be mine, ” he growls, and if Kim Dokja didn’t have his dear, dear wall, he would’ve been reduced to mere whimpers.

“A-ah, well—”

“Can everyone gather around? Heewon-ssi and I found something rather interesting…”

Bless you, Hyunsung-ssi, Kim Dokja thinks as he scrambles to get as far away from the protagonist and his dangerous words.

Further away, Yoo Joonghyuk stands with a broken sparring sword, having witnessed a few seconds of their interaction. 

This won’t do.

With that in mind, the regressor begins plotting to keep his reader beside him and only him.

Huh.

He might have something in common with Fakehyuk after all: their greed.

They were both esurient protagonists.

Chapter Text

Morning light filters through the tent’s fabric, bathing it in a pastel glow. A sliver of light seeps in through a hole in the tent, highlighting a demon king’s gentle features. A small, defined nose, thin, curved eyebrows and blossom lips, all of which are now painted amber by the light, greet a certain man’s eyes. 

Beautiful. Kim Dokja is unequivocally beautiful, in a way that men usually aren’t. He’s unconventionally beautiful, with his hour-glass figure and slim stature.

Kim Dokja may not be handsome when judged by conventional standards, but the 0th Yoo Joonghyuk can't help finding Kim Dokja’s gentle countenance to be absolutely gorgeous.

He glances at the sleeping man's face once again, gaze soft.

The man fights the urge to let his long fingers explore the constellation’s face, to map it out and cradle it, to keep it safe.

To possess it, a little voice whispers in his mind.

The protagonist settles for tangling his fingers in the reader’s inky hair that’s so heartachingly akin to the rivers of words on ivory pages. He contents himself with brushing Dokja’s bangs away and twirling silken strands every now and then. The smaller man only hums, snuggling further into the protagonist's body and nuzzling his nose against a firm chest, blissfully asleep. 

It hadn't been easy to convince his constellation to lay in bed with him. Truthfully, while he did sincerely mean to only sleep with him, it was delightful seeing the smaller man's face comically redden at the unintended innuendo.

In the end, promises of a human heater warm body and more of his divine cooking convinced the reader to, tentatively, be in the same bed as the protagonist.

He couldn't be more delighted, finally being able to keep Kim Dokja's vulnerable and peaceful expression for himself. To know that this sight would grace his eyes only...

The thought makes him inexplicably thrilled. He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as he tightens his grip around Kim Dokja. A content smile rests on his face, and he hides it in those raven locks, feeling happy.

Ah, how he wishes to entrap himself in this moment, to experience this euphoric bliss forevermore.

Warmth blooms tenderly inside of him, and he finds that he doesn’t have the will to fight it. So, he lets it engulf him, swallow him whole, until every inch of himself is simmering with that gentle fire.

And he doesn't mind it. Not at all.

Cosy, he thinks, breathing in Kim Dokja’s scent that vaguely smells of vanilla before dozing off, at peace.

Callous fingers trailing up and down his arm stirs Kim Dokja. He cranks an eye open and finds that the one who awoke him is staring back, very much awake.

“How long have you been up?” He asks, voice raspy and sounding like he just woke up because, well, he did.

“Not long,” a deep, pleasant voice mutters softly, almost lulling Dokja back to sleep if it wasn’t for the way the sun’s rays shone on him, the glare of the light fully rousing him. Kim Dokja moves to sit up, but a muscled arm wrapped under him tugs him down. When did Hyuk-ah’s arm even get there? More importantly, how is his arm not even numb? Honestly, the buffs that come with being a protagonist sometimes are downright ridiculous.

Right now, though, he needed to get up.

“Let go of me, yeah? We have to go and gather up with the rest,” Kim Dokja tries, and instead of letting go, the arm pressing him against that well-defined chest.

“Jnmphhyunph!” The squid half-heartedly shoves him.

“Tsk.” Hyuk-ah shakes his head as he relaxes his punishing grip on Kim Dokja’s waist (finally), only for him to flip the constellation on his side and spoon him.

Kim Dokja sputters at the audacity of this man, but then he hears a low sigh, the sound reverberating from the muscled torso plastered to his back.

“Noisy,” he whispers, lips grazing his constellation’s earlobe. A light gasp falls from Dokja’s lips as he squirms to put some distance between the bold bastard and himself.

[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’’ is groaning at this stagnant progression.]

The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’’ wonders where all the action is.]

Hyuk-ah stiffens at that, his natural distaste for other constellations temporarily distracting him. Kim Dokja manages to twist away from those caging comfortable arms, grab his coat and leave (not before telling Hyuk-ah to hurry up, of course).

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is going to throttle the constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’!]

[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’’ snickers and says that he’d like to see noona try.]

[The constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is looking for someone to hold her earrings and heels.]

[The constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ valiantly volunteers.]

Hyuk-ah groans at the irritating bickering and pulls himself out of bed. He readies himself quickly and rushes to where his constellation went, wanting to stay right by his side. 

(Where he belongs.)

Hyuk-ah’s mellow mood vanishes at the sight of Kim Dokja being tugged away by that nefarious regressor. With firm stomps, Hyuk-ah makes his way to his constellation, determined to put a stop to whatever it is that strangler wanted to do.

As if sensing his thoughts, the regressor peers at him, then tugs on Kim Dokja’s sleeve harder, further twisting Hyuk-ah’s face. Nevertheless, he continues walking towards them.

Now within hearing range, he hones his ears so they pick up everything, one of which being Dokja’s exasperated sigh.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, can you tell me what it is you want already?”

The regressor grunts in reply, then finally opts to verbalise his thoughts.

“...There’s a hidden scenario that requires a party of two. Come with me.”

“Was that so hard to say?” Kim Dokja mocks, muttering something along the lines of damn antisocial sunfish as he follows after Yoo Joonghyuk.

Well, tries to, anyway.

Long fingers wrap around Kim Dokja's forearm, stopping the man from moving a step further. The reader whips his head behind, taking in Hyuk-ah's furrowed brows and scowl and hesitates.

“...Hyuk-ah? Is something wrong?”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to leave with that—” he says, eyebrows further furrowing, “—that imbecile? ”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows raise, then he instantly gives his alternate self a death stare. Kim Dokja amusedly looks on, not refuting Hyuk-ah’s name for the sunfish bastard. 

“Sorry, Hyuk-ah, but there’s been a change of plans,” Kim Dokja begins, flashing the non-regressor an apologetic smile, “my life and death bastard seems to be in dire need of my help to complete a scenario, and I’m afraid it’s a scenario for two.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Kim Dokja walks closer to him, raising his hand to ruffle the man’s hair, as if Hyuk-ah’s a puppy with separation anxiety that Dokja’s trying to ease (Kim Dokja shudders slightly at that uncanny resemblance), “but you’ll have to learn to be without me too.”

“Well, at least you gave him a warning,” Yoo Joonghyuk uncharacteristically grumbles, then turns to walk away. 

“Wha—?! Hey, you rude bastard! Stop walking away—!”

“Kim Dokja, stop wasting time. Let’s go.”

Obstinate sunfish, Kim Dokja thinks and moves to follow the protagonist of the third regression. He casts a look behind him, eyes locking with a displeased-looking man, and beams at him, waving his hand lightly.

“See you soon, Hyuk-ah!”

Not even a minute later, and the companions’ silhouettes have disappeared.

Sullen, Hyuk-ah returns to camp.

(The empty space beside him does not leave his mind.)

“Hello, Hyuk-ssi! Could you help watch the kids?”

Lee Hyunsung looks expectantly at the gloomy man, a soft smile on his face. Hyuk-ah gives Lee Hyunsung a look, obviously not in the right mental state to perform any sort of task due to his dearest constellation’s absence.

He feels something painful tug at his heart. Damn it, the protagonist internally curses.

“O-oh, I wouldn't want to force you into doing something you wouldn't want to! It’s just that Sangah-ssi has been looking worse and worse each day, and I suspect that looking after the kids might’ve taken its toll on her,” Lee Hyunsung rambles, hand  scratching the back of his head, but Hyuk-ah would honestly rather not have to babysit a bunch of murderous little children who seemed to revere his Dokja as much as he did.

As he opens his mouth to decline, evil incarnate graces him with her presence.

“Yeah, Hyuk-ie~” the saccharine voice calls out, grating on Hyuk-ah’s ears, “poor, sweet, Sangah has had to deal with two exceptionally ill-mannered children because someone’s been hogging their favourite person for the past month.”

The wicked creature who he’s come to know as Han Sooyoung steps towards him while simultaneously pulling out a lemon lollipop.

“I bet she’d love to do a hidden scenario or two to, y’know, let out some steam,” she adds nonchalantly, examining the piece of candy in her palm. “So, take responsibility,” she says gleefully, tapping the wrapped sphere of artificiality on his chest. The frown that graces his face only makes her snicker. 

Yoo Joonghyuk considers his options. Either he keeps an eye on two kids who genuinely abhor his guts or spend another second with Lee Hyunsung and Han Soo—

I don't really have a choice. He sighs.

“...Where is Yoo Sangah?” He asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose exasperatedly.

Han Sooyoung points to the lush forest on the left. When Yoo Joonghyuk asks why they were there, she only shrugs, saying that the kids were dealing with their contempt by violently cutting down the trees and pretending they’re beheading a certain someone.

As she says that, a tall tree tips over. Just before it crashes into the ground, golden ropes slither up and wrap around the gnarled branches, cushioning its fall and muffling the sound of the crash.

Hyuk-ah turns to look incredulously at Han Sooyoung, but she simply shoos him away. Grudgingly, Hyuk-ah makes his way over to the forest.

Thinking he was out of earshot, Han Sooyoung starts cackling.

“Did you see how easy he was? I wouldn't be able to get away with that if it were that moody bastard!”

“Sooyoung-ssi—”

Hyuk-ah promptly turns around, his hand hovering above his sheathed sword. Han Sooyoung’s grin does a 180° while Lee Hyunsung peacefully looks on, his facial expression looking like the “:>” emoticon. He casts a glance at the stiff Lee Hyunsung then turns to glare at Han Sooyoung. Well, he tries to, anyway.

In less than the time it takes to blink, she is out of frame, all traces of her gone with the wind. 

…

Huh.

Hyuk-ah shakes his head, wondering why his constellation’s companions are like this, then walks to where Yoo Sangah and the kids are.

Two vicious snarls welcome Hyuk-ah. The man (who has just arrived, mind you) only looks at them with ennui. 

Why did he agree to this, again? 

Oh, it’s because he felt bad.

Hyuk-ah silently lowers his face into his palm, disappointed in himself as he recalls the events that led to this.

Languidly, Hyuk-ah continues walking towards the forest, taking his time and examining his blade to delay the inevitable. It’s obvious that he isn’t looking forward to this very much.

Immediately, he notices the statuesque figure of Yoo Sangah leaning against a daimyo oak. With a sigh, he makes his way over and explains the situation to her. 

“Really, Hyuk-ssi? Oh, thank you very, very much!” Yoo Sangah says gratefully, hands flying to grasp his calloused ones, her perfect smile unhinged askew. “You don’t know how much I need this.”

Hyuk-ah nods, perturbed but not doubting her in the slightest.

“Have fun! I’ll be gone for a few days,” Yoo Sangah says, waving politely and swiftly vanishing the next second.

Raising his head from his palms, Hyuk-ah regards the two children with an unyielding gaze.

“I will be Yoo Sangah’s replacement for the time being—”

“WHAT?!—”

“NO—”

“—but that should be of no matter. Continue as you were.”

Lee Gilyoung looks at Hyuk-ah with furrowed brows and a quivering bottom lip.

“We don’t want you here, other sooty bastard!” The kid all but wails, fists curled and shaking by his sides.

“Yeah! Also, stop hogging Ahjussi all the time and give him back!” 

Give him back? It’s not like Kim Dokja’s a thing that people can just take whenever they—

Oh. Wait. Isn’t that exactly what he’s been doing the entire time he’s been here?

Hyuk-ah awkwardly scratches his neck, suddenly very aware of how he’s been monopolising these people’s favourite star. He gazes down at the resentful children, conflicted.

On the one hand, he wants to keep his little constellation all to himself, like a man lost in a desert would were he to find an oasis. However, these people have been with his dearest constellation for far longer than he has, and it wouldn’t be fair towards them if he were to hide Kim Dokja away from the world. 

But he’s always been a little selfish when it comes to those he cares about.

(Loves, a soft little voice whispers to himself, correcting him.)

He’d have to compromise, huh?

“...I understand.”

Two, round eyes widen at that.

“I will… try to take up less of Kim Dokja’s time.”

And be a little less greedy.

“...Really?” Shin Yoosung looks up at him, uncertain. Her smaller fingers toy at the sleeve of her sweater, her wide eyes starry and hopeful.

Hyuk-ah softens at that, a faint smile curling his lip.

“Really.”

The two lower their weapons, contentment radiating from them. Hyuk-ah’s lips curves in amusement, surprised at how easy it is to appease them.

Though, after half a minute, the awkwardness starts to settle. Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung’s eyes dart around, not knowing what to do anymore. They aren’t angry with Hyuk-ah anymore, so… what do they do now?

Shin Yoosung starts to pace, then suddenly stills, her eyes glinting as an idea rapidly forms in her head. 

“Hyuk-ssi, may I excuse myself for a moment? I promise I’ll be right back!”

Hyuk-ah quirks a brow at her sudden politeness, but agrees, leaving him alone with Lee Gilyoung.

He feels the faintest tug on his sleeve. Looking down, Hyuk-ah’s eyes meet Lee Gilyoung’s hesitant ones. 

“Um… do you want to see this new bug I found? It’s deceptively plain and small, but it has so many cool abilities!” Lee Gilyoung says timidly, voice growing louder towards the end of the sentence. “Not that I’m begging you to, of course. It’s just that Shin Yoosung’s gone and, to pass the time—”

“Okay.”

Large, caramel eyes snap to him, glimmering. The fingers on his sleeve begin tugging harder, guiding him to follow the boy.

I see why Kim Dokja cares for these kids, Hyuk-ah thinks, walking faster to catch up with Lee Gilyoung who is now running, a boyish grin plastered on his round face.

Hyuk-ah’s eyebrows raise at that, unaware that he, too, is wearing that same grin.

Shin Yoosung returns after three hours, heaving, with a pony-tailed girl in tow. Their party was close to the Industrial Complex, so she had more than enough time to fly there on her Chimera dragon and bring the protagonist’s sister.

So, what took them so long to get back?

Well, Lee Gilyoung and the non-regressor had decided to not stay where they were, causing the beast tamer to go on a goose chase, somehow ending up at an abandoned sports stadium of all places. 

The dilapidated, ashen walls envelop the two girls. Large, splintering cracks cover every surface of the stadium, and the ground is more rubble than floor. Just a little further, she can make out two figures in the distance, locked in a fight.

Shin Yoosung facepalms, wondering how Lee Gilyoung managed to enrage the protagonist in the short amount of time she was gone. She looks to her right, nonplussed at the sight of Yoo Mia smiling. 

The raven-haired girl turns to face Shin Yoosung, smile tinged with amusement.

“They’re not fighting, silly—just look at their faces,” Yoo Mia says, tapping Yoosung’s nose and pointing at the two with the same finger. Shin Yoosung’s eyes widen, stupefied at the sight before her.

Lee Gilyoung’s youthful face dons a joyful expression. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead, but he doesn’t seem to care, finding the challenge before him to be far more engrossing. Hyuk-ah flashes the boy a knowing smirk, deflecting the boy’s attacks with practiced ease, but Lee Gilyoung doesn’t seem to mind. 

A shining, viridescent insect jumps down from a cracked pillar, pincers aiming straight for his head. Hyuk-ah shakes his head chidingly, already having activated Red Phoenix Shunpo and gone to the left, effectively dodging the attack. 

Lee Gilyoung’s grin does not waver, and the next thing he knows he’s smacked by a metre-long scorpion tail, his abdomen stinging from the impact. 

With a groan, he stands up, smirking approvingly at the boy, and throws himself into the battle once again.

The two girls look at each other for a moment, eyes flashing and coming to a silent agreement. Moving somewhere further away, they promptly drop down onto the floor, contenting themselves with watching the pair for a while.

To the right.

Duck.

Roll under the pincers.

Expertly dodging each move, Hyuk-ah quickly makes his way to the insect tamer, back bared and vulnerable. Hyuk-ah raises his sword, and smiles when one of his insects instantly blocks the attack, pleased with the boy’s rapid growth. Honestly, what is Kim Dokja doing, wasting this boy’s potential like this?

Twisting away from the insect’s razor-sharp limbs, Hyuk-ah sprints further and further away. His eyes dart around him, on the lookout for any devious moves the boy might try to pull. 

They land on a pair of identical, obsidian eyes. 

Hyuk-ah stills, mouth parting slightly in shock. Mia—

The scorpion from earlier smacks the back of Hyuk-ah, tossing the protagonist further towards where the two girls are.

He stands up, rubbing his head with a disgruntled hiss, and looks up again.

The noirette speed-walks to where Hyuk-ah is, eyes not leaving him for a second.

The two siblings stand in front of each other.

“Mia…” Hyuk-ah murmurs, hands hesitatingly reaching out to ruffle her hair. Yoo Mia does not stop the man—rather, she tilts her head into his hand, eyes glimmering and content.

“I… how are you?” He asks lamely, not knowing what to say to his sister from another worldline. He knows he doesn't say it much, but he truly does love his sister. Mia, the only family that was there for him when everybody else had abandoned him. Mia, his little sister who would always look at him as if he was her whole world. 

Mia, who is now giggling, cupping his face in her hands and squeezing it slightly.

“You remind me of how Oppa used to be,” She hums, eyes like crescents as she directs a brilliant smile towards him. 

“...He doesn't talk as much anymore, though, and he looks way too tired.” 

Her smile falters, eyes dimming, “He needs to rest more.”

“Mia-yah…” he says gently, but instead of comforting her, her eyes harden, determination enveloping her small frame. Her hands drop to lift his right hand, small palms barely covering half of it.

“Orabeoni, promise me that you’ll rest so that you don't get tired like my oppa!”

Hyuk-ah’s eyes shake, turning impossibly soft, realising just how much he misses his little sister. “Of course, Mia-yah.”

A calloused hand ruffles the noirette’s hair before letting it drop. He hears a rumble to his right and sees Lee Gilyoung’s red face. 

“...I’m hungry.”

Shin Yoosung scoffs. “We heard, bug-brain—”

“Hey—”

“But I’m also feeling peckish as well, Hyuk-ssi.”

Shin Yoosung’s puppy-dog eyes almost rival his sister’s, and Hyuk-ah inwardly sighs, the smallest of smiles hanging loosely on his lips.

“Let’s head back, I’ll be making dinner.”

When Kim Dokja returns, he’s greeted by the sight of Hyuk-ah whipping up a feast for three eager kids.

The evening light stains the world a warm sepia, tinting the metal grill a muted amber and enveloping the man that’s manning it in an ethereal light. Hyuk-ah dons a relaxed expression as he grills various chunks of marinated beef while simultaneously tossing a salad. 

The children only watch in awe, mouths salivating at the divine sight of expertly made food. Despite the heavenly scent, Kim Dokja’s eyes are glued on a particular man’s soft smile that only broadens as their eyes meet.

Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

Ears burning, he snaps his gaze away, utterly perplexed at his heart that’s hammering within him and the warmth engulfing him.

No matter, he only came to check in on his non-regressor. Currently, there are important matters to take care of, such as finding where Yoo Joonghyuk has stalked off to and addressing what happened during the hidden scenario—and his face is burning again. Wonderful.

He covers the lower half of his face with slender fingers as he recounts the events of today. The red smattering Kim Dokja’s cheeks refuses to leave, evident and damning. 

Just what was up with that bastard?!