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Kim Dokja, the world of the Kim com, everyone had something to thank him for.
He saved their lives, gifted them the family they needed and just existed.
That, was all at a price though. You can never have happiness without some hurt because in the world of the apocalypse, love comes at a cost. Yoo Joonghyuk had known of course.
It was hard to live your life without him. It was hard to except the fact he was actually gone.
In a room of silence other then a few sobs and heavy breaths, a long, dreadful beep rang out in the hospital room.
White walls, white sheets, white clothes and the white deathly pale skin. Lifeless, despite the desperate tries to bring back the warmth that it used to carry. Hand falling limply to the side when being released by another hand that grips bedsheets. Scrunching up the before smooth blankets.
They were all helpless now. Knowing that there wasn’t a chance for him to come back. Wake up and smile at all of them again and say ‘you really thought I was gone for good’ but no sound came from the dried up lips, no breath, no curve. No nothing.
That pesky voice, that soothing sound was lost- stuck in his throat and gone from him here and the fragments of other world lines.
All proof of the disaster that had once erupted and begun had disappeared, all that was left was the weak and lonely bodies of once shields or swords, even companions. The saviour was to be forgotten in the others hearts, but they all knew that he had protected this world because of this causation he wasn’t aware of.
It was never his fault in the first place but he died again and again to risk it all as the god, the salvation and the love. And if it came to have to do it all once more he would.
Kim Dokja would die at the hands of the people he loved most, he would take his own life to ensure the safety of the same people.
That man was much more than just a simple being, a child, an incarnation, a king, a demon, a constellation, an outer and king god, an angel, a friend, a farther figure and just a companion. He was the soul reason to those existence and reason to carry on in life. The only thing that would keep them going and a reason to live.
But now all that was gone and washed away yet again for the nth time like it was routine, though only this time he wasn’t going to repeat it all over, no, for this was the last.
Only very few people will have remembered this person, deep at the bottom of their hearts. But strongly for those people will be great thankfulness that he had once existed in their memories.
In one’s mind flashed back to an old memory: one where it was suggested by the man that he felt that if he actually died that his party members would string him up like a puppet and force him to live again. Though this person didn’t dare to joke at a sorrowful time like this and all that came out was wines and tears.
At that time they had replied with a laugh or a slap on the head or a nod of a agreement or even a ‘how could you think like that, it would never happen and I’ll make sure of it’ one of the biggest lies to ever be told had happened then.
Nothing could’ve prepared Kim Dokja’s company for the hit they were going to take. Not even when this had happened before but then they had that lingering feeling in their stomach that he was going to awaken. Now only an undying ache sat pitifully in the abyss of their bodies.
Could this have been prevented, maybe if they had listened to Han Sooyung earlier. Maybe, just maybe.
At that time when Kim Dokja had cast his typical unlucky smile at all of his party members before taking a step out of the subway. Yoo Joonghyuk had faltered in his steps slightly as if he had known, he felt the gaze of another watching his back. Maybe it had been the natural reaction to have after years of endless suffering. Or maybe it had been the foreshadowing for the future.
Whatever it had been, they all new it was the end after the nod of Lee Seolwha’s head and the tears rolling down her face.
Not once had the members seen her cry.
Maybe if they hadn’t been so greedy.
Maybe if they had been happy with what they had.
Maybe if they had fought harder or protected him more.
But they all knew the useless thoughts were worthless because nothing could change the past, nothing except the past itself.
Maybe in another life.
There would be no life without the creator though, would there?
[The y sh o ul d’ve j ust be e n h ap py]