Work Text:
Yoo Joonghyuk woke up eight centimetres shorter, in a tent that wasn’t his, and with a body that felt unnatural.
It was the feeling of hair brushing against his eyelids that pulled him out of slumber; unfamiliar and odd, as he tended to keep his hair away from his face, even at night. It quickly became an annoyance, ticklish and poking against his eyeballs when he tried to blink them away.
He muttered a curse under his breath as he stretched, but then abruptly froze. His voice was higher and his arms felt shorter like there was something blocking them from stretching fully. Yoo Joonghyuk felt a shiver run down his spine and he opened his mouth again. Slowly, carefully, he made a noise.
A soft, almost sweet sound escaped his lips and his eyes widened, his palms shooting up to cover his mouth as if he had sinned.
He realized, then, that this wasn’t his body. This wasn’t his voice, his arms, his legs, his fucking—
Yoo Joonghyuk scrambled, pulled the tent flap open, and yelled—or, well, tried to, but ended up screaming—the name of the only man who could have created such a catastrophe.
—
“So,” Han Sooyoung picked at her nails and scraped the dirt out from underneath, “would you like to explain why you were screaming your own name at five in the morning?”
No, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, anger and frustration bubbling in his chest, I don’t.
[Hidden Scenario – Eyes Are Windows to The Soul]
Category: Hidden
Difficulty: ???
Clear Conditions: Swap bodies with your ‘Life and Death Companion’. This information can only be known to the scenario participants.
Time Limit: 24 Hours
Compensation: ???
Failure: ???]
… So maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell them, but rather he couldn't. Every time he tried to say I am Yoo Joonghyuk, it came out as just “I am,” with his lips forcibly shutting against his own will.
Han Sooyoung seemed to find it funny for some reason, and she cackled, hand on her abdomen and practically falling over. “You’re what? The protagonist? The last time you said that I was trying so hard not to cringe, just so you know.”
Just as he was considering whether he could still regress in this body, ‘Yoo Joonghyuk’ stumbled out of his tent, his hair mussed and a mixture of bewilderment and horror on his face. Yoo Joonghyuk thought that seeing his face make an expression like that might be a worse punishment than hell.
Han Sooyoung whistled and looked back and forth between the two men. “What’s up with you two today?”
Kim Dokja, in Yoo Joonghyuk’s body, panted and made eye contact with Yoo Joonghyuk, who was in Kim Dokja’s body. It seemed that Kim Dokja had figured out that they physically couldn’t communicate the situation in any way as well because his lips pressed together firmly and his breathing evened out, eventually regulating back to normal.
Yoo Joonghyuk frowned and wondered if he had some sort of shock-absorbing skill that he didn’t know about. It was a shame that they only swapped bodies and not skills. It would have been helpful to know what tricks his companion was hiding behind his back. He wanted to dig into Kim Dokja’s mind and find what was lurking there, toss all of his stupid, self-sacrificial nonsense away and let him know that he was—
Yoo Joonghyuk slapped himself.
Han Sooyoung’s jaw dropped open. Kim Dokja closed his eyes as if he didn’t want to see his own face being abused.
From behind him, something shattered. Turning instinctively, Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand flew to his waist, where his sword should have been, but wasn’t. Yoo Sangah was staring at him like he was a ghost and her hands were still in front of her, a plate broken on the ground.
“Are you hurt?” Han Sooyoung jumped to her feet and rushed over to Yoo Sangah, lightly moving her over and examining her palms. “What happened?”
“Well, Dokja-ssi hit himself, so I was a bit shocked,” Yoo Sangah blinked and let Han Sooyoung fuss over her.
Kim Dokja sent Yoo Joonghyuk an anxious look, conveying something like urgency and guilt, so Yoo Joonghyuk turned to Yoo Sangah, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m fine. You don’t need to concern yourself with my well-being.”
Everything went silent.
Yoo Joonghyuk could see Kim Dokja’s head fall into his hands from the corner of his eye and he was somewhat offended by the over-dramatic action. Wasn’t his response appropriate?
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Sangah said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder and peering closely at his face like there was something wrong with him. Technically, there was, but Yoo Sangah looked worried, her eyebrows creasing and her face softening as if she were coaxing a small child. Even Han Sooyoung was frowning, lips pursed in thought.
“Should we take him to Lee Seolhwa?” Han Sooyoung asked and Yoo Sangah hummed.
“He is a little… odd today.”
Why were they only caring about him? What about Kim Dokja? The fact that they seemed to only think his impression of Kim Dokja was bad, and not the other way around was a stab to his pride and he levelled the two women with a furious glare.
“You look constipated,” Han Sooyoung blurted, and Yoo Sangah smacked a hand over her mouth. She managed to pry some of the fingers away and Yoo Sangah sent her a stern look. “Hey, that wasn’t offensive! I’m worried over here!”
Before Yoo Joonghyuk could say something that would undoubtedly make them even more concerned, something small and solid slammed into his side and he instinctively reached for his sword again. Where is his fucking sword?
“Hyung! Good morning!”
Yoo Joonghyuk looked down slowly, as if afraid to confirm his suspicions, and found a small child clinging to his leg, full of energy at six in the morning. Not just any child, but Lee Gilyoung, the self-proclaimed Yoo Joonghyuk Anti.
Before Yoo Joonghyuk could properly process his shock, something else hit his leg and this time, he didn’t even have to look to know who it was.
Though Shin Yoosung didn’t quite despise him as much as Lee Gilyoung did, Yoo Joonghyuk was still pretty sure she didn’t like him enough to be openly initiating physical contact. Sure, he’d taught her how to hunt during the three years Kim Dokja had been gone, and sure, she had been his companion in all the past regressions, but—
“Ahjussi, good morning!”
“Hey, Shin Yoosung, move over! I got to Hyung first so he’s mine!”
The two children began to bicker, a scene so familiar Yoo Joonghyuk had long learned to tune their voices out. But the thing was, it had never been about him.
It still isn’t , he reminded himself, staring down at their small hands clutching the fabric of his pants. This isn’t for him.
Kim Dokja had probably been observing his expressions and so he quickly moved to pry the children away from Yoo Joonghyuk. He took the opportunity to also glance into Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes and offer an apologetic look.
Ah. Kim Dokja must have mistaken his initial shock for disgust and was trying to prevent any potential bloodshed. How rude of him to assume Yoo Joonghyuk would unnecessarily hurt a child.
“Come on, let’s not bother him,” Kim Dokja said nervously, tugging on the children’s arms. Yoo Joonghyuk let it happen, though something short and sharp pricked at his chest.
“What the fuck?” Lee Gilyoung pulled his arm back and glared at Kim Dokja.
“Who taught you how to curse—”
“Why are you trying to steal our Ahjussi?” Shin Yoosung accused, cutting Yoo Sangah off and scowling at Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja seemed to have not expected such a reaction and he stood there, frozen and unmoving, two children glaring up at him with as much venom as they could muster.
“Why are you guys so loud?” Jung Heewon yawned and walked over, raising an eyebrow once she laid her eyes on the scene. “What’s going on?” she asked, to no one in particular.
When nobody responded, she looked at Yoo Joonghyuk. It seemed she expected him to explain, so he opened his mouth, but then reconsidered and shut it.
Han Sooyoung sighed, rubbing her temples in circles. “Call Lee Seolhwa."
—
“Everything looks good. He doesn’t have any injuries, and his brain seems to be functioning well.”
“Maybe it’s a scenario punishment or something,” Han Sooyoung muttered under her breath.
Yoo Joonghyuk tried to nod, but his head was stuck in place and so he settled for glaring up at the ceiling.
“Whatever it is, he doesn’t seem to be able to say anything about it,” Jung Heewon said, sighing. “I guess we’ll just have to wait it out.”
Yoo Joonghyuk sent a menacing look to Kim Dokja, telling him to do something, so they would be able to piece together that they were both affected, and not just him.
Kim Dokja bit his lip and exhaled deeply. “Uh—”
“Hyung’s not the only one acting weird,” Lee Gilyoung pointed out, directing a dirty look at Kim Dokja.
Han Sooyoung worried at her bottom lip and then sighed. “Lee Seolhwa.”
The woman was already on it, pulling Kim Dokja towards a chair and crouching to examine his condition. He sat stiff as a board as Lee Seolhwa performed a series of examinations, directing him through various actions.
“Joonghyuk-ssi is in good condition as well,” Lee Seolhwa straightened and offered a small smile to the company members.
“But he’s acting weird,” Shin Yoosung insisted, tugging on Lee Hyunsung’s hand. The man had been tasked with holding onto the two children as ‘Kim Dokja’ had been getting his check-up.
“He’s always acting weird,” Jung Heewon supplied.
“Master isn’t weird!” Lee Jihye jumped in to defend his honour and Yoo Joonghyuk was slightly moved until he heard her next words. “He just doesn’t know how to express his love!”
Kim Dokja sputtered, at a loss for words. All eyes turned to him, expecting him to deny the accusation outright, or at least scoff and walk out the door, his black coat billowing behind him.
Instead, he didn’t say a word. Lee Jihye took this as encouragement and continued to advocate for her Master’s pitiful lack of emotion. Something about a child and a love letter. Yoo Joonghyuk was barely listening, too focused on Kim Dokja’s flushed face.
Well, Yoo Joonghyuk’s flushed face, which made things even worse. Suddenly, Kim Dokja rose from his seat and without a word, fled out of the room. Lee Jihye’s words died in her throat and she froze for a second before she yelled out a “Master!” and ran after him.
“Maybe we should take a break today,” Lee Hyunsung suggested weakly.
—
It was weird.
Usually, the company members didn’t pay much attention to him. He preferred doing things alone, and they seemed to respect his wishes. Now, though, that was no longer an established boundary and he didn’t know if he could handle much more of whatever this was.
He had been tucked into his tent—Kim Dokja’s tent, to be exact—and told to rest for the day. They had probably expected him to go against their wishes and secretly plan for upcoming scenarios on his phone, so they took turns checking up on him.
Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung were curled up next to him, sound asleep, and his legs were quickly growing numb from a lack of movement. He was scared that if he moved even an inch, they would awaken and then he would have to deal with the horrors that were named Children.
So he settled for sitting there and closing his eyes. There was no way he was going to fall asleep, especially since it was almost noon, but he relaxed his muscles and slowed his breaths, letting his mind wander.
Kim Dokja’s body was thin, he had realized. Even now, he could feel how light this body felt, compared to his original body. He had lean muscles, likely due to his coins, but it was clear that he was a lot more malnourished than Yoo Joonghyuk had thought.
He had also realized that Kim Dokja’s complexion was a lot paler and that his dark circles were more prominent than he had assumed. His face was clearer now, for some reason, and when Yoo Joonghyuk had excused himself to the bathroom an hour ago, he had spent a good few minutes simply staring at the unfamiliar features in the mirror.
His thoughts paused when Shin Yoosung shifted, moving closer to his body. His arms were trapped under the two children and hesitantly, he curled them inwards, wrapping around their small frames. It felt unusual, fragile.
In his second regression, Yoo Joonghyuk had a child for the first time in his life. A boy, with Lee Seolhwa’s eyes and Yoo Joonghyuk’s nose. They hadn’t named him at the time, and Yoo Joonghyuk had been scared to like it would suddenly mean so much more if he told the world that something was precious to him. Names were special, from one to another.
Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t sure if he had been ready for that yet.
He didn’t tend to linger on past regressions too much. They were in the past for a reason; to serve as lessons, reminders of his failures and what he lacked. A regression was a new beginning, but it also meant the end to a different story. A story that was his, nonetheless.
Every time Yoo Joonghyuk regressed, a piece of him was left behind to die.
That child had died. Without a name, not even a year old. Perhaps it had been his greed that had ended the life of an innocent. Maybe there was no salvation for the things he touched. Like a drop of blood, painting everything close to it in red.
Yoo Joonghyuk felt the warmth of two bodies against him and wondered if he still knew how to cry.
—
“Why do you look different today?” Han Sooyoung asked at dinner, chewing her food loudly.
She reached up and pinched his cheek between her forefinger and thumb, pulling at the skin. If she had let go even a second later, Yoo Joonghyuk would have throttled her.
“Like, clearer?” she reasoned, tilting her head to the side and scanning his face with her eyes. “You are so weird today.”
“Stop making fun of Dokja-ssi and eat your food,” Yoo Sangah lectured and Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes, but didn’t retort. Yoo Joonghyuk suspected they were closer than they tried to pretend to be.
Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung ate at his left and right, diligently working through their meals. Throughout the day, they had stuck by his side persistently. Wherever he went, they insisted on trailing like ducklings. Yoo Joonghyuk thought they looked scared at times like they were worried ‘Kim Dokja’ would disappear at any moment. After all, he tended to do so whenever he started acting out of character.
Eating together with the group wasn’t something he did often, or at all, really. When it was his turn to cook, he would normally take his food elsewhere, or eat quickly and then go and do his own thing.
Kim Dokja sat across from him, sorting his food into piles and then dividing those piles into even smaller piles. The attention that Yoo Joonghyuk was receiving should have been for him. It was for him. These people cared for Kim Dokja, not Yoo Joonghyuk.
He was a regressor and the path of a regressor was only made for one. Death was a burden he had learned to carry on his own.
Selfishly, he wondered if it was okay for him to bask in this attention. Over the past few hours, he had begun to remember what it felt to be loved again.
The first time Jung Heewon had patted him on the back, he had flinched, causing her to retract her palm immediately. It wasn't that he disliked it, but that he wasn't used to someone touching him in a way that wasn't violent or insincere.
When Lee Hyunsung had quietly pulled him aside and asked if he was really okay, it had reminded Yoo Joonghyuk of a different life. One without many of the companions that were here now. One with more death, more blood, and more loss. But one where Yoo Joonghyuk had felt his companions' love and he had loved back fiercely, with his entire, burning heart.
Humans are selfish in a way that can't be explained through mere words. They will always seek another, a companionship. Yoo Joonghyuk had thought that he was no longer human anymore. He had thought that he would do just as well on his own.
Perhaps that was just a quiet wish of his.
—
"Goodnight, Hyung."
"Goodnight, Ahjussi."
Yoo Joonghyuk waved at the children, their eyelids drooping as they sleepily headed to their tents. The others had already headed off for sleep, so it was only him left.
Quietly, he made his way over to his actual tent, finding Kim Dokja already there waiting at the entrance. They didn't have to say a word as they both already knew: When they woke up, they would be back in their original bodies.
Kim Dokja looked at Yoo Joonghyuk with something soft, apologetic, almost. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't sure if he had imagined it, or if it was a reflection of the moon.
"Goodnight, Joonghyuk," Kim Dokja whispered. Sadness didn't suit his face, Yoo Joonghyuk thought. It made him look like someone who had died long ago.
"Goodnight," Yoo Joonghyuk replied, too tired to say something else or to act like the man he thought he had to be. It finally hit him how tiring today had been, and it seemed like it had been the same for Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja's footsteps faded into the distance as Yoo Joonghyuk walked into his tent and flopped onto his sleeping bag with zero grace.
In the morning, everything would go back to the way it had been. Today would simply be a memory he'd store in the back of his head, to revisit on cold nights and when he was alone, with only his sword and a pool of blood at his feet.
Yoo Joonghyuk closed his eyes and dreamed of the man he wished to be.
—
He woke up with a body that felt familiar and a voice that no longer shocked him.
Yoo Joonghyuk left their camp early before any of them woke up. He walked for a long time, his sword swinging lightly at his waist, the wind blowing the hair out of his face.
Kim Dokja liked to call him a protagonist. Maybe he was. But Yoo Joonghyuk no longer wanted to be a protagonist if it meant living this life.
Yoo Joonghyuk thought, for the first time, that being a protagonist was a lonely thing.
—
"—hyuk!"
"Yoo Joonghyuk!"
Yoo Joonghyuk finally registered the noise and turned to find Kim Dokja, panting like he had run a marathon. "Bastard," he said, catching his breath. "I've been calling you for ages!"
"What is it," Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly, his face masking over with careful neutrality.
"You left so early."
"I've left early before."
"Yeah, but… " Kim Dokja trailed off. "We were worried."
"I'm capable."
Kim Dokja studied his face, eyes flitting across his features. "I know. I know, it's just—"
"Kim Dokja," Yoo Joonghyuk cut in, "did you tell them?"
"I did," he replied and Yoo Joonghyuk's breath caught in his throat. The wind was cold against his skin.
"Why?"
"Because they deserved to know," Kim Dokja stood firmly. "And you deserve to be known."
"You're not upset?" Yoo Joonghyuk asked and Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Why would I be?"
"It wasn't for me," Yoo Joonghyuk admitted quietly, under his breath and hidden by the rush of air that passed over them. "It was yours. It was always yours."
"Joonghyuk-ah," Kim Dokja reached for his hand and held it, his skin smooth against Yoo Joonghyuk's, rough with calluses and scars. "That doesn't matter."
Yoo Joonghyuk tried to say something to refute that, but Kim Dokja didn't let him. "You saved me when I needed it the most," he confessed, swallowed something lodged in his throat, and continued. "Let me save you this time."
Yoo Joonghyuk felt the retort die on his tongue, sour and bitter. He didn't say anything, but Kim Dokja always knew him best. Even without words, their souls were able to understand one another.
Was this what it meant to be life and death companions?
They walked back to their camp, hand in hand, basking in the warmth of each other. He barely noticed when they arrived until he was greeted by Lee Jihye, who practically threw herself at him in a tackle.
"I'm sorry, Master," she sobbed into his coat, squeezing around his waist. Yoo Joonghyuk froze, his hands in the air, unsure of where to put them. He sent a helpless look to Kim Dokja, who only smiled at him. Yoo Joonghyuk slowly let his arms fall to Lee Jihye's back, patting softly.
"I didn't think you wanted to be close to us," Jung Heewon came out of nowhere and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for helping out, Yoo Joonghyuk."
Han Sooyoung joined and she stared at Yoo Joonghyuk for a long moment, before reaching on her tiptoes and pinching his cheek. She tried to pull, but the skin there was too firm and wouldn't let her. Huffing, she let go and grinned instead.
"Learn to use your words," she said, but it wasn't scolding or insulting.
The kids were more hesitant, approaching him like timid animals. "We can share Hyung," Lee Gilyoung said, but then his face soured like he had been forced to say that. "Just don't steal him away."
Shin Yoosung grabbed onto the edge of his coat and mirrored Lee Gilyoung's expression. Yoo Joonghyuk tried to hold back his smile.
Ond by one, they all came and formed a small circle around him, crowding him with warmth and sound. Kim Dokja stood away from the group, a smile on his lips as he watched the scene unfold. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't sure what to say, but he found that he didn't need to when everything he wanted had already been conveyed.
Something wet rolled down his cheek, followed by another, and another.
"Master, what's wrong?"
"Hey, were you moved to tears? Really?"
"Joonghyuk-ssi—"
"Don't cry, Hyung will start crying too!"
"No, he won't."
"He is! Look!"
Yoo Joonghyuk laughed, a soft noise, quiet and low. He lowered his head and lifted a hand from Lee Jihye's back to wipe at the wetness around his eyes before lifting his chin and grinning at the man in front of him.
Thank you, he mouthed, and through his blurry sight, he could make out the shape of Kim Dokja's lips forming into a matching grin, tears running down his chin.
Thank you for letting me remember how this feels.