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It had only been half an hour since he said those words to Dokja.
“Let’s go back to Earth, Kim Dokja.”
Let’s.
As soon as that sentence left his mouth, he felt odd. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he used a word that would group himself with another. “We”, “us”, after his regressions, he had gradually stopped saying such things. “We” had turned into “I”. “Us” had turned into “You guys”. If a distinction was made, he would not form any connections like he had in the past. If he surrounded himself with walls, he would not lose any people who would grow close to him. He would not give them the opportunity to get close to him.
Colder, harsher, tired eyes that gazed into an empty space, stern words and dry answers. Everyone admired Yoo Joonghyuk for his strength, but everyone couldn’t get close to him. Such was a goal he worked towards. Such a goal he had succeeded to reach.
And yet,
“Yoo Joonghyuk,”
“Yoo Joonghyuk, you bastard!”
“Let me handle this, Yoo Joonghyuk.”
Why do you keep trying?
He gazed at the man who still had his hands over his eyes, sitting across him. Dokja’s breaths were a little heavier than before. He was crying. Joonghyuk recognised the nature of stiff, forcibly quietened sobs. From his own experience. He looked away uncomfortably, perhaps he would stay quiet a little longer.
He thought back to the times he had felt despair overtake him during his past regression. Being able to try all over again no matter how devastating things get, people would think of it as a gift. But it was no gift. His allies would be gone, the memories he cherished would no longer bear any meaning. When he saw Jung Heewon and the others cry over Kim Dokja’s death, he had started to wonder.
When I regress, would the people I leave behind miss me? Would anyone remember me? Would anyone cry and remember the number of times I shed my blood for everyone else but me?
They were pointless questions, he had decided immediately. He thought back to how he began to distance himself from his allies for his own sanity. Perhaps in doing so, he had gotten rid of the possibility that anyone would cry for him.
But if people had remembered, and if they had asked him to go back home with them. In the distant past, Yoo Joonghyuk could see himself, possibly, tearing up. Hence he could not find it in himself to interrupt Kim Dokja. Take all the time you need to process the feelings that overwhelm you, he wanted to say, before he pursed his lips together, deciding it was unlike his demeanor and said nothing instead.
Surely, Kim Dokja would be strong enough to overcome this without him needing to say anything.
“...”
Even so, a question weighed on his mind.
“Kim Dokja.”
“... Yes?” Dokja’s reply was a little raspy, but he composed himself as soon as he put his hands down, though his head was still lowered.
“What did you mean back then? Before you had turned into the Demon King.”
“You’d have to be more specific than that…”
“...” Joonghyuk didn’t want to say it. Thoughts swarmed his head.
“...”
“When you said I had already saved you once. So you wanted to save me in return.”
“Oh.”
Joonghyuk’s mind wandered as he watched Dokja struggle to give a response. Had he saved Kim Dokja from an attack or scenario before? It could’ve been a more recent scenario, when they started to fight alongside each other more often. But Yoo Joonghyuk thought back to the Cinema Dungeon. The sentences Kim Dokja had screamed one by one when he was controlled by the theater master. The contents of the sentences were blurred to him, nevertheless, he understood.
The way Kim Dokja requested to be his companion during the second scenario. No, he could tell that whatever happened, whatever made Yoo Joonghyuk “save” Kim Dokja, was before all that happened. Before they even met. Now that he thought back carefully, a soft look of admiration and care had always been evident in the air around Kim Dokja. He had mistaken that for naivety.
Dokja laughed nervously upon seeing Joonghyuk glare daggers into him.
“Y’know, when you saved me from uh… one of the monsters–”
“Nonsense, it’s not that.”
“Uh, when you caught me and hurled me into the Eater of Dreams…”
“Do you take me for an idiot?”
Dokja went silent. He scratched the back of his head, and Joonghyuk could almost see the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for a counter to the question. He considered taking his sword and pressing it against Dokja’s neck, but perhaps after what they had gone through, and the fact Dokja’s body was barely held together at the moment, that would be a bluff Dokja would brush off too easily.
“Answer truthfully,” He spoke gentler this time. Lee Jihye had told him once before that if he spoke gentler to people, they would open up easier. He pushed aside the pride and annoyance bubbling up his throat.
This seems to surprise Dokja. Their eyes lock for a moment, before Dokja, opens his mouth, and closes it tentatively.
“I uh… I read a lot.”
Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow.
“I like stories, and I read yours, long ago, for a bit. I hope that answers your question.”
He was trying too hard to avoid the answer. “You should know that is barely an answer.”
Dokja shrugged. “I just really like stories.”
“You sound like a constellation.”
“... You can say I was already something similar to that before this all happened.”
“So you read my story, and that saved you?” Joonghyuk scoffed.
“Your story was long as hell I’ll have you know...”
“Then surely my story wouldn’t have been the thing that saved you from whatever tormented you.”
“Your story was all I had.”
Dokja’s voice seemed to tremble a little at those words, and for a moment, Joonghyuk didn't quite know how to reply. Silence permeated the room, and for a moment all they could hear were the ticking sounds of a nearby clock. Joonghyuk wished to retreat to the familiarity of distance, he wished to look up and tell Dokja that this was meaningless and hard to believe. Alas, his words were caught in his throat.
“... What was in my story?”
Dokja’s expression was calm, but his fingers fidgeted. His eyes were fixed onto the table leg. “Your experiences, your challenges,” He paused, “You were quite insufferable.”
“..."
“You were arrogant and cold, you charged into battles recklessly, like an idiot. You kept trying, and failing.”
A sour feeling pooled in Joonghyuk’s gut. He didn’t want to be reminded of his past shortcomings. The lives he could’ve saved, the people he had lost.
“But you kept trying anyway,”
Dokja had a pensive look on his face now, the corners of his lips curling up slightly. It was an expression full of fondness. Joonghyuk wasn’t used to such a sight.
“So uh, I kept trying too.”
As soon as those words left his lips, Dokja looked like he regretted saying them. They were intimate thoughts, even Joonghyuk could tell. Dokja groaned to ease his embarrassment at his words, covering his face with his hand. His eyes wandered, from the furniture, to the walls, to Joonghyuk, and back to the walls. “So um, yeah.” He croaked awkwardly. Was he trying to put up a front while answering the question? Joonghyuk couldn’t decide whether he was amused at this scene unfolding before him, or if he should question further about his Story.
He had picked up a while ago that Kim Dokja had known more than he let on, and he did not wish to disclose much of his knowledge at all. He decided to give up asking about the future for now. Now wasn’t the time. But if Kim Dokja had truly known his stories, then would he have known about the pain he went through in his regressions?
“Whatever you went through, you don’t have to do anything for me anymore. Don’t get in my way.” The words came out harsh. Dokja widened his eyes, and a near-comical scowl appeared on his face.
“Get in your way? Of what? Of you trying to kill yourself again?”
“It’s plenty rich that you of all people are lecturing me about such a topic.”
“At least I strategize to some extent. I have some certainty I’ll stay alive, or come back. You just, you don’t think of anything. You just give up.” Dokja was rambling now, his irritation overriding his earlier embarrassment as he raised his voice at Joonghyuk.
He stood up and walked towards Joonghyuk, perhaps it was because he was more tired than usual, but Dokja didn’t heed any mind to calm this flow of frustration that was setting in.
“Even if you know about my Story, you should know that I am not that fragile.”
“It is because I know your Story that I know you are fragile,” The words that left Dokja’s mouth practically spat at Joonghyuk, he had just called Yoo Joonghyuk fragile. “You struggle through everything alone and you close everyone off, you think you’ve grown numb to your pain but it swallows and drags you further downwards until you don’t recognize yourself anymore. It's frustrating.”
Joonghyuk could only watch as Dokja clenched his fingers around his coat. If all of this was said a few scenarios prior, he probably would’ve punched Kim Dokja in the jaw two times already. Instead he looked at Dokja, mixed feelings swarming.
“Would you cry if I died?” His question nearly made himself laugh.
“I…” Dokja caught himself mid-sentence, his anger faltering as Joonghyuk noticed his gaze shift from Joonghyuk to the wall behind him. He mumbled. “I would.”
Would anyone cry and remember the number of times I shed my blood for everyone else but me?
The earlier question that lingered in his head was answered faster than he thought it would be, though he still questioned the authenticity of this reply.
Joonghyuk noticed how his fingers were tense on the arms of the chair, and how his lips were slightly parted and his breathing had stilled since a while ago. He relaxed, heaving out a sigh.
And yet here Yoo Joonghyuk was, letting Kim Dokja sacrifice himself scenario after scenario just to keep him alive.
“What am I to you, Kim Dokja?”
He asked, his voice still.
Dokja looked at him. His mouth opened and closed, but he seemed to be unsure of what to say.
He let out a shaky sigh, letting go of Joonghyuk’s collar as he lowered his gaze, his arm falling limp by his side. “Y-You’re my…”
Savior? Protagonist? Companion? What was it?
[The exclusive skill, 'Fourth Wall' is shaking.]
Joonghyuk looked at the crestfallen man in front of him, though he rarely put in the effort to care about what people around him were feeling, he found his thoughts sympathizing, rationalizing, and his heart aching a little as Dokja’s voice trailed off.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought up such a topic. He should just let things go here, and tell Kim Dokja to get some rest. Before he enters battles with a clouded mind, and puts himself in danger again. As he looked away from Dokja, ready to leave and mutter a half-hearted goodbye, he felt a soft bump against his thumb.
“Baat.”
The small Dokkaebi child mumbled, her beady eyes gazing up at him, and her hands, barely larger than the width of his fingernails, tugging his sleeve lightly.
“Baaat.” Biyoo whispered again. Was she telling Joonghyuk to comfort his companion? He paid her no heed, disgruntled. Doing such a thing would be unlike his usual self, he wouldn’t want to embarrass his pride even further.
“I’m leaving,” He finally said, turning to the door connecting the treatment room to a guest room, “Go sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
He felt reluctant as he turned back slightly to see Dokja, still standing there, unsure of what he should have said. He shook it off. Guilt served no purpose to him in such an unimportant situation. Entering the small room that Aileen had provided, he closes the door behind him.
It was night when he was awoken by a soft flicking sound. The candle in the treatment room had been set ablaze, he realized. Watching the dim glow peeking through the bottom of the door, he heard soft whispering, along with familiar small happy chirps.
“Biyoo, keep it down…”
“Baat! Baat…”
It seemed Kim Dokja couldn’t sleep. Joonghyuk frowned at the thought that he might have been the reason for this. He grumbled and turned over in his bed, trying to go back to sleep. Alas, he found himself waking up a multitude of times over the course of the next hour, snapping awake at the softest murmurs and shifting of cloth from the closed door. He sat up in irritation, and moved over to greet his restless companion.
Opening the door, he’s greeted by the view of Dokja sitting quietly on the couch beside the table and chairs that they sat in earlier in the day. Biyoo snoozed quietly on the arm of the couch, her father’s fingers running smoothly through her fur comfortingly, lulling her to sleep.
“Kim Dokja,” Joonghyuk was surprised by how softly those words left his mouth. Dokja flinched a little, before returning his gaze.
“Yoo Joonghyuk.”
Sitting next to Dokja, he noticed the dark circles under the man’s eyes, his breathing was a little shallow, and his eyes were half-lidded. It was good to be honest sometimes, he had learnt this from the connection he forged with Lee Seolhwa in his previous regression. He was still afraid of showing any trace of emotion for anyone. The closer someone was, the more difficult it would be. He saw Seolhwa’s gentle face in front of him, and then he saw the tired Kim Dokja.
“...I said too much earlier.” He finally muttered slowly. Dokja raised his head to look at him, though he didn’t feel like looking at Dokja, he could tell Dokja had a look of surprise on his face.
Dokja let out a soft laugh, tired and breathless, but forgiving. Joonghyuk relaxed his shoulders a little. A few minutes pass, the ticking of Aileen’s clocks on display permeating the quiet night air. Oddly enough. Joonghyuk didn’t feel uncomfortable in this silence. Though he awkwardly focused his eyes onto his knees at first, he found himself closing his eyelids and relishing the peace and quiet that they so rarely got. For once he wasn’t worried about anything. Not until the next day anyway. He heard Dokja’s faint breaths, the slight rising and falling of his chest.
“Kim Dok–” He started but stopped immediately as he tensed against the weight that rested against his arm and shoulder. Dokja leaned against him, his cheek lightly pressed against Joonghyuk’s shoulder, his hair tickling Joonghyuk’s cheek.
“...”
The regressor’s arms had frozen up, his eyes widened in stunned silence.
“...? Sorry I…” Dokja mumbled sleepily, raising his head a little. He was barely awake. “No,” Joonghyuk blurted out, his hands lifting a little but clasping the empty air as he struggled to determine what to do. Dokja paused, and rested back onto his companion’s shoulder, unsure but gentle, careful not to anger him. There was a mix of emotions behind his warmth, the slight confusion of Joonghyuk’s compliance at his touch, the gratitude of having someone by his side. Dokja was too exhausted to process this sequence of events.
Loud, too loud, the thumping in his chest was so annoying he dreaded the fact that Dokja could feel its vibrations.
Joonghyuk willed his mind away from the pulsing beat of his heart in his chest, refocusing on the fact that Dokja’s behavior was all too familiar to him.. To rationalize this series of events of course, to understand how Kim Dokja felt. Because he was his companion and companions should look out for one another. He furrowed his brows, contemplating in deep thought.
Was this how he was? When he had tried and struggled on his own for too long. No, Dokja had his companions. Dokja simply chose not to rely on them. But… He was the same way. Even when he was surrounded by his party members, he had cast them aside. Because he could only rely on himself.
Back then, what was it that I needed the most?
He sat in silence for a long time, before turning to face the man half awake on his shoulder, and reaching an arm around Dokja’s back to clasp his shoulder, pulling him close. Dokja’s body was light yet firm as it pressed snugly against Joonghyuk’s. The latter wondered if his companion had been eating enough.
Though Dokja wasn’t fully awake, the remaining slivers of consciousness he had were momentarily stunned at this motion, but eventually he melted into the touch. Ah, it was so warm.
He fully closed his eyes, leaning against the crook of Joonghyuk’s neck.
“...”
What should he even say? Rest well? Goodnight? After agonizing for a while, Joonghyuk had ultimately opted to stay quiet once again. But his heart betrayed his mind, as he found his thumb gently caressing Dokja’s shoulder in his grasp, his face lingering close to Dokja’s head.
He pressed his lips gingerly against the soft hair.
…
Why did he do that.
Joonghyuk snapped his head away, looking at an empty wall.
This didn’t matter. What mattered was that Dokja had a well rested sleep today, and they got back to business in the morning.
Ping!
Blue notification boxes flooded his peripheral vision.
[The Constellation “Demon-like Judge of Fire” is screaming.]
[The Constellation “Demon-like Judge of Fire” has torn down a wall.]
[The Constellation “Demon-like Judge of Fire” is...]
… He thought the channels were muted because Biyoo was asleep. Joonghyuk stared at the many boxes, before glancing down at the arm of the couch. “Baat.” Biyoo, who had awoken a few minutes ago, gave him a cheeky giggle.
[50,000 coins have been sponsored.]
[10,000 coins have been sponsored.]
Joonghyuk watched with great dismay as his coin count rose drastically.
He sighed.
It would probably take him some time to fall asleep amongst these noisy messages.