Work Text:
“Why are you sitting next to me?” His small voice stuttered. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with them?” He nervously glances back and forth between him and the other kids.
Most of the students were still in the classroom, all huddled together at their respective tables as they ate their homemade lunches or snacks they bought from the school’s snack shop.
They were the only ones isolated from the rest of the class, two small desks huddled together in the back corner of the room. Sitting right next to the window allowed them to feel the fresh breeze coming through, ruffling through his hair.
Yoo Joonghyuk shrugs, and continues to play on his console, ignoring the way the class would glance behind them in surprise.
People were always watching, always judging.
He had grown used to their looks. He knew he was blessed with a rich family, good grades, and obviously, a handsome face. He was born with it all. No wonder people would stare. Especially when he was sitting next to him .
Kim Dokja on the other hand, was born with nothing.
He knew it. Anyone could.
He could tell with the way he tried to cover the bandages around his neck with the collar of his shirt, that had been worn so thin that it could be almost see through. He had guessed it once had been white, but after being worn for so many times it soon became a shade of gray. His hair was always greasy and cut in uneven chops, as if it hadn’t been washed or cut in months. Just looking at his hands, you could tell there was nothing but skin and bone on his body.
Even with the constant stares of the class, he decided to stick around with the other boy.
Dokja diverted his vision outside the window. Watching as the wind shook the trees, birds flying with freedom, spacing out into his own little world.
“Where’s your lunch?” He asked, but it was pointless when he already knew the answer.
The small boy tenses at the question, shrinking back onto his own shoulders. He didn’t think he could get even smaller than he already was.
Taking a break from his console, he tosses it onto his desk with a loud clatter. He reaches into his desk, and quickly pulls out a rectangular metal container. He slides it over onto the other boy's desk, catching him by surprise. He stares at him with wide eyes.
He doesn’t do anything with it. His brows furrow, the tips of his lips were townturned.
“It’s yours,” Joonghyuk explains as he picks up his console.
He immediately pushes the container back onto Joonghyuk’s desk. “I can’t- I can’t accept this-” He shakes his head, dark black hair whipping back and forth in panic.
“ Eat .” Joonghyuk ordered, maybe a little too strongly as he pushed the container closer to him with his elbow.
The boy jumps. Almost like a small mouse, he began to slowly inch towards the box with caution. In his mind, he was debating whether this was a trick or not. Carefully, he opens the top of the metal container, and Joonghyuk swears he could see he was drooling. He gulps as he looks at the warm steam rising out of the container. He had packed kimchi rice for himself that day, but he didn’t really feel hungry at the moment. He could spare his lunch.
Slowly picking up the metal spoon, he begins to eat at a snail's pace. He doesn’t look at anyone, his eyes laser focused on the food in front of him.
Joonghyuk didn’t want to seem creepy, but he couldn’t help but watch him as he ate. His small frail fingers shook as he brought the spoon to his mouth, making sure not a single drop of rice fell off the spoon. It looked like there were stars in his eyes, like he had struck solid gold. He ate slowly, savoring every bite he took almost as if it was his last.
Time flew, and before he knew it, he had finished his meal, while Joonghyuk’s console laid untouched in his hands. When he had taken the final bite, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips, but the stars had left his eyes, and instead a look of longing was left behind. Carefully he closes the lid without making a sound and nervously looks at Joonghyuk.
He flinches when their eyes meet.
“Ah, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi.” He mumbles, eyes glancing at the floor. “Thank you so much for the meal.” His feet shuffle under the desk, his shoes two sizes too small.
Joonghyuk hums, and takes the box away from his hands and stuffs it deep somewhere in his desk. When he looked back, he was back to staring off into space as he glanced through the window.
He went back to playing on his console, knowing full well he wasn’t allowed to during school hours, but it didn’t matter. While he continued to easily clear his game, he couldn’t help but glance back at Dokja from time to time, making sure he wouldn’t disappear with how his presence was forgotten by the people around him.
The bell rang and class would resume once more.
Dokja never looked away from the window.
“Thanks for walking me home Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi. You didn’t have to.” Dokja tries to grin, but it looks crooked.
Joonghyuk had insisted he walked him home to much of his resistance, but after noticing he wouldn’t budge, Dokja could do nothing but let it happen. His apartment building was along the way so it wasn’t like he was going too out of his way.
He seemed nervous the entire time they walked. Scratching his hair, fidgeting with his fingers, steps uneven and out of rhythm. He couldn’t help but notice how short he was as well. Dokja was not just physically thin, but very short for his age as well. He was supposed to be in his first year of high school, and yet he looked as though he barely graduated sixth grade with his height. It seemed he never got his growth spurt, unlike Joonghyuk who had grown double his size.
“Just call me Joonghyuk.” He corrected.
He didn’t like being called by his full name. Not by him. They were almost the same age anyway so it didn’t matter to him. He didn’t have to be so polite, especially to someone who’s ego was already as high as the sky.
“Ah, thank you Joonghyuk-ssi.” He thanks, nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt.
Joonghyuk sighs. It's close enough.
They stood in front of a broken apartment building. It was only a few stories high, with no fence to be seen. Instead, a single unlocked door was at the front of the building, a few dead plants lining the walls. It must have been originally white, but after so much sun damage and lack of maintenance it became a muddy yellow colour.
It was anything but new and safe, but it's where he lived.
Dojka walks ahead and pushes open the door with hinges that we’re screaming out loud to be replaced.
“Goodbye Dokja.” Joonghyuk blurts. He didn’t know why, the words had just escaped his lips before he could think.
Maybe he didn’t want it to be goodbye. Maybe, he wanted to stay by his side, and protect him. He couldn’t though. He can’t change anything, even if he tries.
He whips his head around from his voice. “Oh uh, goodbye Joonghyuk-ssi…” He turns his head back around, and disappears through the small crack in the door
Joonghyuk didn’t want him to go in. He wanted him out of that house, but there was nothing he could do but watch as he walked back into his own living hell.
“Why do you hang out with him?” A girl in his class asked. Her high pitched voice grated his ears. “People like us should stick together, you know, instead of hanging out with a loser like him.”
She was the popular kid in his class, her whole grade even. He hadn’t bothered to remember her name. It wouldn’t matter anyway. She was born into a well off family, had good grades, the perfect looks, blessed with the same circumstances as him.
“Hey, why are you ignoring her?” One of her goons sneered, slamming his hand down onto his table.
He doesn't glance up from his game, instead focused on beating the same easy level for the hundredth time.
Dokja didn't come to school today.
It was boring. Normally, he would glance back and forth between playing his games secretly under his desk and Dokja’s daydreaming figure by the window. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to class that day, not that he ever did, and even debated on leaving mid math class because the teachers mindless rambles were giving him a migraine.
“I do not wish to waste my time.” He snaps, fingers slamming his console a little too hard. “Get out of here.”
He didn’t feel like dealing with her today, nor any other day. She was simply a pain in his ass, distracting him from what he was actually interested in. He didn’t care if she was the most beautiful popular girl in school. She was simply just a spoiled kid with a rotten heart behind her innocent looks.
“Come on Joonghyuk,” She whines. “You could be spending your time way better than with that loser.” She rolls her eyes.
Everybody in class could hear the conversation loud and clear, but nobody bothered to stop it. It was normal. Talking behind Dokja back when he was or wasn’t here. Sometimes, she even had the guts to confront him with said boy right next to him.
“If your whining wasn’t enough to repel me, your stench up close will.” He scoffs, standing up from his seat as it’s metal legs squeak against the floor. It wasn’t hard to tell how easily he was able to tower over everyone around him.
Her goons around him shuffle back, trying to hide themselves behind eachother. They were so weak, sticking to someone like her. They were hoping they could climb the social hierarchy by being liked by one of the school's star students, but it was a waste of time when they didn’t even bother to better themselves or their grades. None of them were wealthy anyway, hanging onto hopeless dreams that would only leave them in a cycle of endless self pity.
She gasps in shock, eyes blown wide in betrayal.
The rest of class is dead silent. Nobody was ballsy enough to battle with her, knowing they would lose the fight against one of the star students, but Joonghyuk was not average.
The migraine in his head only worsened the longer he listened to dumb people talking, and so he quickly left the room. Making sure to slam the door behind him to give them an extra scare. As he walked away, he could hear her endless goons and followers comfort her with meaningless words from his ‘offensive’ ones, as fake tears escaped her eyes.
He didn’t care who’s fragile feelings he hurt. Whoever couldn’t handle him was their problem, not his.
Nobody bothered to follow him, which he was thankful for. He quickly left the school gates, hoping he would never have to go back to that place.
He came back with more bandages concealing his body like a mummy, and even a small bruise on his forehead that he couldn’t conceal well with the white bandaid on top of it.
“Where’d you get that?” Joonghyuk interrogated him, but he knew it would be pointless in the end.
Everytime he missed a day of school, he would come back with another bruise, another limp arm, another injury that he would always blame on his own ‘clumsiness’.
‘I fell down a flight of stairs by accident .’ or ‘I tripped and fell while I was walking by accident .’
It was always some sort of ‘accident’ that always occurred in his life.
He never believed it though. Nobody around him did. They knew what was happening, but they simply ignored it, not wanting to be caught up in the drama.
“I was opening a tall cabinet, and accidently hit my head.” He lied through his teeth, giving a small useless smile instead.
It was such an obvious lie. He doubted Dokja was even tall enough to hit his head against a kitchen cupboard.
Joonghyuk sighs in disappointment. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how welcoming he tried to be, he would never open up. He knew it was hard to tell his intentions with his expressionless face and his famously cold exterior, but he really did care for him. He never thought he would ever get attached to another human, and yet here he was proving himself wrong.
“Don’t do it again.” He ordered.
Dojka nodded his head, but quickly turned away. The words meant nothing to him no matter how many times Joonghyuk told him. It was out of his control.
The sliding of the classroom door silenced the class quickly, and soon they began another useless lesson he would soon forget.
Just like always, he would glance at Dokja.
Dark black bruises climbing his neck like poison ivy, black eyes that seemed to form out of nowhere, cut along his hands and arms that he would try and cover, but couldn’t help but hiss in pain when he washed his hands.
That was Kim Dokja’s normal.
He was tired of the same schedule.
Wake up and get dressed in the same white button up uniform and black pants.
Make himself a lunch, when in reality it would always becomes Dokja’s. After some point, he began to pack two lunches. Even though he would reject it everytime, in the end he would succumb to Joonghyuk's persistence.
Walk to school, passing by the crumbling apartment building where Dokja lived, before continuing his way to school.
If Dokja never reached his desk that day, he would ditch and go waste his time somewhere. Sometimes wait in front of Dokja’s building, maybe sit at home and do nothing, or spend his time at a nearby gaming cafe.
If he was there, he would count the new bandages, cuts, and bruises, mentally marking them in his head. They didn’t really talk. There was nothing to talk about. The school bell would ring and the two would walk to his apartment together. Sending him back off into his prison. He would get home, opening the door to silence. Sit on the couch, and waste his time for the rest of the day.
It was endless.
It felt as though the same day were repeating over and over. A never ending, dreadful reality.
Maybe this is how life is for everyone.
Bland, lifeless, and boring.
Then again, that was his life.
Dokja’s would be described differently.
Bruises, lies, and broken.
“Let's go to my place.” Joonghyuk said one day.
The two were standing in front of the familiar apartment building that was now ingrained into his mind. The crumbing walls were almost comforting, if he didn’t know what was happening behind it.
“What?” Dojka whispered, surprised laced within his voice.
“Let's go to my place.” He repeated, and before he could deny, he grabbed onto his way to thin arm.
Pulling him was almost like holding a feather. So light it was like he wasn’t even holding him. It was obvious he was trying to struggle, but with Joonghyuk’s iron grip, there was no way he was escaping.
“I- I can’t. I have to go home-” Dokja tried to retort, trying to pull his arm out of his hold before being silenced by Joonghyuk’s hand over his mouth.
His eyes are blown wide, jaw clenched shut when he removes his hand from his face. After being effectively silenced, he continues to drag him all the way to his house. Dokja’s arm loosens, all the fight in him disintegrating the farther they get from his ‘home’.
Joonghyuk drags him home in silence, not letting go of his arm like a leash of a dog. He was careful not to be too rough, knowing how easily the kid could bruise.
He walks up to his front door, and quickly grabs the key from his pocket to let them inside. Dojka’s jaw drops the moment he gets a glance at the inside. Joonghyuk opens the door and the two quickly take off their shoes, leaving them behind at the door as Dojka continues to marvel at his home.
“You don’t have to be so impressed. It's just a house.” Joonghyuk rolls his eyes.
He never actually liked his home. It was too lonely and was boring to look at. He quite liked simplicity, as it was easy and matched his personality but sometimes, he wished his home reflected the person he was more. Maybe an award he had won from some sort of competition, or maybe even a small photo of him and Dokja together on the wall instead of the same solid white paint.
Dokja flinches, and he quickly glances downward at the ground once again in embarrassment. Joonghyuk immediately regretted his words the moment after he said them, knowing the meaning would change depending on the person
“Let's go get something to eat. I’m hungry.” Joonghyuk tries to lighten the mood. quickly disappears through the maze of doors, Dojka quickly follows behind him.
He wasn’t actually hungry, he just wanted Dokja to get something to eat and feel more comfortable.
“What do you like to eat?” Joonghyuk asked, opening the fridge to examine what ingredients he had at home.
He had some cabbage, bean sprouts, green onion, chives, eggs, and other ingredients that he had leftover when he made their lunches. Most of the time, he would order food for dinner, too lazy to actually cook something for himself. This time though, he knew Dokja would need a warm fulfilling meal.
“Oh umm…” Dokja stuttered, unsure of what he should be doing at the moment. “Anything is fine.” he shrugged.
Grabbing the ingredients in his fridge, as well as some dumpling wrappers he began to prepare to make some mermin dumplings.
Dokja didn’t move. Instead, he stood there awkwardly and simply watched Joonghyuk move around the kitchen with such fluidity it looked easy. He was the type who wouldn’t do anything unless he was told, and looked as though he wanted to help.
“Go get an apron.” Joonghyuk motioned towards a black apron hanging against one of the handles of the cupboard.
He quickly followed orders and tied the apron around his body. The apron was his, meaning it was way too big on him. Dokja put his head through the strings, and then began to try and tie the strings on the back. He stood there awkwardly as his fingers fumbled, before he could struggle anymore, Joonghyuk pushed his hands away and tied the knot for him.
Dokja’s face turns bright red. “Thank you…”
Joonghyuk just nodded his head and put him straight to work.
“Can you chop this for me?“ Joonghyuk slid over a cutting board with fresh green onions on it.
Dokja nodded his head and quickly picked up the knife, beginning to cut the onion into uneven choppy pieces. The way he cut was making him nervous. He wasn’t paying attention to his other hand that was holding on the onion stems, fingers sticking out and getting close to the knife.
“Hold them like this so you don’t cut yourself.” Joonghyuk quickly places his hands on top of Dokja’s smaller ones, tucking in his fingers and fixing the way he was holding the knife.
He didn’t need anymore accidents.
Dokja’s face goes bright red for what felt like the hundredth time. “T-Thank you.” He quickly continued to cut the onion into uneven pieces, but he didn’t really care as long as he didn’t hurt himself.
The two continued to cook in peace, Joonghyuk ordering around Dokja as they prepared the meal. When it came to wrapping the dumplings, Joonghyuk’s came out perfectly shaped with practiced ease, while Dokja’s were either over or under stuffed, edges falling apart before he could even set them down.
When they finally finished, he had also warmed up some chicken broth that they could have with their meal.
“Thank you for the meal.” Dokja smiles. It wasn’t a large grin, but a small smile that only painted the corners of his lips.
Joonghyuk nodded his head, and grabbed a warm dumpling from the large plate where they had stacked the freshly cooked dumplings and tossed it into his mouth. Dokja quickly followed, and began to sip from his broth and take a few dumplings for himself.
The two ate in comforting silence. They didn’t say a word, they didn’t need to. All they needed was each other's presence. Joonghyuk wished he could have eaten there forever with Dojka sitting next to him, enjoying the meal they had made together .
He wanted to tell him, ‘You're not alone .’ but he never got the chance.
Dokja didn’t come to school the next day.
“You piece of shit. You should have never been born.” The boys snicker as they kicked him onto the cold ground with a loud thump.
Dokja had said he needed to use the bathroom and was taking longer than normal. Even before Joonghyuk entered the bathroom, he could hear the boys taunting him, along with the sounds of sniffing.
“You're so ugly anyway, why do you even hang out with him?” A loud thump echoed through the bathroom, almost like a body hitting a wall.
Joonghyuk quickened his pace as he entered with silent footsteps, making sure the other boys couldn’t hear him coming up from behind.
Dokja was on the floor, leaning against the back wall under the window as he tried to shield his body with his thin arms. A shoe mark was etched onto the chest of his shirt.
“What are you idiots doing.” Joonghyuk stern voice pierced through the room.
The three boys that had surrounded Dokja froze, and slowly turned their heads around with fear painted on their faces.
It was so dumb. The moment people had any power over another person, they were quick to abuse it. But, the moment anyone higher than them came around, they would quickly scurry away like rodents running from their prey.
“We were- We were doing noth-” Before the boy could finish his sentence, a loud smack noise echoed through the halls.
Joonghyuk’s pulled his hand away from the boy, leaving a bright red cheek behind. “Get out.” He growled. It wasn’t a warning.
Before they could think twice, the boys ran out with alarming speed, cursing under their breaths for being caught. They yelled “Youll pay for this you fucker!” and other curses, but they fell on deaf ears when all Joonghyuk cared about was the boy in front of him.
He kneels down and checks on Dokja for any injuries. Other than a nasty bruise that would form, as well as a dirty shirt, it didn’t seem like he had any broken bones or other major injuries. He offers his hand out for Dokja, and with shaky hands he takes it and pulls himself up.
“Thank you… Joonghyuk-ssi.” He whispers, avoiding all eye contact. He walked past him and began to splash his face with the cold water, trying to rid of the puffiness around his eyes.
Joonghyuk hums, and carefully watches him as he winces as the cold water and soap run over the destroyed skin on his hand.
Joonghyuk never let him use the bathroom alone again.
Dokja came over whenever he could.
At first, it took him some convincing to come over, but as time went on he grew more and more comfortable. They would cook dinner together, and share a warm meal over the table every night.
Dokja was really interested in online web novels. So whenever he was over, the two would sit side by side together on the couch as Joonghyuk continued to smash his console keys while Dokja scrolled on his laptop that he let him borrow, reading to his heart's content.
He had tried asking him what type of novels he read, but he would always shake his head and try to hide his screen. It wasn’t like he was dying to know, and so he let it be. Until he didn’t when he went through his search history and reloading the websites again. He began to read the first chapter of ‘The Way of Survival’ or whatever long name it was called. In Joonghyuk personal opinion, the writing sucked and was too repetitive, and so he was quick to drop it. He didn’t understand why Dokja would get so excited everyday when a new chapter was posted, but everyone had different tastes.
Joonghyuk would never admit it, but he was lonely too. Living alone in such a large home was suffocating. Every meal alone with only his own thoughts that he wanted gone. Having his presence there brought him a sense of comfort he didn’t even know he was longing for.
Even though he spent more time at his house, the bruises were still there. They always were. Just when he thought they would disappear, they would come back just as fast. It was getting worse too. No matter how hard Dokja tried, he could never conceal the truth as much as he wished he could.
Would it ever end?
“Let's go to my place.” Joonghyuk said, just like always.
Normally, he would nod his head and follow him. Today, he froze.
“Oh um… I’m sorry. I don’t think I can come over today…” Dokja muttered. He scratched his neck nervously.
Dokja had been more jumpy recently. Whenever he talked to him, slid over his lunch box, or even sat down next to him in class it was almost like he was having a heart attack from how spooked he was getting.
“Let's go.” Joonghyuk continued to walk past his apartment building. He didn’t take no for an answer, especially when the answer meant being able to avoid sending him off to his prison cell for a little longer. Maybe he was a little selfish too, wanting to be with Dokja everyday.
“I can’t!” He yelled, startling Joonghyuk and made him stop in his tracks.
He looked behind him, and was surprised by what he saw.
His hands were gripped tight, nails digging deep into his fist, almost about to break the skin. He didn’t dare look him straight in the eye, instead glancing down at his shoes. He was desperate.
Dokja always struggled with speaking his own mind, always following orders from the people around him. It wasn’t like he enjoyed it, it was just the only way his mind could understand how to survive.
“I can’t, I can’t come today… Sorry…” He muttered, and before Joonghyuk could react, he quickly ran the other way back, escaping through the doors of his apartment building.
He didn’t know how to react. He had never done that before, catching him by complete surprise.
He couldn’t really chase after him since he didn’t know which room number he was, nor did he wish to breach his privacy to the point of chasing him home. Then again, maybe he should have. No matter what he did, he was sure the end result would be the same.
He walked home alone for the first time in a while.
Dokja missed school. Again.
Normally, Joonghyuk would dismiss it. He knew what was happening, but there was nothing he could do about it.
This time though, the circumstances were different.
Something had happened last night. Something that wasn’t happening before.
It brought him a sense of unease.
During class, he couldn’t help but shake his leg anxiously, annoying his classmates around him. He didn’t care though. He never did. Walking home from school that day was boring, but right after he passed by his apartment building, he stopped.
What if he…?
Without a second thought, he quickly turned around and went back towards the familiar building. He pushed open the creaky door that’s hinges were rusted to the core.
Walking into the building wasn’t any better than the exterior. The flashing fluorescent lights didn’t bring him any sense of ease, as well as the fact there wasn’t a single window in sight. He had never bothered to ask which room number he lived in, and so instead he would have to ask around.
Knocking on the first door he saw, he was met with silence. He knocked again, and again nobody responded. He quickly went to the next door, no response, then the next, no response and so on. The apartment complex was dead silent, to the point where he debated that nobody was even living there.
Finally after what felt like forever, he heard some noise coming from behind one of the doors. Taking a deep breath, he carefully knocked three times. All movement behind the door came to a halt.
“I know your home.” Joonghyuk raised his voice so they could hear through the door. He thought maybe they would just ignore him, but by surprise a voice responded.
“What do you want?” An annoyed voice was muffled through the door.
“Do you know which room Kim Dojka lives in?” Joonghyuk asked, knowing whoever was behind this crusty door was most likely looking through the peephole.
“Why should I tell you?” What he guessed was a lady scoffed.
Joonghyuk mentally thanked himself when the teacher had asked anybody in the class if they wanted to deliver Dokja’s homework to him. Nobody in class raised their hand. Joonghyuk, normally would ignore such a request, but since it involved Dokja, he was the only student who stood up from his seat to grab the packet.
“I’m here to drop off his homework since he didn’t come to school today.” He technically wasn’t lying.
He was met with silence, most likely debating his answer. After what seemed like a few minutes of him tapping his foot impatiently, the lady responded. “He’s in room 40. Now shoo.”
Without a second to lose, he quickly makes his way towards the stairs and begins climbing. Each step was slightly nerve wracking as the stairs themself moved under his weight, swaying as if they could fall down at any second. To be honest, the entire building could have collapsed with how rotten the wood was.
Finally, he reached the third floor where he would be. At the very far end of the hallway stood room 40, its small numbers fading away on the front door. There was no movement coming from the room, but he decided to knock anyway. If his hearing wasn’t tricking him, he swore he could hear the small sounds of someone shuffling feet behind the door.
“I’m Yoo Joonghyuk and I came here to give Kim Dokja his homework.” He stated. He doubted his parents were the type to open the door, and so maybe if it was for school and his son's education they would be forced to open it.
He didn’t know if it would work but it was worth a try anyway.
Surprisingly, he heard the loud sounds of clicking from the door unlocking. The door didn’t open fully, the deadbolt latch still in place. Behind it, he could see Dokja’s black hair peek through the small crack.
“What are you doing here?” He whispers.
Joonghyuk quickly digs through his backpack, and hands over the homework packet he was given. He knew it was useless. Dokja never came to class with his homework done anyway, so in reality this was a waste of his time. But he couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to see him, and so he concealed his feelings with what most called star student behavior.
“I’m here to deliver your homework.” He shrugged.
Dokja’s slim fingers slid through the small crack and grabbed the papers.
“Thanks for coming to deliver these… I guess…” Dokja seemed weary. “I have to go now…bye” and closed the door quickly, the familiar noise of locking it shut echoing through the hall.
Joonghyuk felt like someone had just slapped him in the face. He had appeared and left so soon that his eyes couldn’t even remember what expression he was making. Were his parents home? Was that why he couldn’t leave? Or was it another reason? He really didn’t know. He just wanted Dokja by his side again.
He was so close. So close…
Whenever Dokja would miss school, he always made sure to be the first to stand up to deliver his homework. It wasn’t like it would actually get done, but it gave him the chance to see him on days he wouldn’t come to school.
Every time, he would try and glance through the small crack of the doors to see if anyone else was there. His mother, his father? He couldn’t tell who else he lived with, every time he came it was always empty.
But he didn’t live alone either. There has to be someone there to give him those bruises.
Joonghyuk was tired of being rejected from the front door after the first time of being left in front of a closed front door. He was already risking his life for him by climbing up the stairs that were ready to crumble at any moment, and wanted to make his efforts worth more.
“Let me help you with your homework.” Joonghyuk offered, catching Dokja by complete surprise.
“What?” He tilted his head.
He missed seeing his face. Sure, he would probably come back to school tomorrow, but he wanted to see him now.
“I’ll tutor you.” He repeated.
He doubted he could actually tutor him. Sure, he knew the material, but actually teaching it was ten times as hard. He was told that his stoic face was difficult to read, and the fact that he only said the bare minimum was no help.
“There’s no need…” He shakes his head vigorously.
Joonghyuk glares daggers towards him, sending shivers down Dokja’s spine. He never liked threatening him, but a small selfish part of him wanted to be next to him. Meaning, he would have to be a little forceful to get what he wanted.
“Fine… But… it'll have to be quick…” He disappears, and he could hear the deadbolt latch swinging open. “Please don’t judge…”
Joonghyuk nodded as the door swung open, and immediately the smell of alcohol hit him full force.
The place was old and smelly. It was a one room apartment with two other doors that he guessed lead to a closet or bathroom. The wooden floor creaked under every step, some even coming up from the floor and becoming a tripping hazard. The window’s glass was shattered, allowing the cold wind from outside to enter. There was a wooden board placed over it to cover it up, but it did nothing to help. He was sure it was violating the building standards, but the city hadn’t done anything to change it. A small kitchen counter, with a small fridge that created a loud buzzing sound. He doubted there was anything but alcohol that was stored there. Next to it, a small rectangular table, but it only had three chairs, the fourth placed directly in front of a small television. In the back corner of the room, a large pile of old pillows, all faded in color, were squished together. A single lumicint light in the center of the room, creating a yellow hue around the room. It wasn’t so bright, meaning as he entered, his eyes had to adjust from the lack of light.
“Sorry, we have no cups left after…” Dokja’s shoulder’s slump in embarrassment as they get closer to the table.
Joonghyuk shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t really like he was much of an amazing host either. He made Dokja cook, and told him to grab whatever he needed. Otherwise, he never really went out of his way to get him a cup of water or tea. He made himself as comfortable as one could on an old chair that was ready to snap at any moment. Dokja carefully slid next to him, and opened the folder he had brought him.
Dokja never actually wrote down any notes during class, but somehow he had some notes already written down in his notebook. He glances over, and is surprised when he spots lessons dated from years ago in a completely different subject
He knew Dokja was neglectful of his studies, but even to Joonghyuk this was a surprise. He reaches into his pencil case and hands him one of his pencils when he doesn’t take out his pen pouch.
“Oh, don’t worry I already have one.” Dokja takes out a single pencil that was the exact same size as his hand from his backpack, with a dull tip on the end that looked like someone had tried to sharpen it with anything but a sharpener.
With every moment, Joonghyuk impression on his lifestyle declined even more. He knew it wasn’t the best situation, and he tried not to be too judgemental about it, but he could help but feel like a ten pound weight dropped in his gut when he saw how miserable he was. In his mind, he made sure to mentally note to make sure he would give Dokja everything once this was all over.
“You can have mine.” Joonghyuk had plenty of other pencils. It didn’t matter if he lost one, when he could easily just go out to the market and buy another one.
Dokja’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure?”
He nodded his head. Dokja carefully lifts his brand new pencil off his hands and examines the new tip.
“Thank you.” Dokja’s cheeks turn a light pink.
Joonghyuk was going to begin teaching him, but the sound of the door unlocking and squeaking open brought the lesson to a pause.
Dokja’ freezes, and whips his head around to look who came in. His shoulders deflate the moment he sees the familiar figure of his mother.
“Welcome back home.” He says, voice filled with excitement like a small child.
Joonghyuk could tell the two were related. They had the same face shape, down to their eyes and the cheekbones. The only difference was the shade of their hair. While Dokja was a dark black, his mother’s was a lighter shade of brown. It seemed like she had just gotten back from work, as she was wearing a gray shirt with a logo along with black pants and her hair tied up into a bun.
Her eyes widen with fear when she spots the new figure sitting next to him. “Who’s this?”
Had Dokja talked about him to his mother? Since he came over to his place so often, he was sure he must have at least told her about him with the fact that he wasn’t home as often, or at least he hoped.
He nervously fidgets with his fingers. “Oh um… This is Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi. He’s helping me with my homework.”
They were going to before being interrupted, but he didn’t mind. It was obvious that Dokja liked his mother. With the way she looked at her son he could tell that she cared for him deeply. In return, it looked like Dokja had stars in his eyes when he looked back at her.
“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Lee Sookyung. Pleased to meet you.” She smiles gently at him. “Thank you so much for taking care of him so often. He struggles a lot with his school work and is always behind.” She chuckles.
“Eomma!” Dojka’s cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment.
Joonghyuk had seen people like her before. They were once their own person, living to spread kindness to the world before it got ripped away by a bad marriage. They would find a man that they thought was perfect, but the moment the wedding was over they would realize how terrible they were, but too afraid to get a divorce. They would then be forced to have a child, and be bound to their husbands for the rest of their lives. No matter how many times it happened, there would always be another woman who would fall victim to the same cycle.
Lee Sookyung was one of them.
She carefully closes the door behind her, and stands there awkwardly unsure of what to do. Dokja must have never had invited guests over before, and awkwardly made her way to the television and sat down on the floor. She began adjusting the nobs, making sure the volume was low enough that only she could fully understand the words, while to the people around her just sounded like muffled sounds.
He finally begins to start teaching him about the math lesson that happened today, but since Dokja hadn’t been paying attention for the entire year, he had no clue what he was even talking about. It would be long and difficult to explain, but Joonghyuk would have to try his best.
Joonghyuk would never admit it, but he loved being with Dokja. Something about him calmed his nerves, allowing him to finally let down the metal walls he covered himself in and let himself relax. He wished he could have stayed there forever, as he watched Dokja messialy try and copy his perfect notes that he totally didn’t take from the kid next to him at the end of class today just so he could help out Dokja.
Suddenly, the sounds of the door unlocking echo through the room. Dokja freezes, and the sound of the television immediately stops.
It must be him .
Dokja panicked, and grabbed onto Joonghyuk’s wrist. “Hide in the closet!” Before he could even think, Dokja had stuffed him into what was the only other door other than the bathroom.
The issue was, Joonghyuk was way taller than Dokja, by a lot. Meaning, somewhere Dokja had no problem hiding, was way too small for him. He knew he wouldn’t fit, but that didn’t stop him from tossing him into the closet and shut the doors quickly. After uncomfortably squeezing into the small space, he made sure to leave a small crevice open so he could peek outside.
Dokja had run off somewhere else in the room, most likely hiding in the kitchen cupboards or the bathroom. He wasn’t very sure as most of his vision was blocked by the wooden doors.
He could hear the stomps grow closer and closer, to the point where they stood right in front of him. He held his breath, fear creeping up his neck like a bug getting ready to bite. Thankfully, but not so thankfully, there was something else to distract him.
That something was his wife.
“You fucking piece shit” he muttered under his breath. “Get me a soju.”
He could swear he could smell the reek of alcohol coming off the man already. To his relief, he went back and sat down on the single chair in front of the television.
The soft footsteps of Dokja’s mother came closer, a glass bottle in hand. He grabs the bottle from her hand, almost smacking her in the face at the same time, but he didn’t care. He quickly snapped open the cork with a satisfying pop, and quickly chugs it straight from the glass bottle. He thought it would be okay, before he heard a shatter echo through the entire apartment.
“What the fuck is that?!?” He cursed. “Why’s it fucking lukewarm lady?!?” He grabs onto her hair, and before he could even blink, he slams her against the ground with a loud thump.
She cries out in pain, but doesn’t try to get up from the floor. Standing up from his chair, he begins to kick her, every time his foot makes contact, the vibrations travel through the weak floorboards. She takes every kick, laying limp like a doll on the floor with her arms crossed to at least try and protect some of her dignity. He lets out a stream of curses, cursing out everyone and everything.
He still had no idea where Dokja had decided to hide, as he didn’t see many hiding spots other than this closet. He wishes he could just jump out and find him, and rescue him from the dangers.
She continued to groan out in pain, taking kick after kick. It was disgusting to watch. A full grown man, beating the hell out of his wife.
Is this what Dokja fell asleep to every night? The sounds of his father beating his mother to pulp?
When he really thought about it, what did their neighbors think? Had they never thought to call the police on them about the loud noise complaints. Had they never wondered why every night they could hear the cries of a woman echoing through their thin walls?
It went on for what he felt like forever, his body becoming sore from being squished into such a small space for so long. He felt like puking. He knew how cruel the world was, but seeing it in person made him feel sick. He had done terrible things before, but they never had made him feel like this.
“STOP” Suddenly, a small, familiar voice ran out into the chaos. “DON'T HURT HER” Dokja’s cries went on deaf ears.
“What are you doing?!?” Joonghyuk cursed. “Get back to your hiding spot!” Dokja couldn’t hear him though, and instead he jumped in front of his mother and tried blocking her with his arms.
“STOP” his voice cracked as he yelled.
Nobody heard him.
His father didn’t care. Instead, he continued to kick at his small body, focusing on releasing his anger by beating him to a pulp next.
“I can’t believe I married your fucking useless of a mother, only to get just as useless child.” he growled, each kick creating a loud cracking sound.
Joonghyuk had to act.
Using his elbow, he pushes against the cabinet doors, but they don't budge. He tried again, this time with more force, but they didn’t move an inch. Somebody must have blocked it from the outside, or something else was interfering. He continued to bang against the cabinet door with all his might, but no matter how desperate he tried, they wouldn’t move. All he could do was watch as his closest companion got beaten to a pump, not even bothering to fight back against it.
He hadn't noticed while he was desperately trying to get out of the closet, but Dokja’s mother was able to grab one of the empty glass bottles that littered the floor. Inching up behind him, she raises it above his head, and smashes the bottle straight into his skull as it explodes into tiny glass shards that flew across the room.
Shocked, he stumbled back and slammed against the wall with a loud thump. Dokja doesn’t move from his spot, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
Joonghyuk thought she had done the right thing. Boy was he wrong.
He thought that after a hit like that, he would be too stunned to move, or maybe even uncouses, but he was proven otherwise. It has only angered him more. With wobbly legs he grabbed another empty bottle from his pile, and smashed the edge against the wall creating a dangerous sharp weapon in his hands. He pushes himself up from the wall, and has his eyes dead set on his wife
“You fucking bitch!!!!” He screams, and charges straight at her.
Throughout the struggle, Joonghyuk continued to try and break free, but nothing worked. He was trapped. And all he could do was watch as the moment unfolded.
She tried to run, but in such a small cramped apartment there was nowhere to go. He raised his arm, and stabbed the glass sharks straight into her shoulder. A shrill, pain filled scream bounces off the blank walls, making Dokja jump out of his faze on the floor.
He looks up to see his father, kicking and punching the living hell out of his wife as he corners her. He spots the red blood oozing out of her arm and staining her gray shirt, dropping onto the ground and staining it bright red.
With weak wobbly arms, he slowly pushes himself off from the ground. He quickly disappears from Joonghyuk line of sight, as well as he couldn’t hear what he was doing through all the noise.
He silently prayed that he was escaping, running out the door as fast as he could.
He saw the reflection of Dokja’s face on the knife he held in his own small hands.
Joonghyuk's heart dropped.
Dokja had the look of pure fear painted on his face. Such an expression should have never been there. He should have been living a normal life. He should have been going out with friends, going out to gaming cafes, maybe even doing his homework.
Not this.
In seconds, the knife slices through his fathers skin, making the man freeze in his tracks. He stumbled backwards, onto the floor as blood began to stain his white shirt a bright red. The man was speechless, processing the pain in his chest.
Dokja had stabbed him in the back. Right in the center where his heart would be.
His mother froze, seeing her son stand there with shaky arms, tears welling up in her eyes.
All he could sense was an aura of fear. Dokja’s collared shirt was stained red, not of his fathers blood but from his own bloody nose that was dripping down his face.
In seconds, she had her arms wrapped around him. She gently caresses his hair, keeping her arms wrapped tight around his quaking body.
“I- I-” He tried to speak, but no words were able to escape his mouth.
His mother let their body drop to the ground as both of their legs gave out underneath them as adrenaline slowly dissipated from their systems. His sobs fill the room, overpowering his fathers labored breaths.
“It’s going to be okay.” She whispered into his ear. “I’m going to take care of it.”
Dokja was stuck in his state of shock, eyes filled to the brim with tears that unleashed themselves onto his mother’s dirty shirt. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-“ She quickly shushes him with a gentle hand.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of it.”
The two stay there for a little longer, in each other's embrace.
Maybe, it was because she knew that this would be the last time she would be able to hold her son in her arms ever again. Minutes tick by like seconds, and soon enough Dokja’s father’s breath began to get slower and slower, all the way until his chest ceased to move.
“I love you.” She whispers her final words into his ear. Carefully, she picks up her son with ease, and carries him over to the small pile of pillows in the corner that must have been his bed. She places him down and tucks his blanket in, ignoring the way the blood that stained both of their shirts began to dry.
She tries to let go, but Dokja’s hand has an iron grip on hers.
“Please-” Sobs continued to escape his eyes, each hiccuping breaking Joonghyuk’s heart little by little.
“Shhh.” She tucks Dokja’s oily hair behind his ear, and kisses him on the forehead. Finally he lets go.
She walks over to the small dining table and picks up a old flip phone, and quickly dials in a number. The phone only rings for a few seconds, before immediately being picked up.
“I just killed my husband.”
Dokja was forced to live with his close relatives nearby.
They hated him.
They despised his presence like every other person in class. Like he was a never ending problem.
He stopped talking. Living life on autopilot as the days flew by. The bandages had left his body, but it left behind millions of scars that would never disappear. His eye bags looked almost as black as his hair. Sure, the physical injuries were gone, but that didn’t mean the mental damage of it all had healed either.
Joonghyuk had tried. He continued to bring him lunches, but he rejected them all. Always saying he wasn’t hungry. He was forced to stop coming over, and after school, he was required to go straight home where he would be fed dinner and then locked into his room where they wouldn’t have to look at his face.
“They told me they could never look at me in the same way…” He whispers. “Maybe because I look so much like her.”
Joonghyuk felt like there was a fire burning in him.
Dokja was never given anything. He was never given a caring father, a loving family, or nice friends, nothing.
The only thing he was ever given was his mother, who also was given life’s worst circumstances. She had nothing to give other than her love, they only had each other, but no matter how hard he tried to soak it all in it was never enough to fill the hole. She was the duct tape that held together his world, and so when she was arrested, she had destroyed Dokja’s fragile binding.
Joonghyuk wanted to hug him. He wanted to embrace him just like his mother had at that moment. To keep him safe from the cruel world he was born into. But, he was scared the moment he grabbed his hand he would crumble under him, leaving dust in his presence.
How long did he live like this?
“You're such a disgusting monster.” A kid snickered. “Should I be scared you're gonna kill me too? Just like your mom did?”
The boys around the table giggle. It wasn’t even funny.
Dokja didn’t move. Like always, he glanced out the window, wishing he could get out this god forsaken place for the millionth time.
The boys didn’t like how he ignored him.
“You little fucker.” One tsks. “Answer me!” He grabs onto his collar, lifting him up from his chair and forcing him to look at him straight in the face.
Dokja looks down, never making eye contact.
“Let go of him.” Joonghyuk ordered, standing up from his seat with a loud clang, the legs of his chair squeaking against the floor.
The boy scoffs. “Why should I listen to you?” He began sizing him up, glancing up and down debating whether he could beat him or not.
“I don't understand why you even bother with a murder like him.” One of the other boys chimed in.
He hasn’t realized how cruel children could be until now. Sure, he understood how annoying and bratty they were, but he never realized how much they could destroy someone’s life with their selfish actions.
“He hasn’t murdered anyone.” he knew it was a lie, but the words escaped his lips before he could think.
Dokja flinched. He knew he was lying, and with those words guilt flooded over him once again.
Anger filled his veins as the class treated Dokja as if he was just an annoying brat who made their life miserable. He did nothing to them, he didn’t even talk to them. So why, so why were they wasting their energy just to make themselves feel better, and ruining his life?
“Well it must be in the genes right?” The boy slammed Dokja back into his chair with so much force he toppled right over. The sounds of his head crashing into the back wall echoed through the classroom.
Nobody went to help him.
Before Joonghyuk could even think, he grabbed the main boy by the arm. He immediately tenses from the contact.
“Woah, woah, woah,” he tried to struggle free but Joonghyuk’s grip was stronger. He had an iron grip on his arm to the point where he knew it would bruise. “It was just a joke. It was just a joke-“
Joonghyuk balled his fist, and punched him straight in the face with a painful blow. The boy stumbles backwards into the other boys, all falling over like dominos.
“Get out of here” he warned, eyes glowing with vengeance.
The class is dead silent, watching the events unfold. He thought about how useless people were. They could know, even watch such disgusting acts play right in front of them, but none of them would ever move. Especially when it was somebody that everyone avoided like the plague.
The boys scaddle in their top speeds, running away from Joonghyuk’s threatening figure. Dokja hadn't moved from the floor.
He scoops his arm under Dokja’s back, and carries him out the classroom.
If he wasn’t here, what would he have done?
Joonghyuk always got to class before Dokja. He didn’t know why. There was no reason for him to be in class on time. Maybe it was because he wanted to make sure to be the first to see him walking through the door. Dokja was always out of breath when he came to class, most likely climbing all the way to the fifth floor in a rush.
Today though, when he walked in, a bunch of boys and girls were huddled around Dokja’s small desk in the back corner. They snickered to themself as they muttered insults about the boy, while the people around them agreed.
Joonghyuk sat down at his desk with a loud thump, making the entire class jump. Noticinging his presence, they quickly retreat back to their seats, knowing if they mess with Dokja, they would mess with him.
He noticed faint writing on Dokja’s desk, and when he glanced over, pencil markings were left all over his desk. I was covered in hateful words, inusting drawings, and everything of the sort. Joonghyuk thought today would be another mindless day, but he was proven wrong. He stood up from his seat and began to erase all the hateful words, ignoring the way the class glared at him silently.
He was going through enough now, he didn’t need anything more on his plate.
Dokja came to class that day, ignorant of what had happened behind the scenes. It was better that way.
After that, Joonghyuk thought it would be a one time event, but to his anger it continued. Everyday when he walked into class, more kids would huddle around his desk, growing in numbers. Everyone ran from their spot when they noticed him sliding open the door.
With an annoyed sigh, he glances at the same insulting words with large black ink painted over Dokja’s desk. They changed tactics, and made it more permanent so he couldn’t mess with it. Thankfully, he came prepared, just in case something like this would happen. From his backpack he took out alcohol wipes, and began to wipe down the table. It was harder than last time with the permanent markers, but since it was still fresh he was able to get most of it off. All that was left behind was the subtle smudges of black ink, but it was good enough.
Dokja glanced at him when he noticed the leftover ink, but Joonghyuk ignored it.
Then it happened again. This time though, they engraved it into the desk.
The other students must have been getting tired of him erasing all their efforts, and so the only way they could keep him from messing with it was by engraving it straight into the wood with their scissors. These were unerasable. No matter what he did there would be no way he would be able to get out the engravings in time.
Without a second thought, Joonghyuk began to rearrange the desks, switching out his and Dokja’s. He didn’t mind the words, they didn’t mean anything to him.
Dokja walks into class, breathless like always from mad dahsing up them in under a minute. He quickly walks over to his seat and sits down silently to avoid the many eyes on him as they wait for a reaction. He glances towards Joonghyuk, and his eyes immediately notice the engravings on his desk.
Dokja wasn’t dumb. He knew those were for him.
“You don’t to try so hard Joonghyuk-ssi.” He frowns. “It doesn’t bother me.” He tries to give him a comforting grin, but he could tell through his crooked smile that it was a lie. He knew how deep the words cut. Dokja was the type to take everything he was given, meaning even though he was used to it, it didn't mean it would hurt any less compared to any other person.
“It's none of your business.” He grits, and countries to smash his console buttons a little too hard.
In reality, it was none of Joonghyuk’s business. He was the one getting involved with Dokja, but he wanted to. But, even he knew no matter how hard he tried, the end result would always be the same.
The classroom door slides open, and a teacher walks into class with a clipboard. “Could Yoo Joonghyuk please follow me to the staff office?” The teacher scanned the classroom looking for said boy.
The class is dead silent, all eyes glancing behind them as they wonder and speculate why he was being called in the first place. He was considered a star student, not that he really cared, but being called to the office during class was a big deal. He glanced over to Dokja, and like always he was daydreaming. With a blank expression, he stood up from his seat and made his way to the door.
It was almost like a walk of shame, if it hadn’t been him, he doubted anyone could have survived the humiliation. Everyone’s hungry eyes examine him from head to toe, watching his every move. Before the teacher slid the door behind him, he glanced back one last time. Dokja was looking straight at him with an emotion he could not uncover in his eyes.
Apparently, he had just gotten in trouble for punching a student, which was understandable if the other boy hadn’t started it first. After that day, the boy had tattled to his parents, who then contacted the school. They told them he would get off with a warning this time, and would contact his parents about his behavior. He didn’t care though. It’s not like his parents would even answer the phone.
The meeting took longer than he expected as the teacher had mindlessly blabbed on and on about his ‘behavior’ and how as a ‘role model student he should act accordingly’. He simply just droned it out, staring off into space like how Dokja always would.
The teacher suddenly stopped talking when the bell rang after their long ‘talk’, meaning the end of class and the beginning of lunch. The teacher, not wanting to miss his lunch break, decided it was a good time to end their little discussion and dismiss him from his office.
As he walked back, he began to hear a commotion coming from his classroom. He quickened his pace, and slammed open the door. Dokja was on the floor, being circled by half of the class like a pack ready to hunt. In their hands, they held books with his mothers name plastered on the front.
“Your moms fucking crazy.” They snickered. One threw the book straight at his face and left a nasty red mark on his cheek. “You must be crazy just like her.” Another added just as ruthlessly.
The sight sent a familiar pang down his chest. Dokja was once more blocking his small body with his thin arms, curling up into a small ball to try and stay away from the attacks. It was almost like that night all over again. The people around were hurting him just like his father had.
Anger rushes through him, and he jumps towards the group of people. Without a care for anyone else, he pushes through the crowd with lighting speed to the center. Just like always, Dokja had lost the will to fight, and took the attacks like it was normal.
Technically, it was ‘normal’ to him.
The class as a whole stepped away, knowing that their time was now up. They don’t leave the classroom and instead back away, watching him carefully as Joonghyuk leans Dokja against one of the desks.
Joonghyuk was never one for words. He spoke with his actions. So, with ease he grabbed a nearby desk, and chucked it straight at one of the main boys that always went out of his way to make Dokja’s life a living hell. The same one that cornered him in the bathroom, the same one who tattled on him with his parents, making him leave the room, and this situation unfolding. The contents of the desk go flying out, hitting people who were unlucky enough to be standing in its line of direction.
Screams echo through the halls, the girls terrified of the outburst, and the boy who had been hit screaming out in pain. He didn’t dodge, he couldn’t with the speed it was thrown at him. He groans out in pain, the metal legs of the table digging straight into his stomach. The boys around him don’t bother to help him, and instead back away into the corner to try and stay away. The girls began to escape through the door, most likely to go find a teacher and report the incident.
Joonghyuk wanted to scream, to break, to destroy. His fists were balled, ready to punch whoever got in his way. He kicked the book as far away as possible, silently praying that Dokja would never read a single page in that novel. He wished to squash every single kid in the entire school for their ignorance. They didn’t know a single thing. All they wanted was to feel better about themselves by ruining another's.
Joonghyuk wished it would stop. It never would.
“I’m staying at school today.” Dokja mutters as Joonghyuk stood up from his seat.
Joonghyuk’s eyes widened in surprise. They had been living in the same time loop for what felt like months. They hadn’t actually, but Dokja was glued to the same schedule that it basically was one at that point.
“I’ll stay after school with you.” He decided, plopping back down into his seat, and taking out his console. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway, and he would have much rather spent his time with Dokja than anyone else. Even himself.
“No no no.” He shakes his head, hair flying all over in choppy chunks. “Go home. I have… I have something to do.”
Dokja was never this vocal about anything. It was always Joonghyuk saying something, and Dokja blindlessly followed him. One half of him liked it. It was nice to know that he would always be there when he told him to. At the same time, it worried him. Knowing that Dokja was like kelp in the ocean, allowing the ocean’s waves to take him wherever it wanted to, even to the deepest parts of the ocean where the most dangerous creatures lived.
“I’m staying.” Joonghyuk announced it again. He stayed seated, eyes focused on his console after playing the same game for the millionth time. He had actually finished every single game he owned, but was too lazy to go and buy new ones. So, he continued to play the same boring game over and over.
Dokja’s hand on his shoulder makes him jump. He hadn’t expected Dokja to be the one to initiate contact. All of this was so out of character for him, to the point where dread began to fill his stomach.
“Please…” He begged. ”Go”
Joonghyuk looked up from his game boy, and the sight in front of him froze him to his core.
Dokja stared straight at him, eyes wide with desperation.Joonghyuk didn’t know how to react. Why did he so desperately want him gone?
He knew he should have stayed. He knew he should have stayed by his side, but somewhere inside of him told him he would have to go. Like it or not, his body forced itself to get up from his seat, grab his backpack, and leave the classroom.
Dokja sat in the back corner of the classroom. Alone.
Joonghyuk knew something was off, so he never actually left the school grounds.
Nobody else was in school. Everyone out doing their respective clubs, going to karaoke with friends, finishing homework, having dinner with their family. Everything but being in school. Surprisingly, no teachers were there to kick them out when the clock struck six o'clock.
He leaned against the wall next to the door, making sure to keep the door a smidge open so he could hear everything that was happening inside. For the next few hours he would sit there, listening to his every movement. He didn’t open his console, afraid that the sounds of the buttons clicking would alarm him of his presence. It gave him some time to think. Normally, he would always make sure his mind and hands were busy with something. Some may say he was a workaholic, but it was more like he was scared to be left alone with his own thoughts.
He knew the end would be the same. He couldn’t change anything no matter how hard he tried. He should have just left him alone. Watched from a distance and let the time pass by until it was over. But he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to the boy, he couldn’t let go of him. He had seen too much, and gotten attached, making this way more difficult than it had to be.
Dokja didn’t move from his seat. For the next three hours he wouldn’t hear a single movement or sound in the room. After waiting there for so long, Joonghyuk was ready to go home, tired of looking at the same wall for so long. Suddenly, sounds of Dokja’s chair leg squeaking against the ground as he stood up echoed through the silent walls of school.
Joonghyuk scooted closer to the crack in the door, and carefully peeks his head through.
Dokja stood next to the window, and with a silent click, he slid the glass pane open allowing the cool breeze to blow past his face. He takes a deep sigh, looking out at the setting sun. He swears he could see his hands shake, his thin shoulder’s swaying back and forth. It looked like if the breeze had decided to blow a little stronger, it could have easily toppled Dokja, but he held onto the window sill with a shaky hand.
Dokja turns around and Joonghyuk jumps back, afraid the boy would notice him peeking. Thankfully, he was too lost in his own world to even notice that he was there. He hadn’t noticed when his back was facing towards him, but the shaking of his shoulders was from the tears that were now dripping down his face. He had been holding it all in for so long, the tears couldn’t stay back for any longer. It dripped down his chin, splating against the hard cold floor.
He grabbed a nearby chair, and placed it against the window sill against the wall. With shaky legs, he climbed, legs wobbling under him. He held onto the window frame to keep his balance.
He stood there for a while.
Dokja looked almost angelic in the light. The sun had started to set, creating a glowing orange hue throughout the classroom. His hair glistened in the glow, creating almost an aura around his body.
He lifted one of his legs and placed it onto the windowsill.
Joonghyuk’s heart dropped.
With wobbly legs like a newborn kitten, both legs were now balancing on the thin windowsill.
He wanted to scream, shout, anything. Anything to make it stop. He wanted to reach out, to grab onto his hand and carefully bring him back to safety. His body wouldn’t let him.
Dokja’s grip on the window frame was so tight to the point where his fists were turning white. He slowly lowered his head and looked down.
He was on the fifth floor.
He takes a deep breath, and with too much calmness for a fifteen year old, he leans forward and falls. He had jumped.
All he could do was watch with wide eyes full of fear for his dear companion.
His hair flew up with the wind, arms wide like a free bird. But he didn’t fly.
He kicks open the sliding door, not caring how the door cracks with the amount of force. He rushes towards the window sill, heart beating a mile a second.
He couldn’t… He couldn’t be…
He pushes aside all the tables in his way, not caring if he was knocking over everything in his path. He just needed to get there. His hand reaches the window sill, and it takes him a second for him to get the courage to look down.
Slowly, he peers down. The moment he sees him, his eyes are blown wide.
Why didn’t you move earlier? Why did you let it happen?
What must have been a teacher’s scream echoes through the campus.
The last thing he remembered hearing was the sound of the ambulance.
Joonghyuk sat next to Dokja’s lifeless figure.
Seeing him connected to so many different tubes and needles in his arms sent a shiver down his spine. His hair was unkempt, black eye bags that never seemed to disappear, his cheeks sunken in.
He looked like a corpse.
He had done nothing to stop it. His body didn’t move, and now he was paying the consequences. Joonghyuk skipped school. There was no point when his favorite companion was not there. In this fake world, nothing mattered.
He never let go of his hand, no matter how many times the doctor told him that he was alive and breathing. Breathing and living were two different things. He watched how his stomach went up and down in shallow breaths. His mouth was covered with an oxygen mask, meaning he couldn’t even tell who the person was without lifting up his unruly bangs.
The doctor had told him multiple times to leave, stop skipping school, go live his life like a normal kid should. He didn’t bother, and soon grew used to tuning out the doctor’s wishes. He would stay by his side. No matter what.
“I can’t believe I’m wasting the money I got from his mother on stupid medical bills.” He could hear his uncle mutter through the door.
If Dokja’s father wasn't the most disgusting man ever born on this earth, Dokja’s uncle was a close second. His mother had published the book for him. To cover up the fact that Dokja was the one with the knife, as well as a way to make money for her son even if she was no longer with him. All the profits from the book were sent straight to him, but his uncle had interfered and taken the money for himself. Meaning, Dokja didn’t get a single drop.
Joonghyuk felt a small droplet of water run down his cheek.
Was he crying?
Kim Dokja. His companion, his best friend, his lover. He loved him so dearly, and wished he could have protected him from the world. He felt like his heart was being ripped away from his soul so violently that he couldn't even process the grief and pain he was feeling. He wanted his world to be covered in flower fields with the kids he cared for, he wanted to be the person by his side, supporting him and experiencing the world's wonders together.
He had never realized how cruel real life could be.
Is this really how you lived, Dokja?
[Congratulations! You have completed the Hidden Senario - What’s Set in Stone.]
“Joonghyuk-ah? Joonghyuk-ah?” A familiar voice woke him from his slumber. Wearily, he opened his eyes to see a blurred blob of black hair and a white coat.
There was a bright luminescent light shining over him and making it difficult to see. He could feel the cold hard ground under his back, his back aching with pain from being in the same position for what he guessed was a long time. He pushed himself up with his arms and glanced over to Dokja. The other man sat crossed legged across from him, nervous hands fidgeting with each other.
Neither of them knew what to say. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, nor where they were. It didn’t matter though. He just wanted Dokja near him.
Catching both Dokja and himself by surprise, he grabs Dokja by the coat, and brings him into a warm embrace. The position was really uncomfortable since they were both on the floor, but Joonghyuk ignored it, instead just glad that his lover was back in his arms. It catches Dokja by surprise, and at first he awkwardly tries to maneuver his hands, but he quickly soon relaxes knowing how worried Joonghyuk had been.
“I’m sorry you had to… go through all that…” Dokja whispers into his shoulder, muffled by his coat.
Why was he apologizing? He never chose that. No soul would ever choose to live through such tragic events. That fact that he was even there was a miracle. His entire life had been pushed down by the world itself. But to his amazement he was able to make a way for himself even with the words pressure on his back. It wasn’t easy, but he was here.
“There’s no need to apologize.” Joonghyuk’s voice echoed through the empty room.
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Was left unsaid, but Dokja knew it was there.
Joonghyuk wraps his arms around Dokja’s body, keeping him in a warm embrace. He was afraid. Afraid that if he let go he would never see him again. He held onto him tighter and tighter, until the point where Dokja couldn’t breath from his rib cage being crushed by him. He desperately taps his back, telling him he was slowly suffocating in his hold.
Joonghyuk hadn't even noticed he was doing it, and quickly let go.
“Did you at least get a reward?” Dokja nervously scratched his head, avoiding all eye contact with him.
Joonghyuk didn’t get any reward. The thought hadn’t even passed his mind, but he didn’t need one when he already had it right in front of him.
“No.” He answered.
Joonghyuk grabs onto Dokja’s chin, catching him by surprise once again. His mouth drops open, no words leaving his mouth. That was okay though, Joonghyuk would fill the silence.
“My biggest reward is being here with you.” He mumbles, before pulling him closer.
With such gentleness, he kisses him on the lips.
From now on, let's face the world together.