Work Text:
“Sooyoung-ah, can you come over here for a sec?”
Han Sooyoung groans and groggily lifts herself up from the hospital bed. “Yeah, comin’.”
As she adjusts the position of the IV in her arm, the book that was next to her falls to the floor. She bends down to pick it up, gently placing it back on the bed. She cautiously walks to the other side of the room, brushing her bangs back, and raising an eyebrow curiously.
Kim Dokja sits at a desk, his laptop in front of him. To his left is a plate of half-eaten dumplings, while to the right, is a singular, eerily sharp pencil.
He turns around upon hearing Han Sooyoung’s footsteps. There’s bags under his eyes, his hair sticks to his forehead, and his jacket is disheveled.
Before he can say anything, she points out, “You look like shit.”
Kim Dokja grins. “I know. Nevermind that. Can you look at this?”
He angles the computer towards her, and Han Sooyoung leans over, almost tripping on her hospital gown. She scans a few paragraphs and then scowls. “This is all wrong.”
“What parts of it?”
“All of it. Look, right here. I don’t ever remember you replying to a comment I left on Ways of Survival with that?” She jabs her finger at the screen.
“Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember typing that--”
“Your memory is absolutely horrible--”
“I could say the same thing about you!”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters… using your avatar skill like that, becoming the Oldest Dream? What were you even thinking?”
They both abruptly fall silent after his outburst.
[Exclusive skill, ‘The Fourth Wall’, is shaking!]
Kim Dokja’s eyes widen. “Oh. I shouldn’t--it’s too early to talk about that, I think. Sorry.”
Han Sooyoung hesitates. “Yeah,” she replies, bluntly.
[Exclusive skill, ‘The Fourth Wall’, has been activated!]
[Y ou sh ould nt ha ve l eft the m I tol d yo u yo u wou ld re gret it]
[I to ld the m to be con te nt wit h 49% Han Soo you ng but th ey were nt]
Kim Dokja seems defeated. His eyebrows scrunch together, and he looks down, as if contemplating something. After a few seconds, he gets up from his chair. He looks at Han Sooyoung and then takes her hand in his.
Han Sooyoung grits her teeth and ignores the wall’s messages, which only she can hear. Upon learning who resides in the wall, she never replies to it anymore. For the most part, she has a love-hate relationship with it. Sometimes, she wishes it could just disappear; other times, she longs for its company.
All of a sudden, she gets a flashback to that day where she sat on the windowsill, her legs dangling over the edge. She had closed her eyes, listening to the breeze and the birds chirping outside. She held a novel in her arms, which she then placed back on one of the empty desks.
The classroom was empty.
She was empty.
She stepped forwards.
She fell.
Han Sooyoung aggressively pushes the thoughts out of her mind and chooses to focus on Kim Dokja instead. A concerned expression is on his face, along with a faint, worried smile. She looks at their hands, and sees graphite marks from the pencil on Kim Dokja’s trembling fingers. She pulls away for a second, and the marks have transferred to her hand, as well.
“I want to die,” Han Sooyoung blurts suddenly. She feels a tear drip down her face, and she looks down in embarrassment.
[Do nt go say ing thi ngs lik e th at]
Kim Dokja looks alarmed. He grips her arm. “Don’t sacrifice yourself again, please,” he whispers, jokingly.
“...”
“I want to die a lot of times, too. Writing this thing isn’t easy, you know. But, hey, we gotta keep reading the story, right?” He smiles before continuing. “And I love you. We all love you.”
Han Sooyoung pauses, letting the words sink in. “Idiot,” she finally says, blushing.
Kim Dokja puts his thumb below her chin and lifts it up, wiping the tears off with his other fingers. He pauses for a second, then opens his mouth again. “Hey, is that wall still bothering you?”
[B o ther ing? Wh o do es he thi nk he is?]
“No,” Han Sooyoung lies, without a second thought.
She’s gotten too used to lying.
“Okay. Don’t cry, okay?” Kim Dokja urges, placing one of the cold dumplings into her hand.
Han Sooyoung looks down at the dumpling and almost laughs. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
Kim Dokja shrugs.
She takes a bite out of it. “Thank you.”
Maybe, someday, Han Sooyoung will tell Kim Dokja that the wall is still there.
Maybe, someday, she will stop sacrificing herself for other people.
Maybe, someday, she will wake up, and grin like Kim Dokja does.
Maybe, someday, she will finally learn that others love her, and that she is worthy of love.
But, for now, as her favorite writer says, she just needs to keep reading the story.