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It’s been a long time since Kim Dokja was brought back to the Industrial Complex. Too long, in fact. So long, that Han Sooyoung is starting to get worried that he might never wake up.
She doesn’t voice these concerns, however much she wants to.
Someone suddenly enters the empty room, startling her. She turns towards the door, frowning when she sees it’s Yoo Joonghyuk.
“So that’s it, then?” he asks ominously, bending over and breathing hard as if he sprinted here.
“What?”
“You’re tls123? You wrote it?” He pauses, watching Han Sooyoung’s expression shift. “You… created me?”
So you could save him?
Han Sooyoung sits up from where she was laying on the floor, and nods.
Yoo Joonghyuk balls his hands into fists, then unfurls them. “...Okay.”
He turns to leave, his eyes lost and puzzled, but Han Sooyoung stops him.
“Did you just come here to confirm that, even after I explained it to you multiple times? Asshole. Tell me why you’re actually here,” she pushes, skeptical.
“I don’t know!” Yoo Joonghyuk answers automatically. Then, he throws his hands up in the air and goes to sit next to Han Sooyoung. “I don’t… know.”
“Pathetic.”
They sit in silence for quite a while after that. Han Sooyoung chews on her lip. Yoo Joonghyuk keeps mindlessly reaching down to where his sword would be if he still kept it on him.
Finally, Han Sooyoung opens her mouth. “How long did you spend in space, again?”
“I already said: it was an immeasurable length of time.”
“You were receiving all my updates through the cloud system, weren’t you?”
“Correct.”
“Did you read all of it?”
“I did,” Yoo Joonghyuk answers after a moment of hesitation.
“What did you think of my writing?”
“It was fine.”
“Just ‘fine’?” Han Sooyoung teases. “Hm, I expected more criticism than that from someone like you.”
She continues to ask more questions, but Yoo Joonghyuk gradually stops replying. He turns to look at the person sitting next to him, studying her facial features. He notices the bags under her eyes instantly, and the way her bangs seem messier than they typically are.
“You’re missing him,” Han Sooyoung blurts, just as Yoo Joonghyuk was about to say something similar.
He feels there’s no use deflecting it anymore. “Yes.”
“Me too.”
To both of their surprise, Han Sooyoung wraps the man sitting next to her in a hug, except it doesn’t work out to well, considering their insane height difference, even if they’re sitting.
It feels awkward. But also strangely comforting…?
When they pull away, their hands linger on each other’s sleeves, so they just continue to clutch the fabric. Han Sooyoung leans back on Yoo Joonghyuk, laying her head on his shoulder, sighing dramatically.
Yoo Joonghyuk scowls and attempts to push her off of him, but she buries her face in deeper, so he gives up. Han Sooyoung closes her eyes together tightly. She feels a lump in her throat, but she ignores it.
“Baat,” a voice calls, breaking the silence. Biyoo, in her human form, stands in front of the two. An amused expression is on her face. “What’s up?”
Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk instantly separate, shooting daggers at each other with their gazes.
Biyoo comes to sit down on the floor next to them, adjusting her coat.
“Still not used to you looking like this,” Han Sooyoung jokes, trying to change the subject.
“Neither am I.”
“Hey, you were there with him, too, right?” she asks, pointing at Yoo Joonghyuk. “How did you survive with him in space for so long, with him being like that and all?”
“What are you saying,” Yoo Joonghyuk questions.
“You were so depressed when you got back. You must’ve been insufferable.”
“What--”
“I really don’t know. He was acting like a lovesick schoolgirl, having existential crises and everything. Even the Plotter had to come and sort him out.” Biyoo laughs.
“Even the Plotter? That’s how bad it was?” Han Sooyoung smirks, poking the man next to her.
“Shut up.”
Han Sooyoung and Biyoo grin, and continue to pester Yoo Joonghyuk, who eventually threatens to launch himself back into outer space if they don’t stop.
“You know,” Biyoo says, eyes softening. “He’s going to wake up at some point.”
The lump in Han Sooyoung’s throat is back. She almost chokes on it while letting out a slow and shaky breath. “How do you know for sure?” she whispers, but it comes out in a squeaky voice.
“I don’t,” Biyoo answers honestly. “But… I can sense it. I just have a feeling.”
Maybe, Han Sooyoung muses. That feeling is hope.
A hope that things are going to turn out alright. A hope that, even when the world falls apart, they will still survive. A hope that, one day, Han Sooyoung, Yoo Joonghyuk, and the rest of their companions can wrap their arms around their beloved reader once again.