Chapter Text
Kim Dokja never knew his true self, he never knew if he was actually himself. From the times where he died, feeling as if he’s in a different body, mind. As he died over and over, he lost himself in the countless bodies behind him. Shedding a new body for the sake of his friends.
There’s the concept of nothing after death, like how there’s no memory of before being born. When Kim Dokja dies, perhaps a new person takes his place. His body never did feel right, although the others may not know it, when he revived it felt as if he restarted. He couldn’t walk as well, he couldn’t control his fingers, his reaction time isn’t as fast. The others don’t know this flaw of his because the Fourth Wall makes up what he lacks.
In this sense, perhaps the Fourth Wall is just transferring information to each body’s subconscious, therefore creating a new Kim Dokja.
Every person in this world doesn’t remember how much they’ve forgotten, be it from baby to a child, to teen, to adult, to being middle aged. To their fall. There’s no records of it, there’s no proof of what they’ve forgotten, there’s no memory of what they’ve lost. So, maybe Kim Dokja doesn’t know that he’s just a new person who inherited the original’s. After all, he has no memory.
Maybe the records of it are in the Fourth Wall. Maybe it’s somewhere in that big library in his head. The librarians probably know, living their life just organizing.
This fear would eat away at him, it made him crumble, it made him lose himself. Every time he bled, he scrambled to stop it, he didn’t want to lose any more than he already probably has.
Kneeled over somewhere away from his companions, he would panic, as blood poured out of wounds he had, he would wish to himself, a prayer even, that he doesn’t lose sight of himself. All this would swallow him up before he died permanently, before the end of the scenarios. He had to keep it together, but just seeing those faint fragments of stories that make up Kim Dokja, flowing out of his body, Kim Dokja can’t help but panic. It scares him, to eventually forget himself, it scares the life out of him. He could face death, for his companions, but he wishes that he wouldn’t lose himself in the process.
So kneeled over, hand on a wall, he vomits from fear, except that nothing comes out except bile. He hasn’t eaten anything because of his fear, if his companions make him eat, force feeding him, he smiles and takes it, vomiting it out later.
Eating is very painful for him, it makes him doubt his body and mind. These aren’t your companions feeding you, they are Kim Dokja’s companions, not yours, you are just a replacement. You are not Kim Dokja, You're an imitation, a copy, a marionette.
This makes him vomit, he’s sorry, he doesn’t want to vomit, he doesn’t want them to worry, he wants him to be helped, but he can’t help but vomit. It sickens him, the thought that he may not be his own self, a fake feeding himself. He doesn’t belong there.
Maybe it’s easier to put it this way, a father at a dinner table with his family, except he is not the father, he is a fake, he killed the previous father. He eats with his “family” chatting over simple topics, but he feels guilty. He didn’t mean to kill the father, but he also doesn’t have the guts to tell the father’s family. So he acts in his place, and eating food at a table where the family loves the “father”, he feels sick to the stomach with guilt.
It’s guilt, and it always has been guilt. It’s also fear, fear of being caught, fear of being exposed as not himself if he doesn’t act like the Kim Dokja his companions know. That’s why he has to keep everything, not lose anything. He needs to keep it together, like the Kim Dokja they know.
In the end, he doesn’t have to keep it together. He loses himself even more, fear and guilt overtaking him on that cold train that travels for eternity.
He has no one that has expectations of him, all he has to do is read stories. But at this point, he doesn’t know his true self, 51 percent, 49 percent, since he’s the 51 percent, he must be the original Kim Dokja, well not original, but from when they split off. He must be the actual fake Kim Dokja. But as he watches over his friends, a decision he made a long time ago, he doesn’t know if he is the actual fake. He’s perhaps just the fake, his friend’s can’t tell if the Kim Dokja with them has over 50 percent of his memories missing.
They don’t know.
Over half of himself is missing, and they don’t know.
Something shatters within him.
They don’t know.
That’s all they’ve ever needed, 49 percent. That is the true Kim Dokja, not the one with fear and guilt of knowing (it’s just a guess but it’s torn him up). The true Kim Dokja is the one they know.
It cracks.
He’s just the waste.
It snaps.
But at least he didn’t make them worry.
It fractures.
At least they’re happy with him.
And it finally bursts out, tears drip down from his eyes.
They’re happy, they don’t have to worry, because he’s not there, there's no reason to cry, not like this, not while being painfully aware of the hot salty tears dripping down his cheeks, they’re happy, this is what he’s worked towards, so why?
Why is he crying?
He doesn’t have to feel guilty, and his fear is lessened, he should feel relieved. A heavy weight finally off his shoulders.
At the very end, he lets go of this fear, this guilt, and lets himself deteriorate, let him lose himself. It’s the most peace he’s felt since his first death, although he does wish to hold onto himself, fear doesn’t take over him, and it’s bliss. Nothing could ever give him a better sense of self satisfaction, peace, happiness, than now.
(Start from his first death and start writing a long series where he slowly loses himself based on what I wrote here. Each death should make him more scared and guilty, show how his mind deteriorates, physically as well, including the vomiting, the tears, but no comfort. His companions worry but they can’t provide him comfort. From the first death, he just feels a little weird, like wearing a latex suit, like his skin isn’t his. When they worry about him, he tells him he’s fine but mentions casually it just feels a little weird.)