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Yoosoung stared, sneakers rooted to the sidewalk. Beside her, Gilyoung muttered impatiently, wondering why she had suddenly gone quiet.
Across the street was a man. He was an ordinary man, maybe in his early thirties. He was sweeping the floor outside a quaint building, the sign above him revealing that it was both a bookshop and a cafe.
He turned his head up, gaze locking with hers. Beside her, Gilyoung froze. Plain, black eyes stared back. They seemed to hold constellations in them, eternity forever locked in a sea of obsidian. Slowly, the man raised a hand and gave them a careful wave.
Yoosoung took this as permission to approach him, her guardians told her not to approach strangers, but something in her heart told her this man was far from a stranger to her.
“Hello Ahjussi” she muttered to him, beside her, Gilyoung held her hand protectively “do we know you?”.
She was blunt, not mincing her words. It was something she had learned from someone, but she couldn’t recall who.
The familiar man blinked. “I don’t know if I know you” he answered earnestly “But it feels like I should”.
For some inexplicable reason, Yoosoung felt tears well up in her eyes. She rubbed at them with the sleeve of her cardigan, mildly embarrassed for irrationally crying.
The man looked panicked at her sudden tears, raising his hands in a placating motion “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you!”.
She shook her head quickly “I’m not sad” she sobbed “This just feels so important and I don’t know why”. It felt like a hole in her heart was being filled, like she had found a missing piece to a puzzle she didn’t know was incomplete, like the world was a little brighter, made a little more sense, because this man was here.
The man gave a relieved sigh, a soft smile now gracing his features. He reached up a hand and ruffled her hair fondly, like it was second nature. “It’s okay Yoosoung-ah” he said “I know what you mean”.
The girl froze, shoulders tensing up “…what did you just call me?” She asked in a hushed whisper. The man frowned, tilting his head in a confused gesture “Shin Yoosoung? Isn’t that your name?”.
“It is” she replied, voice shaking “But I never told you my name Ahjussi”.
It should have been concerning, it should have been suspicious, but all she could feel was warmth . There was relief and affection crawling up her throat because this man knew who she was, because he knew her name without her needing to say it.
The man’s eyes widened “You didn’t tell me your name?” He asked dumbly, pursing his lips when she shook her head. “Then how did I…” he trailed off in a mutter. His eyebrows were furrowed, a million thoughts racing behind dark eyes, it was such a familiar expression.
He turned his gaze to the other teen, frowning slightly. “I know you as well,” he stated. “And you know me”.
Gilyoung, who had been oddly silent till now, nodded. “I do,” he agreed. “I know you, Dokja hyung."
Dokja.
Dokja.
Kim Dokja.
She didn’t even notice she said it aloud till the man stared at her, eyes wide “You know my name too?” He gaped.
She didn’t know how to answer him, but she tried anyway. She had barely opened her mouth to respond when Gilyoung beat her to it, excitedly moving closer to the man, to Dokja. “What about me? Do you know what my name is?” he asked, intrigued.
The man tilted his head “You’re… Gilyoung. Lee Gilyoung” he said decidedly.
She was seized with the sudden urge to hug him, even if she didn’t have memories of it, she knew she had hugged him before, and she wanted to do it again. But the stranger ( not a stranger, her heart insisted ) would probably be uncomfortable.
Gilyoung apparently had no such reservations, because he leaped forward and wrapped his arms around the man instantly. Dokja just laughed, patting his head softly, and Yoosoung took this as permission to latch onto his other side. It felt different to what she had expected, his waist wasn’t as thin as she thought it would be, she couldn’t feel his ribs through the hug. It inexplicably makes her smile.
It takes several minutes for the two to reluctantly pull away, and even then, they stand closer than before. Dokja seemed to notice the look in their eyes because he let out a soft laugh, gesturing towards the building beside them. “Why don’t you two come inside?” He said with a smile “Business is slow at this time, so it’s just me and my husband in the store”.
A bell jingled cheerfully as he pushed open the door, the teens following behind him without a second thought, almost like it was an instinct.
They were blasted with cool air as soon as they entered. The building was small, but cosy. The walls were lined with bookshelves, small nooks arranged with beanbags and couches littered the floor. There was a counter with an assortment of pastries advertised, a chalkboard listing prices of drinks. It felt quaint, homey, warm.
‘It suits him,’ some part of her whispered. She couldn’t help but agree.
A door opened from behind the counter, judging by the heavenly smell that floated into the room, it was a kitchen. A man walked out, he had an intimidating build and wore all black, but the image was ruined by the pink apron he was wearing, with matching oven mitts holding up a tray of pastries that seemed freshly baked.
“Sooty bastard!” Gilyoung yelled, pointing at the large man. Dokja clicked his tongue, ruffling the boy's hair aggressively “Gilyoung-ah, we don’t use that language”.
“Sorry Hyung” he muttered dejectedly, patting down the tousled mess.
“You found the kids” the man said, blinking down at them. Some part of Yoosoung wanted to object that they were teenagers, not kids, but the familiarity of the term in this man’s voice made her pause.
Dokja brightened “I did! They seemed familiar too, and they knew my name”.
“You knew ours too, Ahjussi” Yoosoung reminded him.
“I did,” he agreed. “Joonghyuk and I had the same thing when we first met, I think it’s possible that we knew each other during that apocalypse a few years ago”.
The apocalypse. The whole world knew about it, but no one could remember anything. Something about stars, something about hardships, something about death. There was a lot of death.
Yoosoung remembered life before the apocalypse somewhat. She had a dog, she remembered. She wondered what had happened to it. She remembered bits and pieces of an apocalypse, a giant dragon, a meteorite on an island, black, feathered wings. Someone’s laughter, high pitched and nasally - a girl, maybe a little older than her. Feelings of comfort, of guilt, and of grief.
She remembers the aftermath. She and Gilyoung had been with their guardians, instinctively knowing to stick together. They had managed to rent an apartment. One had gravitated towards the military, the other was a teacher of martial arts. It felt right, familiar. None of them could remember why.
Scientists claimed it was the human mind adapting to trauma, the reason that they couldn’t recall several years of their lives. Yoosoung couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing in that explanation.
Gilyoung stared in amazement at Dokja’s theory. “Maybe we were a team Hyung!” he exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement “I would definitely have worked hard to protect you!”.
“I bet I worked harder to protect Ahjussi” Yoosoung intervened, suddenly feeling a rush of jealousy.
Gilyoug turned to her with a glare “No, I definitely protected Hyung more than you!”.
“No, I did!” she protested, fists clenched.
Sudden pats to both their heads slid their argument to a screeching halt. Dokja looked down fondly at both of them, an amused smile on his face. “Well this feels familiar” the other man rumbled - Joonghyuk-ssi, Dokja had called him. The pastries were gone, his now bare hand came to wrap around Dokja’s waist. “I think we were all part of a team” he continued “Us and Mia, and some others”.
Dokja laughed, “Maybe we were a little family” he joked, but something about his words seemed to resonate with all of them.
A family. Like her and Gilyoung and Heewon-unnie and Hyunsung-oppa.
There were others like this, with half-baked memories of each other. With vague recollections of a life they shared together. They wanted to find more, needed to reunite their family.
Instead, the next person found them.
A woman walked into the cafe, looking around with a curious spark in her eyes. She brushed away short black hair to reveal a mole on her cheek.
She turned to the counter when her eyes suddenly opened as wide as saucers and she started to scream.
Yoosoung didn’t hear much before Joonghyuk-ssi came rushing out of the kitchen but she picked up some words like ‘ squid bastard’ and ‘ how dare you? ’ Before the larger man pried her away from his husband.
Dokja looked surprisingly unperturbed, eyes slightly wide as he took in the sight of this strange woman. “Do I know you?” he asked genuinely “Why are you yelling at me?”.
The woman blinked “I have no idea” she said honestly “I just saw your face and felt so much rage”.
Joonghyuk snorted “I felt the same when I saw him first”.
“You literally kissed me right after yelling at me idiot” Dokja snarked back “When we had just met. ”
Joonghyuk frowned. “We didn’t just meet” he protested “We knew each other long ago, we are companions in life and death, you and I”.
Dokja smiled softly “You always say that”.
“It feels right”.
“Eugh, gross, even your flirting feels familiar” the woman complained, still restrained by Joonghyuk’s grip on her shoulders “I just came here to get some writing done”.
Dokja’s eyes brightened “You’re a writer?” He asked excitedly.
The woman nodded, “And you’re a reader,” she replied. It wasn’t a question.
The woman’s name was Han Sooyoung. She started coming to the book cafe almost as often as Yoosoung and Gilyoung did.
It was common to see her seated near a window, staring intently at her laptop screen as the clacking of a keyboard filled the air. Today, it was joined by animated chatter, as Gilyoung tried in vain to convince her that the protagonist of her story would benefit from having a giant bug as a companion.
Yoosoung watched from one of the other tables, kicking her feet aimlessly as her homework lay untouched before her. A cup of steaming tea was placed in front of her, dragging her attention to the person who had approached.
Dokja settled into the seat that Gilyoung had abandoned, his own tea in hand. He smiled at her over the rim of his cup, and a memory flashed in her mind, of a smile so similar to this and yet so different.
‘His unlucky smile ’ her mind whispered. A sign of secrets and trickery and lies lies lies .
He did not have such an expression now, now his eyes held a spark of mirth, contentment tracing lines across his face. Now he looked at her fully, wholly, like his mind finally wasn’t wandering off somewhere she couldn't reach. He took in the sight of their little family with a fond gaze.
Of Sooyoung-ssi playfully ruffling Gilyoung’s hair. Of Joonghyuk-ssi meticulously arranging pastries in the displays. Something about the picture was incomplete.
Dokja seemed to think the same.
“There are more,” he said. Her guardians, a girl with a nasally and vibrant laugh.
“There are more,” she agreed. A woman with honey brown hair, a flash of bright red lipstick.
Dokja smiled, one that was unfamiliar, one that spoke of hope, of life, of fondness.”We’ll find them” he promised.
She believed him.