Chapter Text
Yoo Joonghyuk stared down at the chocolate cake. A small chocolate squid with gold sprinkles for eyes seemed to wink accusingly at him.
“Oppa,” Yoo Mia sat to his right, a plate and fork in front of her, “Make a wish before the candle melts to the cake.”
His other companions were seated around the table, trying to put up a merry act for his birthday.
Yoo Joonghyuk closed his eyes, thinking of something he wanted.
Instead, a familiar figure in a white coat donning a blurry face whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
”We can do this next year too.”
“Do what?”
“A birthday celebration of course. With flowers”
Yoo Joonghyuk opened his eyes, attempting to vanquish the memory.
‘Kim Dokja.’
He blew out the candles.
‘Will I get flowers this year too?’
Later, when everyone had a slice of cake and had scattered about the large yet empty house, the small talk more insufferable than silence, Yoo Joonghyuk returned back to his bedroom. There was no reason to remain in the living room when his presence wasn’t wanted.
And it wasn’t because of him that he was unwanted.
Perhaps, at some point, when they had begun healing after Kim Dokja’s disappearance, a common idea had been established.
That seeing each other simply reminded them of what they had lost and therefore, pretending not to notice each other became a norm.
Even Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung had broken up, reverting to the surface level alliance they had during the very first of scenarios.
Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, whom were once inseparable despite having a rival-like relationship, seemed to have slipped apart. Being in the same high school class was not a common ground for them.
Only Han Sooyoung attempted to hold on a little longer. She held gatherings often, the first year after Kim Dokja’s disappearance. But when the atmosphere in her sky rise penthouse grew unbearably awkward, she stopped that too.
It was only now, four years later, at Yoo Mia’s insistence that they held a birthday party for Yoo Joonghyuk.
“What flavor cake do you want?” She had asked, a cheerful smile on her face that contrasted to downcast look in her eyes.
He didn’t know.
“Is there a particular flavor you like? We’ve already tried strawberry,” Kim Dokja ticked his fingers as he spoke, “tiramisu, and chocolate.”
“I think tiramisu’s nice. It’s a classic.” Yoo Joonghyuk laughed lightly after saying that, wiping a bit of cocoa powder off his companion’s lips.
So he had told her he didn’t like anything in particular.
A certain companion already dominated every inch of his mind. There was no need to get a cake that would only remind him more of what he lost.
Lifting the heavy blankets, Yoo Joonghyuk slipped under the dark covers. Sometimes, he wondered if Kim Dokja was right and he really was a black cat.
“Why would I be a cat?”
“You mope around and act all nonchalant. What would you be if not a black cat?”
But didn’t cats tend to sleep more as they neared their deaths?
The pocketwatch Kim Dokja had given to him on the first birthday they celebrated together ticked forebodingly on his desk, next to the bedroom window.
“Kim Dokja?”
His hand curled into a fist below the bed sheets.
At some point, it had become a habit. To say his name as if asking a question.
He’d fall to his knees and beg if it meant he’d receive an answer.
“Yoo Joonghyuk?”
Yoo Joonghyuk closed his eyes, slipping back into a familiar dream.
“Where are we?” Kim Dokja smile at him curiously, a hand hooked on Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm as if they were lovers. His silky black hair swayed gently in the summer breeze.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers itched to run them through those locks.
Looking away, he said softly, “The Hanging Gardens of Babylon.”
“Oh—I didn’t know they allowed incarnations in.”
Well, they didnt. Yoo Joonghyuk had been granted a personal scenario where the reward was unlimited access to these exclusive gardens. Yoo Joonghyuk led the shorter man through the field of dandelions. Another expanse had tulips of all colors and roses could be seen on the other side.
Kim Dokja let go of his arm gently, running through the field of flowers. Yoo Joonghyuk stayed behind, keeping a bit of distance between them so his companion could have much needed alone time.
He liked it. Liked seeing the bright, genuine smile on Kim Dokja’s face as he floundered around, picking the flowers he found lovely.
Yoo Joonghyuk thought that was lovely too, and he didn’t mean the flowers.
“Joonghyuk-ah!” Kim Dokja waved at him to come over. He obliged, the short dandelions and tulips tickling his ankles where his pants lifted slightly as he walked.
When he reached his reader, leaning down slightly to smile, Kim Dokja thrusted a makeshift bouquet at him. Deep red tulips waved at him cheerily. With a little hesitation, Yoo Joonghyuk accepted it.
“Do you know the language of flowers?”
Unable to keep it in, Yoo Joonghyuk let out a crack of a smile before he raised the flowers to cover his wide smile. “Yes, I do.”
“That sounds like a marriage vow,” Kim Dokja said with a light giggle.
“Are you proposing?”
Kim Dokja hummed, closing his eyes as if considering. “I’m not sure, Yoo Joonghyuk. I don’t think I’ll be able to move onto the next dangerous scenario if I have a lovely spouse waiting for me to return home.”
“Then don’t,” Yoo Joonghyuk meant that in all seriousness, “Don’t go to the next scenario. We can stay here. Far away from the end.”
His companion raised a hand, caressing the regressor’s cheek tenderly.
“We can’t.” His tone was apologetic, regret lacing his eyes.
“We can.” ‘Please’ was the word he didn’t verbalize. His voice breaking was indication enough of his willingness to beg if it mean they could remain safely together.
“The world needs us.”
And that made Yoo Joonghyuk so, so bitter.
“I need you.” His voice was nearly inaudible, but he knew Kim Dokja heard him.
When Kim Dokja stepped forward, leaning forward for their forehead could touch—even more intimate than a kiss might’ve been—they both closed their eyes, tears blooming like the first flowers of spring.
‘I know.’
It was still dark when he awoke.
He sat up after a moment, rubbing his face with a hand. The black shirt he wore stuck to his chest from sweat and he was uncomfortably warm. Whether it was from the AC he didn’t turn low enough or the recurring dreams of his companion, he didn’t know.
Oh, what he would give to go back to those times.
He didn’t know how long he spent sleeping. He tapped roughly on the screen of his phone. 11:51pm, it read. He hadn’t even slept till the next day.
The silence outside indicated that everyone had left. Yoo Mia’s icon in their shared location app showed she had safely headed back to her school dorms. Ruffling his hair in irritation, he stumbled out of the bedroom.
On the kitchen counter, an intricate bouquet, clearly made with attention and detail, sat like gold ingots. Yoo Joonghyuk bit his lip, gently raising the bouquet to his lips and kissing the red petals.
This marked the fourth gift he had received for his birthday.
One bouquet for every birthday.
The first had been yellow chrysanthemums, a sign of longlasting friendship.
The second had been blue hydrangeas, meaning apologies and forgiveness.
The third had been purple hyacinths, often used to represent regret.
Yoo Joonghyuk brought the bouquet to eye level.
Despite not knowing who prepared these flowers, he knew it was because of Kim Dokja.
This year, he had received red tulips. Like the first time his companion had ever given him flowers.
In a world without his companion, his sanity and will to survive slowly draining away, these consistent acts of affection from his companion kept him tethered.
“Kim Dokja?”
“You’ll give me flowers on my next birthday too?”
“As many as you want.”
“I think…even if we don’t see the end of this world together, I’m sure we’re together in another universe.”
“In another universe?”
Yoo Joonghyuk rested his head on his lover’s shoulder. “I’d like to think we’re happy in another lifetime.” He felt a gentle kiss on his head.
“You’ll have to wait for me,” Kim Dokja laughed lightly, sweetly. “You’ll find me again, won’t you? Maybe not on a burning bridge, but perhaps a field of dandelions?”
In the setting sun with flowers surrounding them, Yoo Joonghyuk felt wholly at peace.
“Yes,” he repeated, “A field of dandelions. And next time,” the scent from those tulips calmed his beating heart, “I’ll give you red tulips.”
A symbol of unwavering and everlasting love.