Chapter Text
Kim Dokja stared at the package of diapers in front of him. The price had gone up. Again. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut with a sigh. He'd have to rebudget his groceries. Again.
He began to re-sort through his grocery cart. Guess he could cut out the ground beef. The bean sprouts, too. He'd make do with the cabbage and just load up his personal meal prep with noodles. They were cheaper anyway, and fewer dishes. A win for everyone.
Dokja put the two items back in their sections and picked up some more of the noodles as he made his way back through the store to checkout.
He had miscalculated and was short some won. Suppressing another sigh, he slid a jar of sauce to the cashier, who wordlessly set it aside.
Dokja checked out and walked out of the store, bags in hand. He made his way to the subway station, sitting down on the train home. Phone in hand, he swiped through a couple of web novels before settling on an epic fantasy he'd been reading the night before. His earbud quietly played the newest Supreme single, There is Only This Chance.
The lead singer's voice growled into his ear as he read, and time passed.
Dokja rarely felt like he was in the moment when going about his new life this past year, his mind always spiraling towards an uncertain future for him and his daughter. These moments with his phone in hand and music in his ear on the train were always strangely grounding.
“--- The hand ticks, but I'm still fighting. Still, I'm breathing---”
Yoo Joonghyuk's voice thrummed with the bass of the music, and Dokja breathed.
The lead singer of Supreme had started as a pro streamer in fighting game tournaments as a high schooler, but had turned to a life of music after he played the first song he'd ever made on one of his streams. The clip had gone viral, and the band Supreme was soon born.
Dokja closed his eyes and simply listened.
“Chances don't come in pairs, but I can't stop the fight. My spirit is still in the stars upstairs.”
He hummed quietly to the bridge as the guitars sang. It was good. He liked their older albums more, but Supreme had a way of quieting his mind unlike anything else he'd ever listened to.
Dokja’s stop was next. He stood up and weaved in between the other passengers, stepping off the train with a few others as the doors opened. Back to the present moment with future worries, he left the solitude behind.
The walk to pick up his daughter was short. When Biyoo had first come into his life, he’d been lucky enough to find an apartment near a subway station that didn't have a bad commute to his new job as a Minosoft Quality Assistant. Moving hadn't been preferable, but the need to be close to a good daycare and school for when she was a little older had come before any other priorities for him.
He walked in the front gates of the daycare, nodding politely to the other parents who bothered to acknowledge him as he passed, which was very few. Dokja knew he should probably be more sociable with them. It might even ease the knot of loneliness inside him. But the eyes he could feel on him were… less than welcoming in most cases.
He knew there was speculation among the gossip exchanged between the other parents about his situation as a single father, but Dokja had shut down any polite questions directed at the topic when he'd first brought Biyoo to the daycare. Polite but firm, he had only said that Biyoo's mother wasn't in the picture anymore. And that had been that.
“Ba!” A small girl who had been holding the hand of one of the daycare workers tugged herself away from the woman and came running to Dokja. He smiled, and his shoulders lost any tension they had been holding.
“My little dokkaebi!” He set the grocery bags down next to him and knelt, catching Biyoo in his arms as she ran right into him. “Been up to any trouble?”
“Baba!” She pressed her face into his chest and threw her arms around his neck, laughing in delight as Dokja stood up with her in his arms. Her black pigtails were in total disarray, and leaves were clinging to her clothes.
The daycare worker came up to them, softly laughing. “Apologies, Mr. Kim. Biyoo went leaf hunting in the bushes again. I was about to clean her off before you got here.”
As if to prove the story, Biyu leaned back in his arms and held up a deep green leaf triumphantly. Her cheeks puffed out as she presented it to him with utmost care.
Dokja laughed and gently took the leaf, “That's alright, Mrs. Yi.”
He directed a soft, “Is this for me?” to Biyoo, who nodded vigorously, further letting strands of her pigtails fly.
“Thank you, dokkaebi. Let's fix that hair of yours real quick, right?” He set her down, remaining knelt there as she turned her back to Dokja expectantly. He untied her hair and gently combed his fingers through the thick locks. The major knots undone, he quickly pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.
“Bwah--” Biyoo turned and put her hands on her hips as she held her head up high, and then she stuck out a hand to take his. Dokja's smile grew wider, and he took her hand, his other grabbing the bags as he stood up.
He paused, however, as Mrs. Yi stood in front of them. She had a neutral expression, but her hands were fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. She glanced over to one of the other workers and said lightly, “We had leftovers from snack time. Would you take little Biyoo and help her choose something for their walk home? Apologies, Mr. Kim, I hope I can just take up a moment of your time?”
The second question was directed at Dokja, who slowly nodded, a little bit of dread creeping in as Biyoo happily walked over with the daycare worker to get a snack. When the two were out of earshot, Mrs. Yi stepped up a bit closer, quietly saying, “She still is not speaking properly, Mr. Kim. I am just concerned about her development. Have you considered seeking out a specialist?”
Dokja sighs, running a hand through his hair. This, yeah. He knew someone would say something soon. He didn't blame Mrs. Yi, at least she was a seemingly genuine person, but a specialist… Dokja began rebudgeting in his head. If he were a little stricter on his own meals, and maybe really went in on the couponing, he could scrounge up enough in a few weeks. He'd have to dig into savings, but Mrs. Yi was right.
“I will look into it. Do you have any recommendations for where to start?” Dokja listened as Mrs. Yi gave him a few numbers to call, and then she said, “You should spend time with her. Reading to her---”
He kept a patient expression. He specifically didn't interject that he read to her every night. Or that he sometimes spent hours just talking to her with the hope that it would help. But it hasn't worked. As vocal as Biyoo was, she had not yet started using proper sentences. He was at least relieved she understood him, and despite the difficulties, she was good at expressing herself.
“Baba!” His daughter came running back over, juicebox and crackers in one hand. She grabbed his hand and swung it back and forth as she hopped once. “Ready for home, Biyoo?”
She nodded, and he turned to Mrs. Yi, “Thank you for--- the help. I'll take her home now.”
She smiled and bid them goodbye as the two left out the front gates hand in hand. As they walked home, Dokja began to narrate.
“The afternoon sun was beginning to go down as the dokkaebi and her dad walked back to their castle in the city. Winter lay over the whoooole place. So cold, but there wasn't any sign of snow.”
It was a habit he'd begun among his many attempts to urge her to talk. Dokja had read somewhere that the more language kids were exposed to young, the better off they'd be.
He was a reader, not much for authoring, but he found that Biyoo's attentive eyes watching him as he spoke opened up a gate in his head. Whatever story she wanted, he would spin it for her.
They stopped at a crosswalk, the light red as they waited. Biyoo swung their connected hands back and forth. “The metal beasts of the city ran through the streets. Puffing out great clouds as they went. Soon enough, the clouds could go into the sky, and they would bring snow.”
“Bwah.” She pointed to the greenlight that had just turned. He nodded and smiled, “The little dokkaebi knew the way of the beasts. She must watch as they run, always looking both ways before walking across their paths.”
Biyoo puffed up her chest and pointedly looked both ways. Dokja did the same, and they crossed the street. This continued as they walked, Biyoo prodding him along by pointing out plants and buildings. He would always reply as the Narrator, regaling her with accounts of the ‘vast forests’ and ‘many castles’ the two passed by on their way home. Once, he even recounted how the ants had built a great wall that the two of them had to climb to find their way home. They carefully stepped over the line of insects that trotted across the sidewalk.
“And so the little dokkaebi and her dad once again arrived home after braving the many obstacles in their path. Dinner tonight would be a feast of all the japchae they could eat.” They climbed the stairs to their apartment, and he unlocked the door. She ran inside and took off her shoes to set them neatly to the side.
Dokja loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket with a sigh, going about making dinner. “Wash up, please, Biyoo.”
She nodded and went to their small bathroom. After she was done, the two of them prepared the food. She always insisted on helping him, though often it came in the form of Biyoo humming whatever song she had made up that day as she handed him vegetables or spoons while he cooked.
Dokja stirred the pan. As he often did, he had connected his phone to the small TV, and Biyoo was watching in fascination as some small animated animals went on whatever adventure it was that was playing tonight. He plated out two bowls and set one in front of her as she sat on her cushion next to their low table. She put her hands together and nodded seriously (her way of saying thank you), digging into the food with gusto.
The evening passed comfortably until it was bedtime for Biyoo. She held his hand as he tucked her into their bed, “I think it's time for another story, yeah?”
To his surprise, she shook her head and hummed loudly. “What, a song then?”
She nodded, squeezing his hand, “Baba, music!”
Dokja smiled, “I'll grab my guitar then, dokkaebi.” He rose from sitting on the edge of the bed and slid open the closet. He carefully pulled his guitar case from inside, unclasping it and pulling out his guitar.
It was a beat-up old thing. The instrument had already been well used when he'd bought it from a classmate fifteen years ago, but Dokja had been careful with it, and so the guitar still held on even after all this time.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, cradling the guitar carefully in his lap. He winced as he strummed, the discordant sound of the strings unpleasant. One by one, he tuned them, and hummed in satisfaction when the next strum sounded just right.
“What will it be tonight, Biyoo?” Dokja patiently waited as the girl scrunched up her face deep in thought. She lit up and then put her small hands together, hooking her thumbs with each other as her fingers flapped. The one about the birds, then. He smiled and gently prodded, “Can you ask for me, dokkaebi…?”
She looks up at him, but remains silent. After a moment, she flaps her joined hands again. He sighs, but doesn't push. Biyoo would talk in her own time.
He adjusted his grip on the guitar, head bowed down as he put his fingers on the frets and his other hand on the strings. And he began to quietly play.
Dokja had spent considerable time learning the guitar when he was younger. Reading and music became his escape from reality-- no. They were his reality for a long time. When nothing else mattered, he could always come back to his web novels and to his guitar. When he moved out after high school, he reveled in the ability to play whenever he could. No longer limited by living with others, he played and played and played.
His time in the military had been hard, but even when music was denied from his hands, he had his novels. One way or another, Dokja let reality become the stories he read or listened to.
When Biyoo started living with him, it had been a hard adjustment period. She had missed Bihyung, her biological father, and Dokja was left on the back foot as he was unprepared for how different things would truly be. When he'd agreed to take her in while Bihyung pursued his career, he knew it would be difficult, but the reality still hit hard.
In the end, the thing that had saved his life so long ago had also been the one thing that brought solace to his home: stories. Biyoo could sit there for hours, just listening intently as he read or played for her. When she cried, Dokja would take her in his arms and gently talk her through the problem until she calmed. She learned how to express herself through searching his phone or the radio for the music that matched what she was feeling. It would be a long time before she could read, but she could recognize her favorite books by sight alone, excitedly grabbing one and running it to Dokja for him to read to her.
So the little rituals began between them. The narration, the bedtime stories, and songs. She loved it so much, and Dokja found himself feeling the same weight of comfort each time.
Family--- Dokja had a lot of baggage when it came to family, but for Biyoo, he made every moment together count. She would never feel alone, he vowed. Not like how he'd grown up. So he began to sing softly as the guitar hummed with the chords he played.
“Little birds in the tree sing, little fish in the river splash. All the small things make their way to spring.”
A long time ago, Dokja had tried his hand at writing music. Even posted some of it on StarStream. It had never gone anywhere, but he had liked doing it. He had to admit many years later, though, that he wasn't a writer, not much of one anyway. But he listened and read, so Dokja took what he knew and made the songs he thought Biyu would like.
Her eyes fluttered shut as he sang, and it wasn't long before she was fast asleep. Her small hand that had been clinging to the edge of his shirt was slack now. He played a little longer as she slept, letting the movements of his hands lull him into a quiet kind of content. When he finally set down the guitar, he slid the blanket up over her a little more and tucked her arm back under the covers.
“Goodnight, dokkaebi…” He pressed his lips to her forehead and stood up to turn off the bedside lamp, just leaving the squid-shaped nightlight for her.
He left the door slightly cracked for her as he left their bedroom. Dokja went about cleaning up the dishes and tidying the house. There was still some time before he'd need to go to bed, also.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he swiped it open as he put away the last of the dishes. Supreme_King was online. Dokja smiled slightly. He flipped through StarStream and opened Joonghyuk's livestream. Even after the band became intensely popular, the lead singer would still return to his gaming streams a couple of times a week. Dokja watched most of them since they were later in the evening.
He propped up his phone and sat at the table to watch. Tonight, Joonghyuk was playing a first-person survival game called Ways to Survive. He propped up his chin and watched with interest.
The original webnovel that Ways to Survive was based on was actually one that Dokja had followed religiously when it was still publishing chapters. To his chagrin, it had finished last year with a rather rushed and anticlimactic ending. Worse than that, it was a cliffhanger.
Dokja had been astonished when the author had noted in the final chapter that this was not the end of the story. In fact, in a surprise announcement, tls123 had confirmed that a game based on the novel was going to come out next winter, even though the novel had ended. He still didn't know who the author had bribed in Constellation Gaming to make this become a reality. By all rights, there was zero reason for it to happen, from Dokja's perspective.
The novel had been popular thirteen years ago when the author had first started publishing it, but as time wore on, the readers became bored with the admittedly tired and heavy-handed tropes and storytelling. By chapter 100, there had been a handful of readers left. Dokja was one of the few who stuck around and continued to read.
He would be the first to admit that the webnovel was kind of trash, but that didn't stop him from loving it. The main character, who also happened to be named Yoo Joonghyuk, was stubborn and horrendously violent. But he never gave up despite how many times he had to regress to see the end of the scenarios he was put in. It was embarrassing, but in his younger days, Dokja would often daydream about what it would be like to be a character in Ways to Survive.
“--- Timeout chatter DarkAbyssFlame for spam, Uriel.” The near-perpetual scowl on Junghyook's face was a little more pronounced as he said that. Dokja chuckled, the chatter in question having been arguing with another member about the logistics of some edgelord class that was present in Ways to Survive.
Dokja wasn't sure how close the game was to following the original novel, but if DarkAbyssFlame had actually read any of it, they'd know that most Demon-type classes were incredibly weak later on in the story if you didn't know how to use them properly.
The Transcendent class had definitely been the way to go if Dokja had to judge based on Joonghyuk's gameplay so far. The classes weren't one-to-one in comparison to the novel, but they were pretty close. Joonghyuk's character was currently fighting undead in a bid to get across the bridge needed to complete the scenario. His melee skills were above average, but right now, the hoard of zombies seemed to be proving difficult to manage.
As Dokja watched, he noticed something. He leaned forward and squinted at the tiny screen. Was that…?
Yes, it was. Just like in the novel, too. He debated what to do as he watched Joonghyuk play, but when his character died once again to the zombies, he made a decision.
Joonghyuk swore under his breath as he reloaded the game, while Dokja picked up his phone and began to type. When he was still active on StarStream, he'd accrued some coins from the few people who'd watched his videos. He used those now to send a sponsored message to the livestream. He propped his phone back up and continued to watch.
Supreme_King was a very popular livestreamer, usually clocking in a couple of thousand viewers every time he went live. It was likely that Dokja's message would be lost in the sea of others also sending sponsored messages with their coins. But the worst that could happen was that he'd be ignored. He had never even sent a message in the chat afterall, so that'd be a reasonable response.
To his surprise, however, one of the mods fast-tracked his message to the livestream after a minute. Dokja's message popped up near the top right of the stream, and the text-to-speech bot began to read as Joonghyuk slashed through the undead that approached him.
DK_Salvation: Joonghyuk, it looks like there's a breakable floor near the start of the map. It should have something to help you. Good luck.
The usual expression of concentration did not leave the gamer's face as he bulldozed his way through the enemies in front of him. Dokja leaned back with a sigh.
Couldn't really blame the guy, the audience of chatters was full of people trying to make ‘helpful’ suggestions. And it's not like the man to take that kind of advice at face value from a nobody---
Joonghyuk backstepped away from the crowd, and turned from them as he ran away from the bridge to the subway station starting point. Dokja blinked and leaned forward to watch closely. Was he…?
He was! Joonghyuk's character ran back into the station. He scanned the floor, and finding what he was looking for, stomped through the floor tiles that Dokja had spotted earlier. Inside, there was a small parcel. A pop-up in the game revealed its properties:
Potion of Necrotic Resistance x 3 acquired! You are the first to find this Hidden Piece. Points being calculated for this achievement…
The chat flew by as many people expressed their astonishment. The game was brand new, and rumor had it that no one had gotten to the final scenario to beat the game yet. So, no walkthroughs and no full gameplay of the entire adventure have been published yet.
Dokja couldn't help being a little smug as he leaned back on his hands. Guess the game seriously referenced the novel afterall.
“...Uriel, don't do that again. Timeout that chatter for spam. 15 minutes.”
Dokja gawked, and sure enough, he was timed out from the chat before he could type out anything in response. That bastard.
JudgeOfFire: Sorry, Joonghyuk!! =<_<=
DarkAbyssFlame: ahahahaha nice one!
jhy_wife12: bet dk_salvation looked that up just to impress him. loser
Sages_Hair: *points and laughs*
Ergh. Dokja runs a hand through his hair as Joonghyuk downed a Potion and jumped back into the fray. This is what he gets for going out of his way for the guy.
“Ban chatter jhy_wife12.” He looked back at the stream, a little surprised to see a dark expression on Joonghyuk's face as he made that proclamation. The rest of the chatters also expressed surprise, but the gamer ignored them for the rest of the map. Dutifully, one of the mods banned the user in question, and that was that.
Dokja thought about sending another message after the timeout ended, but he dismissed the notion. Joonghyuk obviously didn't want the help, and defending himself would only get him banned, so he wasn't going to push it. As much as he was insufferable, watching the guy's livestreams was pretty fun. He'd hate to get permabanned for real.
Another hour passed like that, and Dokja now sprawled on his side as sleep threatened to overtake him while watching. His eyelids were heavy, and he knew he'd regret the lost sleep in the morning. Oh well.
He glanced at the chat. He chuckled when he saw JudgeOfFire, or Uriel, arguing with DarkAbyssFlame again.
JudgeOfFire: he's sooo mean! I just thought the message would help him >//<
DarkAbyssFlame: he hates nosy people. back seat gamers are the nosiest of all >:3
Apostle: sunfish wouldn't know a helping hand if it slapped him tbh. i definitely know from experience
JudgeOfFire: yeeeeah, I guess you'd know best, Apostle :’)
Joonghyuk ended the stream not long after, simply signing off with a succinct, “This is the last stream of February. I won't be streaming at the beginning of March either. Bye.”
The livestream ended, and the screen went dark. Dokja was admittedly a little disappointed, but he knew things were ramping up for the band. They had a couple of concerts around Seoul in March, so he'd likely be too busy for a while.
He sat up and stretched, his back cracking. Time for bed, then. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, idly swiping through his phone. Maybe it was time to give Ways to Survive a reread. It had been a while, and seeing it brought to life in the game had filled him with a deep nostalgia.
Dokja quietly snuck into the bedroom and slipped into bed with Biyoo. Careful not to disturb her, he lay back and closed his eyes.
His mind lingered on Joonghyuk's stream as he slowly fell asleep. A small smile crept onto his face. That bastard had actually listened to him. The wonders never cease.