Chapter Text
Kim Dokja had a routine. For him, a good day was a good day if it was the same as the one before. A routine kept him steady. It stopped him feeling like he was falling into a void uwith no ending. It was comforting; like rereading a familiar book that had been just fine the first time and would be just fine again. With nothing… unexpected.
Sometimes Kim Dokja felt more like a cockroach than a reader. Pacing in a circle again and again with no real purpose and no desire to find one. A dokja living a dokja’s life. Reading, yes. But never picking up the pen to write something for himself.
But even a reader couldn’t read just one story forever.
This was a truth he had known for a while. He had learnt it when he was a child covered in blood watching his father on the floor. When he moved to yet another high school to live with yet another set of apathetic family members. When his military service started, then his first job, then his second, then all the ones after that.
When he stopped writing to his soulmate after- after, well, everything, because every time he tried he couldn’t figure out how to explain the bruises and cuts and the ugly white scar that now tore its way down their backs.
On the days when he felt especially lonely, Kim Dokja wondered if Yoo Joonghyuk was ever asked about it.
———————————
Kim Dokja sat on the train to work. He bounced in his seat with every shake of the carriage. Though many people were bothered by this, he had never felt it was an issue. In fact, his commute was the best part of his day. On the way there, he could sit, uninterrupted, and read his web novels. On the way back he could watch Yoo Joonghyuk’s live streams. His paradise.
The novel he was reading right now wasn’t great, but Kim Dokja didn’t mind. The story; the plot; that was gripping. He could get past the shitty writing and hackneyed imagery. The heroine, who had disguised herself as a boy to train to become a fighter was now facing her mortal enemy. The final fight scene of the novel was coming up, and Kim Dokja was excited for the resolution, if only so he could move on to a different, hopefully marginally better novel.
Unfortunately, the train pulled into his station and Kim Dokja was forced to stand and begin the trek to the Minosoft headquarters. If he was the type to complain, he would have moaned that every time he walked there his soul shrunk just a little more.
But not Kim Dokja; corporate monotony was his chosen path. As a crucial pillar of the Korean workforce, he stepped into work each day with a bright face and ready mind.
“Kim Dokja! Where’s my report! You were supposed it file it last night you stupid fu-” his supervisor screamed.
Kim Dokja sighed. He had only just stepped into the building.
After showing his supervisor exactly where the necessary papers were (right on his desk actually; Han Myuongh had simply decided not to check before abusing him), he doggedly worked on his reports on the various games he had tested. Time passed slowly. After what must have been half the day, Kim Dokja checked the clock only to see that he was about an hour into the workday. Oh well. Quality not quantity, right?
He pulled out his phone to take a well-deserved break. Halfway through the ending fight, that unfortunately was as poorly written as the rest of the book, he felt a light scratching on his arm. Kim Dokja pulled up his sleeve and smiled fondly at the notes written there.
Lee Jihye fight strategy not good - min max build for naval battle - play style suited for support role - try next round maybe with Hyungsung?
Ah. Yoo Joonghyuk was always so responsible. Though Kim Dokja liked many stories, this one; the story of Yoo Joonghyuk; was his favourite. The air felt lighter for a moment, easier to breathe.
Then his supervisor barged in and Kim Dokja went back to pretending to do his job.
For lunch, he went to a new cafe near the office. Yoo Sangah, his co-worker and only real friend at the office, had finally coerced Kim Dokja into regularly going out for a meal to ‘maintain their friendship’ despite his initial attempts to keep her away. She only grew more persistent after she was transferred to another department; their schedules rarely aligned anymore, making casual hangouts nearly impossible.
At first, he had believed that Yoo Sangah was only doing all this out of a misguided sense of pity for him. She was a model employee and Kim Dokja was, well, a bit of a failure. But as it turned out, she had decided they would be friends after their joint interview and Sangah, for all of her polite, demure exterior, had a steely resolve; He was unable to evade her persistence forever.
So now every other week she dragged him to a different cafe, and they would have lunch and a debrief. Kim Dokja wandered into the cafe. It was small and cozy, with plants dotted around the place and lots of wood panneling. He found Yoo Sangah sitting in a small booth, reading a newspaper.
“Sangah-ssi! How are you?” He sat across from her.
Yoo Sangah smiled at him. She had a smile that made it feel like she genuinely wouldn’t be happier anywhere else “Dokja-ssi! How have you been?” She sighed, exasperated. “You look like you haven’t slept since last time.”
Kim Dokja smiled nervously and gave a small bow. “Sorry Sangah-ssi !” He gave a nervous laugh. “Deadlines, you know?”
Her serious expression broke into a smile and she patted the seat beside her
They chatted for the better part of an hour, catching up on life’s small details. The best quality about Yoo Sangah was her ability to listen and truly hear what was going on. It made her an amazing source of advice, especially when Kim Dokja was panicking and needed an outside opinion.
“You know,” Yoo Sangah shuffled in her seat. “I’m thinking of meeting with my soulmate soon.”Kim Dokja’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t look so surprised! I’m the one who suggested it to her.” She laughed.
“But Sangah-ssi!” Kim Dokja widened his eyes, mock-hurt. “What about our solemn oath to reject soulmates and societies whims forever? Will you really leave me all alone? For the other woman?”He clutched at her hands. “You traitor.”
Yoo Sangah’s relationship with her soulmate was very different to Kim Dokja’s. They had written to each other since they were young, but at some point during their teenage years, had decided that it would be better to not meet.
Kim Dokja had never been able to find out exactly why, but he had gathered that Yoo Sangah’s family were quite conservative; the kind who believed that being with someone other than your soulmate was a sin, but the kind who also believed that a woman being with another woman was equally horrific.
Her soulmate’s family shared the same perspective. So, they both wrote to each other but decided it was too risky to meet.
Yoo Sangah looked him in the eye. “A week ago I decided to cut off contact with my family.”
Kim Dokja drew a sharp breath. For Yoo Sangah, that was a big deal; her family was her life. “What happened?”
A bitter smile twisted its way onto her face. “I told them my soulmate was a woman. At first they didn’t believe me. Then they threatened to remove the bond. My mother started yelling at me and my dad was just sitting there, staring…” she trailed off. “I ran out and I don’t think I’ll be going back.”
Kim Dokja put a hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry that your family wasn’t better. But… I’m glad that you got out of there. I don’t think they deserve someone like Sangah-ssi”. And that really was true. Yoo Sangah was one of the most genuine, as well as one of the most talented people that Kim Dokja had ever met. She was a protagonist in a world of background characters, shining brighter than the rest.
She breathed in. “I think it was time for me to go.” She gave him a shaky smile.
“Is there anything I can help with? I could offer you a place to sleep for a bit, but unfortunately my apartment is a bit small.” Kim Dokja wanted to help. Yoo Sangah had done so much for him, including getting him his current job. He wanted to pay her back.
“It’s fine. Thank you for the offer. You’re very sweet, Dokja-ssi, but I have some old college friends who have a spare room.” Yoo Sangah hesitated. “It’s weird though. Before I was always with them, but now? I just spend so much time alone.”
Kim Dokja’s heart sank. Another person, just like him, with their parents taken away. It didn’t matter what age you were. It still, and always would, hurt. He squeezed her hand. She looked up and gave him a knowing smile. Kindred spirits could always find each other.
As they were parting ways, Yoo Sangah suddenly turned to Kim Dokja. “Dokja-ssi, what about your soulmate? Isn’t it time to reach back out to them as well?”
At that, Kim Dokja laughed. “Bye bye Sangah-ssi. Good luck with everything!”
The one thing Kim Dokja knew he would never do is speak to his soulmate again. He had spent the past ten years convincing him he was dead; Kim Dokja couldn’t backtrack now. Yoo Joonghyuk was better off without him, he reasoned for the 100th time. Yoo Joonghyuk lived a good life, that Dokja would ruin. He might not be the same, broken kid that he was, but it didn’t mean Kim Dokja was good.
It didn’t mean he was enough.
Not for Yoo Joonghyuk, he thought as he walked into the building. He tapped his foot, waiting for the elevator. Perfect, famous Yoo Joonghyuk, whose reputation would be ruined by mere association with Kim Dokja. Yoo Joonghyuk, who had just managed to rebuild his life out of the scraps given to him as a child.
The doors pinged open. A man shouldered past him, nearly knocking him over and disrupting his chain of thought.
“Oi! Watch where you goi-”. Kim Dokja froze. For the first time in his life, he stood face to face with Yoo Joonghyuk.
———————————
Yoo Joonghyuk had been Kim Dokja’s favourite story for a long time.
Once upon a time, scratchy hangul had appeared on his arm.
‘helo my name iz Yoo Joonghyuk.’
6 year old Kim Dokja had looked down and it and been confused. There were two issues with this unexpected writing on his arm:
Firstly, his spelling would never be that bad. He prided himself in his literacy; he had won the spelling competition!
Secondly, he hadn’t even written it in the first place.
Thinking about it carefully, he decided to ask his mother after school. Looking around surreptitiously, he carefully yanked his sleeve down. It wouldn’t be good for someone to think he wrote like that. He wrote much better.
But when he showed his mother the letters (after making sure she definitely knew that he hadn’t written it) her eyes started glistening.
Kim Dokja was confused. He didn’t like how the corners of her mouth kept pulling down, as if she couldn’t help it. He really didn’t like the rapid blinking. He hated how his normally cheerful, singing mother seemed to be lost for words.
He turned and ran to his bedroom.
She didn’t follow him.
After he came out, his mother called him over to sit at the table. For a Serious Conversation. Kim Dokja didn’t like these. The last one had involved a detailed lecture on what to do when his Dad came back late (Stay in the bathroom, lock the door, and DON’T come out until I tell you. Ok Dokja-yah? Bring a book. It’s like a game! But a game for grownups, not children. Dokja-yah, are you listening?)
This one was different. It was on that day that Kim Dokja learnt about soulmates.
His mother cleared his throat. Kim Dokja stared at her hands in her lap, where her fingers repeatedly tangled and untangled with each other.
“Your soulmate. It’s like…” she fumbled for the words. “The’re someone who you are tied to forever; who you can never lose.”
“Like you?”
She laughed. Kim Dokja savoured the rare sound. “Yes, but even more. Because you physically cannot lose them. You share your skin, see?”She pulled up Kim Dokja’s sleeve .
“Your soulmate wrote that on their arm. And now it’s also on yours.”
Her forehead creased, and she stared at Kim Dokja intently.
“Dokja-yah… your soulmate can be wonderful. They can be your best friend, or your lover, or your mentor. They look and you in you they can see a little piece of yourself.”
Kim Dokja squirmed in his seat. That sounded icky.
“Listen Dokja. This is important. Some people see themselves and hate it. They can’t stand it. When you meet your soulmate, you become vulnerable. It’s… mentally easier to inflict the pain you wish you could inflict yourself on someone else. To share it, even if they don’t want it. And you’re stuck. Because they’re your soulmate.” Her laugh was a sharp bark that cut straight to Kim Dokja’s core. “Promise me, Kim Dokja. You’ll stay away from your soulmate. No matter what anyone says. They’re not worth it.”
“Is Dad your soulmate?”
“Go to bed Dokja.”
Kim Dokja did go to bed. And he thought. He thought for as long and hard as he could manage, before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded over to the pile of books that had been erected in his room.
He found the dictionary. Reaching on his tiptoes, his fingers managed to gently ease the book out from its position in the stack.
soulmate
noun
soul· mate ˈsōl-ˌmāt
1. A person who shares a piece of their soul with another, giving them the ability to share marks, injuries or stains on their skin.
2. A person who intrinsically understands you.
3. A person who loves you - the person who you are destined to be with.
Oh. Kim Dokja wondered if his soulmate would like books as well. Or at least understand how Kim Dokja liked them; the way he needed stories and words and meaning as much as he needed water. He realised he wanted to know what his soulmate liked. Did they like tomatoes, the forbidden fruit?
He suppressed a gag. If they did Kim Dokja didn’t think he’d EVER be able to talk to them.
Well. He wasn’t allowed to talk to them anyway.
But what his Mum didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
And not everyone in the world would be like Dad. She had promised him that before; during long nights on the floor of the bathroom when she whispered soft comforts and stories into his ear.
And Kim Dokja, more than anything, was curious. He wanted to know who this person he was tethered to was. He wanted to read this new story that he could almost sense unfolding out in front of him.
Kim Dokja found a pen. And he wrote.
‘Hello.’
He put the pen down. He wasn’t really sure what else to say. Scampering back to bed, he pulled the duvet up to his nose and tried to force his eyes shut.
A scratching on his arm stopped that. Kim Dokja shot up, scrambling for the light switch and the pen. He could feel something jumping about in his chest, urgent and insistent.
‘ar you my soulmate ?’
Kim Dokja scoffed.
‘Are. You spelt it wrong.’
‘did not’
‘Yes you did. Your spelling is really bad.’
‘I hayt you.’
His soulmate didn’t say anything else for a while
A pang shot through Kim Dokja’s chest. He had messed up. His soulmate hated him. A small tear slid down his face, and Kim Dokja hurriedly wiped it away, smudging the ink on his hand. His mum had been right. He turned off the light and pulled the covers above his head, ignoring the persistant scratching on his arm.
The early hours of morning brought the arrival of Kim Dokja’s father. He stumbled in, yelled for his wife and then collapsed on the sofa. A better day than most. Kim Dokja tried to fall back asleep, but it was already too light. Besides, he wanted to read a bit before school started.
As Kim Dokja reached for his book, his sleeve fell alway slightly. He stared. His arm was covered in writing. He could barely see the skin beneath the scrawls.
One phrase stuck out to him.
‘im sorry’
Huh. Kim Dokja hadn’t realised that was something someone could do. Take back words like that with a simple apology.
He tiptoed to the bathroom and scrubbed down him arms until they were red and raw but devoid of any messages. Then he lifted his pen and wrote in neat, sharp Hangul.
‘I’m sorry too.’
And after some hesitation-
‘Can we be friends?’
For the rest of the day Kim Dokja checked his forearm and pretended not to be disappointed when he saw nothing.
‘yes. wot is yor name?’
Kim Dokja hesitated. His mother’s warnings rang in his ears. He thought about the main character from the book he was reading.
‘My name is Salvation.’
Yoo Joonghyuk clearly did not believe him. ‘thats a wird name’
He hesitated. Kim Dokja had been caught out. ‘I know.’
Kim Dokja didn’t want to lie. But he didn’t want to tell the truth even more. If his soulmate knew who he was, it might get back to his Mum. He didn’t want to upset her.
Yoo Joonghyuk was quick to respond. thats wird. Then a moment later ‘do you like video games’
Kim Dokja replied immediately.
———————————
Yoo Joonghyuk stood in the lift, facing the buttons. He pressed one, and it was only when Kim Dokja realised the doors were closing again in front of him that he rushed forwards almost on instinct. Kim Dokja felt the salaryman take over as he lunged forwards and stuck his hand in the door, causing them to open. He marched in.
Seemingly, Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t even noticed.
Kim Dokja coughed, embarrassed. He caught his reflection in the mirror because what the fuck was going on an-
“Excuse me?”
Kim Dokja turned, slowly, a feeling of horror sinking into his bones. The one person he had been trying to avoid for the better part of his adult life was now directly addressing him.
You can do this Kim Dokja. There’s no reason why he should realise you’re his soulmate. He never even knew your name.
He put on his best ‘salaryman Kim Dokja’ voice. “Yes?”
“You were staring at me.”
“N-no I wasn’t!” Kim Dokja replied, indignant. “I was staring at myself thank you very much. As if anyone would want to look at you.” That was quite possibly the worst insult Kim Dokja had ever come up with, because, let’s face it, everyone would want to look at Yoo Joonghyuk. He had the face of an idol and a Greek god all rolled into one, perfect work of art.
Yoo Joonghyuk simply raised one eyebrow, and turned to face the other direction. The ride was excruciatingly long. Kim Dokja prayed for another person to get on the elevator, to break the tension, but it was as if everyone could sense the icy aura in the box and knew not to get on.
tick tick tick tick
Yoo Joonghyuk wore a smart looking watch on his wrist, obviously from an expensive brand. But Yoo Joonghyuk must have been scammed, because how could the seconds be passing by so slowly?
tick tick tick tick
Kim Dokja coughed, and though he was staring determinedly at the floor, he could feel Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes prickling the back of his neck.
tick tick tick tick
The elevator must have broken down. Kim Dokja shuddered. At that moment in time, he could not think of a single thing that would be worse.
tick tick tick tick
Finally, the doors opened, and Kim Dokja practically sprinted out of the elevator. What the fuck was that.
The rest of the day passed by in the same, unremarkable way it always did. Like most days, his train back was delayed. Kim Dokja ambled to the convenience store where he stared at the discount gimbap, trying to figure out which one would give him the most fuel without causing him to be violently sick.
But never fear; he was an expert at this. He picked out the least offensive one, and smiled softly. Did Yoo Joonghyuk like gimbap?
He walked back to the platform and sat on a bench. From experience, he knew the train would still be a while, despite the frequent assurances of the intercom system that it would be just ‘another five minute delay!’
Yoo Joonghyuk’s livestream had already started, and Kim Dokja hurriedly logged on. Yoo Joonghyuk was testing a new game; and with a stifled laugh he realised it was that Minosoft game that he had reviewed a few months ago. And if he remembered correctly, in level 10, right where Kim Joonghyuk was, opening that door would cause a massive-
BOOM.
Hah. He was right.
demonic_angel_of_ judgement😱💖🪽(mod): oh no!! XwX supreme king-nim are you okay!!
abyssal_dragon: HAHAHAHAHA
demonic_angel_of_ judgement😱💖🪽 (mod): kya! don’t be mean or I’ll ban you o-o
goldmonkeyking38: @demonic_angel_of_ judgement😱💖🪽 did you just type out ‘kya’!
cashup27: SUBSCRIBE TODAY FOR CASHBACK ROYALTY ON EVERY GAME YOU PLAY
user cashup27 was banned from the chat
secretly_plotting🌌: a silly move. supreme king-nim, you should be more careful
horseradish85: don’t worry supreme king-nim! im sure youll get it next time!
abyssal_dragon: as if
user abyssal_dragon has been muted for 10 mins
bejewelledflowerqueen: thanks mods!
bejewelledflowerqueen: good luck supreme king-nim. we’re rooting for you.
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem bothered. A slight raise of his perfectly shaped eyebrow belayed his surprise to KimDokja; but apart from that he remained the cool, confident Supreme King the world knew and loved.
Kim Dokja shifted his weight on the metal bench. This should be fun.
The narrative of the game was interesting enough, but the real draw of the game was its free world; to the casual gamer, it seemed that it was infinite, with unlimited characters and options.
In reality, it was just the same map copied over and flipped around, with NPCs coded to have slightly different hair colours depending on the location. But most wouldn’t recognise that; Kim Dokja only could because he remembered the early version when the NPCs used to flip upside down and levitate if you interacted with the for too long.
Yoo Joonghyuk finished killing the monster with one last swish of his sword. Wow. How had this perfect bastard already mastered the game! It was meant to be Minosoft’s most difficult release yet. Kim Dokja felt a small amount of shame for his company’s failings.
The reward for that particular mission was to rescue your soulmate, who had been trapped by a monster. As the banner came up announcing the victory and the next level, Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips thinned. Spamming the space bar, he quickly skipped through the cutscenes, something unusual for him.
demonic_delulu: whats master doing now
silenceup: NOOOOO I RLLY WANTED TO SEE THE CUTSCENE
goldmonkeyking38: oh well. We can see it online i guess
demonic_angel_of_ judgement😱💖🪽(mod): @supreme_kingyjh everything ok? we can finish here if you’d like
horseradish85: wait im confused what’s happened?
bejewelledflowerqueen: you’re a newbie, right?
horseradish85: yesss…
secretly-plotting🌌: supreme king-nim usually avoids mentions of soulmates. It’s something we’ve learnt not to bring up.
heyheydeliboy: that’s stupid he’s such a ***** he should just grow up.
abyssal_dragon: shut up about things you don’t understand you stupid f***ing idiot
user heyheydeliboy has been banned from the chat
demonic_angel_of_ judgement😱💖🪽(mod): you’re on thin ice @abyssal_dragon but I’ll let it slide :p
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t acknowledge the chat. He just kept playing, his expression returning to the normal blank canvas. Well as normal as someone who looked like he could be on the cover of Vogue. Kim Dokja looked up from the screen and stared out. A few trees grew there, and a small blackbird fluttered from one branch to another. Another one joined it, and they sat on the branch. Still. Together.
———————————
A few nights later, with a knock on his apartment door, Kim Dokja’s new story would begin.
Kim Dokja started at the sound, confused. He had been unwinding after a long, stressful day; all he wanted to do now was have a nice long sleep.
As far as he knew he hadn’t given his address out to anyone. To be truthful, he didn’t really have anyone to give his address to. The landlord would never come to his house. Kim Dokja gulped. Maybe it was a murderer. He glanced around the room, trying to see what he could defend himself with. Maybe today was his time, and there would be an axe-wielding lunatic on the other side of the door ready to end his life.
Oh well. At least I won’t have to go to work tomorrow. Han Myuongh will be pissed.
He wove his way through the cramped apartment, moving past the small table that he barely fit into (it’s not like he had any visitors anyway; he didn’t even have a second chair) to the door and peered through the peephole, brushing away flecks of peeling paint from in front of the lens.
Huh. He couldn’t see anyone. Kim Dokja frowned. Maybe the murderer had given up and gone to look for some other poor, underfed, soon to be ex-office worker. He turned around. His pot of water was nearly boiling, and Kim Dokja wanted to get his dinner finished quickly. With the end of his contract coming up, Kim Dokja’s bosses had been piling the workload on, squeezing the most out of those soon-to-be-leaving temporary workers who were desperate for a good letter of recommendation. This meant extra hours of late night overtime. All Kim Dokja wanted was to go to bed as early as possible and read web novels until his eyes shut.
He had opened the packet of instant noodles when the knock came again.
Kim Dokja sighed. He doubled checked his water, and realised that if it was a murderer on the other side of the door he could use the boiling liquid to defend himself. Satisfied, he yanked open the door.
Huh. He saw no one.
He peered left.
He peered right.
Then he looked down.
A young boy was standing there, wearing a faded green sweatshirt with some dinosaur print on it and shorts so big for him that they came below his knees. His messy, brown hair half covered his eyes, which were staring directly at Kim Dokja. He recognised the boy as one of his neighbours. His mother was a pretty but permanently harried-looking woman who seemed to be constantly working. She still had time to give Kim Dokja a warm smile whenever he saw her though. He would have guessed she was about the same age as him.
In another life, perhaps they would be friends.
“Hyung.” The child spoke, interrupting Kim Dokja’s musings.
“Umm,” Kim Dokja stammered, trying to figure out why the strange child was standing at his door.
The child continued to look directly at him, which wasn’t just a little bit creepy.
Kim Dokja cleared his throat. “Is there anything you need?”
The child looked away, now directing his burning gaze to the floor, but didn’t reply.
“Is everything okay?” Kim Dokja was now worried. In good conscience, he couldn’t just shut the door on this kid and leave him in the hallway. In the background, he could hear his water boiling. If he didn’t get there soon his shitty gas burner that only stayed on for 5 minutes at a time would break and Kim Dokja would lose his dinner. This process would have to be hurried up.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Lee Gilyoung”. The voice came out as barely a whisper.
Kneeling down, Kim Dokja met the kid’s eyes. “And what’s wrong Gilyoung-ah?”
Kim Dokja let the silence hang for a bit. Despite the pressing matter of his ramyeon, if Lee Gilyoung didn’t want to speak, he wouldn’t force him.
The silence broke. “My mum. She’s sick”. Lee Gilyoung’s voice was barely audible. “And I don’t know what to do, b’cause I came home from school and she couldn’t reply to me and I couldn’t wake her up and we can’t go to the doctor because we don’t have enough money and I’m rlly scared that-” he broke down into messy sobs.
Then, surprisingly, he reached forwards and flung his arms around Kim Dokja’s shoulders, his tears soaking through Kim Dokja’s shirt.
Ah. I guess I won’t be able to wear this tomorrow. I wonder if my spare shirt will dry in time.
Kim Dokja awkwardly patted him on the back. He was unsure of what to say.
Gilyoung stepped back and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, staring at him with big, worried eyes.
“Can you help her Hyung?”
Nope. No way. I can barely take care of myself, and I’ve got work tomorrow, and I’ve never really met either of them before. I don’t owe it to anyone to help them.
But Kim Dokja remembered being small, in a big world, where no one seemed to want you and no one seemed to care.
Twenty minutes later, he found himself power walking down a hallway, cough syrup in one arm and the snot covered hand of a 10 year old boy in the other.
Lee Gilyoung punched in the code to the apartment and they stepped inside. It was slightly bigger than his own, and cleaner than Kim Dokja’s could ever hope to be. Lee Gilyoung led the way into his mother’s bedroom.
The apartment had two bedrooms rather than just the one, but apart from that it seemed to have the same layout as his own. Books were scattered about the apartment; on the sofa, the table, the floor. He liked that. Oddly, most seemed to be about insects.
Unluckily for him, at that moment Kim Dokja stopped looking where he was going and stepped right on an unfortunately placed action figure.
“Fu-” he started, before Lee Gilyoung turned to stare at him. Kim Dokja straightened from his hunched position and blinked away the tears. He was a respectable office worker. A pillar of society. He wouldn’t lose face in front of a child.
In Kim Dokja’s admittedly limited medical experience, it seemed to be a bad cold. Lee Gilyoung’s mother had a high fever and a chest-shaking cough. Kim Dokja just hoped he would be enough to help her.
He gently shook her awake and administered the cough syrup. He then sent Lee Gilyoung from his position of anxiously hovering beside the bed to fill up a hot-water bottle for her. Kim Dokja followed him to the kitchen. He breathed a deep breath. He could cook. 100%. Easy.
Sick people needed hot food. Like soup. Soup needed hot water. He set about refilling the kettle that Lee Gilyoung had left out and quickly brought the water to a boil. Huh. He should buy one of those.
Kim Dokja poured the water into a saucepan, and then rummaged through the cupboards. He found vegetable stock, and after checking the label, added in some of it. He found some peeled ginger and garlic and added that in too. Soups needed lots of ingredients, right? What else could he add…
Lee Gilyoung wandered in, took one look at his concoction and took over. Under Kim Dokja’s suspicious eye, he added in various sauces and ingredients with such authority that he didn’t think to question him until he saw Gilyoung pick out a bag of chocolate biscuits with the clear intent of adding that too.
He rushed Lee Gilyoung away and stared at the broth. It didn’t look too bad. The ingredients Lee Gilyoung had added seemed normal enough. Kim Dokja tasted a bit. Slightly sweet, more than slightly spicy, but light and palatable at the same time. It would do.
He poured some into a bowl and brought it in for Lee Gilyoung’s mother. She seemed more alert than earlier, but her glazed expression told him that she was still far from fully conscious.
“I’ve brought some food. Gilyoung-ah, would you help your mother eat it?”
Lee Gilyoung took the bowl from him and started spooning soup into his mother’s mouth. He was more careful than Kim Dokja would expected from a child.
A pang shot through him. He was reminded of another young boy who had looked after his mother. Another boy forced gain experience beyond his years and a mother desperate to lift even a scrap of that weight off.
Kim Dokja frowned. “Gilyoung, have you eaten nothing yet this evening?”
The boy shook his head.
Returning to the kitchen, Kim Dokja found some rice cakes and added them to the soup, letting them cook in the broth. As he poured the soup into two bowls directly from the saucepan (who needed a ladle?) his grip slipped and he poured some directly onto his arm.
He bit back a yell of pain and slammed the pot back onto the hob. His arm was already turning red where it had come into contact with the hot liquid, and he ran to the tap to run it under the cold water.
Fuck that hurt.
By the time Lee Gilyoung returned to the kitchen, carrying an empty soup bowl, Kim Dokja had carefully cling-filmed his arm and tidied up the mess. They ate their meal in front of the TV, watching some cartoon that Lee Gilyoung was engrossed by and Kim Dokja was only mildly confused about the plot.
They washed up, and Kim Dokja checked in on Lee Gilyoung’s mother again. Her fever had decreased, and though still asleep, she seemed much more comfortable.
Kim Dokja stood in the doorway, ready to leave. He had thought about staying the night, but reasoned that that would be weird. Being next door was close enough anyway.
“If anything else happens Gilyoung-ah, don’t be afraid to come to me, ok?” He gave the boy a hug. “Now go to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow. I’ll come round in the morning to check on your mum again.”
“Hyung seems more tired than me.” Lee Gilyoung spoke in a petulant tone.
Kim Dokja laughed awkwardly. “Come on. I’m the adult here, right? I definitely get enough sleep”
A bald faced lie, that Lee Gilyoung saw through immediately. He shook his head.
“Night-night Hyung. Thanks for helping”.
By the time Kim Dokja got back to his apartment, it was late in the night. He packed away the saucepan he had left out and got his things together for the following day. After switching his shirt for a plain white t-shirt, he stumbled into bed, too tired to do anything else.
He woke early, worried about the sick woman next door. He wanted to check up on both her and Lee Gilyoung. Wandering down the hallway, still half asleep, he knocked, hoping Lee Gilyoung would hear.
The door was opened, and Dokja was happy to see Lee Gilyoung’s mother had survived the night. Though still bedridden, she sat up when Lee Gilyoung led Dokja into the bedroom and was able to take the syrup herself, albeit with shaking hands.
She thanked Kim Dokja profusely, and laughed when he seemed to shrink into himself and mumble about how “it was really nothing, no bother at all.” He still didn’t know her name, he realised, and now he was terrified of being caught out
“Let’s be friends, Kim Dokja-ssi? We’re neighbours, and it was silly that we never knew each other before. Once I’m better, you’ll come round for dinner.” She smiled at his hesitation. “My name’s Lee Yoona by the way.”
Kim Dokja felt odd. He hadn’t really done anything special, and he felt guilty intruding into their home. He resolved to simply refuse any invitation that came up; he was a busy office worker after all.
Kim Dokja reheated the rest of the soup for their breakfast and put together a haphazard packed lunch for Lee Gilyoung. Even if he couldn’t look after himself, Kim Dokja was determined not to fail Lee Gilyoung in the slightest.
Even if no one could look after me, I’ll never let Gilyoung-ah be left to fend for himself.
“Ahjussi, what’s that on your arm?”
Kim Dokja looked up from where he was roughly chopping some carrots because children need vegetables. He followed the child’s gaze down at arm. It was next to where it had been burnt the night before. In neat black handwriting, was a seemingly innocent message.
Salvation. Is it you?
Oh shit.
Yoo Joonghyuk knew he was alive.
———————————
Kim Dokja tried not to fret about his soulmate. He managed to spend the whole day avoiding the thoughts, until that evening when a notification popped up about Yoo Joonghyuk’s livestream being cancelled.
Yoo Joonghyuk. His soulmate who now knew that he was in fact still alive. His soulmate who may or may not have spent the last 16 years believing he was dead. In Kim Dokja’s defence, he had never confirmed nor denied his death to Yoo Joonghyuk. That was all Yoo Joonghyuk’s own assumption.
About his soulmate. Who he probably held 16 years of pent up rage towards. Yoo Joonghyuk hated being lied to, he hated being manipulated, and he hated being taken advantage of. Kim Dokja had basically done all three things to him! He was so screwed.
Yoo Joonghyuk would stop at nothing to hunt those who’d wronged him down. Newspapers still reported on the criminals who had attempted to kidnap his sister despite the incident taking place a year ago. The jury had ruled in self defence, but none of the perpetrators had got out of hospital yet.
Kim Dokja gulped.
He was fine. Yoo Joonghyuk had never met him. He didn’t even know what Kim Dokja’s name was. It would be impossible for Joonghyuk to find him. And the chances of them running into each other were next to nothing anyway. Why would a massive celebrity like Yoo Joonghyuk have anything to do with a minimum wage office worker?
Kim Dokja was safe. He was safe.
He crouched in a ball on the floor of his apartment. Breath in. Breath out. Stand. Open the door. Walk out. No Yoo Joonghyuk. Perfect. He would walk down to the convenience store now. What would Yoo Joonghyuk be doing in his shitty apartment complex anyway?
Before he left the corridor, he knocked in the door of Lee Gilyoung’s apartment to see if they needed anything. They didn’t; Lee Gilyoung had gone to a friend’s house and would be dropped back soon, and Lee Yoona-ssi was still recovering.
The store was just around the block, but it was chilly and he wanted to have quick. He grabbed a pack of noodles and some chocolate biscuits that were on sale. Kim Dokja nodded to himself. He deserved a treat.
Stepping outside the icy wind caught him again, and he hurried back to the apartment block. He slowed when he saw three figures standing outside, waiting to be buzzed in. He recognised one of them.
“Lee Gilyoung!” Kim Dokja called out.
The small figure turned immediately. “Ahjussi!”
His companions turned towards the voice as well. Kim Dokja looked up at them and stared.
He didn’t really recognise the girl. She was about Lee Gilyoung’s age, with short black hair. But the man with them was someone who Dokja could never mistake. A feeling of dread washed over him.
“Yoo Joonghyuk?” Why was his soulmate here?
Joonghyuk frowned. “Do I know you?”
Dolan laughed nervously. It sounded fake even in his own head.
“Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi, I think we bumped into each other before. In the elevator?” Kim Dokja should have felt relieved by that. That he was so unremarkable that even his own soulmate, who he had spent that past 10 years trying to avoid, couldn’t even remember his face. Kim Dokja should feel relieved.
Why were his eyes stinging instead?