Work Text:
It feels like waking up from a dream, something that is just out of reach.
It’s fuzzy. It’s light. Something faint.
He doesn’t remember. Where was he just a moment ago?
It feels like he’s forgetting something.
The room he is in is a bright white, almost blinding really. He hates it immediately.
Familiarity seeps within him as more of his senses come back to him. First, it’s through the regular sound of beeping, insistantly going beep, beep, beep. It’s a sound that he’s grown to hate, but nonetheless, its familiarity is grounding.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The voice is calm. It’s soothing, tones slow and gentle, like soft petals brushing against skin. The voice is feminine, not someone that he knows, definitely not from his mom. Did he wish it was her voice? Did he wish to hear her voice instead?
A cold hand brushes under his bangs, feeling his likely clammy forehead. Just like the voice from earlier, it’s gentle. He feels as if he is about to cry.
When was the last time he was held like this? Held with care; held gently.
Kim Dokja sits up from where he is lying and looks around for the first time since he registered waking up. From his observations, he guesses that he’s currently in a hospital room.
And his first thought as he realizes this is, Fuck, I’m missing work. His second is, thank fuck I’m missing work. Because while he can’t afford to skip any days from his QA job, he is also glad to not spend another day doing the same aimless task of checking for and making reporting of bugs that his QA lead never checks anyways.
How’d he get here again?
“Dokja-ssi?”
He turns to the side and sees a woman with long white hair and fair skin. Her eyebrows are furrowed with a genuine concern that he isn’t familiar with.
“Yes?” Kim Dokja replies.
“Okay good,” the woman mumbles under her breath while she goes to scribble something down.
“Do you know where you currently are right now?”
“A hospital?” His response gets the woman to move her hands, as if prodding him to continue. “Uh, Seoul, South Korea?”
“I mean…it’s technically not wrong,” the doctor drifts off, clicking her pen.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Well- Well I…” He starts, but before he can continue, he realizes that he actually doesn’t know the answer to that question.
I woke up, went to work, went on the train back home, and then passed out on my mattress, is what he wants to say, but finds that he can’t. It’s on the tip of his tongue, a routine so familiar and boring, it’s hard to forget. But why doesn’t it sound right? Why doesn’t it feel right?
It’s as if there is a hole in his memory, something he needs to stitch up but can’t find the right cloth to match.
It feels like he hasn’t done that same mundane routine in days. But that can’t be right, can it?
Kim Dokja holds his chin with his hand, thinking—trying to think. He can’t. He can’t.
“I–” he begins. “I woke up,” it doesn’t feel right. “Went to work,” did he? “Went on the train back home,” why can’t he remember? “And then passed out on my mattress,” it sounds like a lie.
He opens his eyes that he didn’t realize were closed, and looks up at her, as if asking for confirmation.
After a few seconds of scribbling, Kim Dokja hears the click of a pen and watches her place the pen onto a side desk.
“Well, you did damage your hippocampus, Dokja-ssi, so don’t worry if you can’t remember much,” she gives him a smile.
He lets out a breath of relief and slumps back in his hospital bed.
“But,” She starts, and Kim Dokja doesn’t like the sound of that. “From the looks of it, it does seem like there is a relatively big gap in your memory.”
She then looks at him with a look that Kim Dokja would describe as pity, or concern, or something in between; he can’t tell, or maybe he doesn’t want to know.
“How do I explain this…” she trails off, and suddenly Kim Dokja is worried about what she’ll say next. “From your last memory, to now, let’s just say, a lot has changed.”
What. Don’t tell me that 20 years have passed or something and I’ve just wasted years of my life.
The doctor says more about things that are probably important, but he doesn’t really hear her, his mind buzzing—creating noise of static.
The last thing he manages to catch is, “don’t worry, Dokja-ssi,” and he just nods his head, because that’s probably what you’re supposed to do when you’ve lost your memory or something.
“You’ll get used to it,” the doctor says just before the soft sound of a knock is heard from the door.
“Excuse me, may I come in?” Is said behind the door, softly as if not wanting to disturb anything.
The door opens a bit, revealing a girl with short blonde hair and a boy of a similar age peaking around the door. Don’t tell me these are my kids and I’ve forgotten all about them. Just how many years have passed?
“Seolhwa-unnie,” the girl begins, but before she could say anything else—and before Kim Dokja could register just what name she uttered out—she gasps and hurriedly makes her way to Kim Dokja’s side, hugging him. Kim Dokja’s arms hover around her, not sure where to put them.
The boy does a similar thing, also going to his side, “Hyung!” and Kim Dokja lets out a sigh of relief. So not their father then. Wait, whose kids are these?
“You’re awake!” The kids both shout, and it looks like they’re crying a bit, huh.
He hears another voice come from the hallway, “hey–! Ahjussi?!” their head pops in, a long pony-tail swishing behind her. “You’re awake?!”
She also comes inside the hospital room, but not as hurriedly as the two younger kids. This girl is calmer, but no less just as relieved as the other two.
Who the fuck are all these people. He looks up at his doctor in confusion, hoping she’ll provide him with an answer, but all he gets is a smile and amused eyes.
“What are you talking about? That bastard’s awake now?!” Another voice, catlike, and annoying. The owner of the voice walks in to reveal a girl with short hair, just as short as her height.
She walks closer to his bedside and leans herself on the wall and crosses her arms, “it took you a while,” she says with a witch-like grin.
He eyes her warily and squints his eyes, trying to see if she looks familiar. She doesn’t.
Then she squints back at him, “What’s wrong with this guy,” she says, looking up at the doctor.
“Well, when Dokja-ssi got hurt earlier, it damaged his hippocampus and caused him to lose some of his memories.”
“What?!” the uninvited guests in his hospital room shout in unison.
He feels a tug on his shirt and looks down to see the girl look up at him with a pout and hopeful eyes, “Ahjussi… you remember me, right?”
He doesn’t know what to say to that, because no, he doesn’t remember—he doesn’t know who anyone in this room is, but they clearly all know who he is. Kim Dokja doesn’t want to disappoint her with the truth, because it clearly sounds like he’s missing something important.
What is he forgetting?
Now serious, the woman with short hair asks, “Like what? What do you mean–”
Before she can continue, another woman, with long light brown hair walks into the room, but this time he knows her. He’s only seen her a few times, never had a real conversation with her, but she’d been the only nice one in their workplace.
“Sangah-ssi?” Kim Dokja says. And he’s glad there is at least one familiar face.
“Ah! Dokja-ssi, you’re awake,” she says happily, closing the door behind her gently.
“Hey– what about me! Ahjussi, do you remember me?” The girl with the ponytail looks at him and points a finger to herself.
And no, he doesn’t know her, so he shakes his head. Then he looks back at the younger girl hugging him, “I don’t know you either.”
He immediately regrets saying that, though, because the girl’s eyes well up immediately with tears.
“You too,” looking at the boy, and he starts wailing. Kim Dokja doesn’t know why seeing them cry makes his heart clench in his chest. He’s sorry. Sorry he doesn’t know.
He looks at the last person he didn’t address yet and says, “sorry, I don’t remember you either.”
The woman with short hair splutters, mouth agape. It looks like she’s trying to puzzle everything together, or maybe she’s realizing something. Either way, Kim Dokja doesn’t know.
“Hey, wait,” she looks at his doctor, “don’t tell me…”
Two more strangers burst through the room, one guy with extremely large muscles but a gentle face, and a woman with a presence that dominates the room. Once again he doesn’t know who they are. Did all of these people really know me?
“Dokja!”
“What about these two, Ahjussi?” the girl with the ponytail asks.
“No, I don’t… I don’t know either,” Kim Dokja says, eyes looking back and forth at the two new people in his room.
“Fuck, what is master going to think?” she mumbles under her breath, putting her fingers to her chin in a thinking pose.
Master? Kim Dokja furrows his eyebrows together; it’s strange, where has he heard that term being used before? It’s familiar, on the tip of his tongue.
“What’s going on?” The woman who just came in asks.
“Dokja’s lost his memories.”
Another ‘what?!’ is shouted into the room.
And Kim Dokja feels bad, so he says, “I’m sorry. Besides Sangah-ssi, I really don’t know who any of you are.”
It’s silent as he says this. Kim Dokja fidgets with his fingers, unsure of what to do. He scans the room and sees various emotions of worry and concern. There’s sadness in some of their eyes, their expression, their body language; and there’s frustration laced with forlornness in others.
“I–” Kim Dokja starts, before someone bursts into the room and causes his mouth to run dry.
‘I’ll try my best to remember’ is what he was going to say before a man wearing all black walks in with a serious expression and a scowl on his face.
And honestly, Kim Dokja forgets how to speak after that, words not forming correctly in his mouth because this probably is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. His presence is dominating, captivating all of Kim Dokja’s attention.
And Kim Dokja knows him. He knows him.
“Kim Dokja.”
-is all he says; it’s something he would never say—could never say.
There’s worry written in his eyes, Kim Dokja reads.
Reading him is the only thing he’s ever done, Kim Dokja has read him for a long time. Yet, he can’t quite understand why this ‘worry’ weaves around this man, weaving across his face, strung around his words, enlaced in his very being.
“You– You– You–!” Kim Dokja stutters out and points a shaky finger at him.
Or maybe instead of ‘you,’ maybe he wanted to say Yoo Joonghyuk instead.
Kim Dokja knows him. How could he not know him?
“Yoo Joonghyuk!?”
–
“It seems like you remember Yoo Joonghyuk okay.”
“Of course this fucker remembers that guy.”
“How come you remember him and not me, Hyung!”
“What the hell.”
“Master?”
Kim Dokja hears all of this around him but he doesn’t pay attention, he can’t pay attention. He just gapes and stares at Yoo Joonghyuk.
Fuck.
Kim Dokja can’t think.
It sounds as if he somehow transmigrated into Ways of Survival. But how can that be?
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk says again, as if saying that name was familiar to him.
“Do you remember now, Ahjussi?” The girl still clutching his shirt says, hopeful.
“I-” he looks down at her for a second before his eyes immediately snap back up the regressor, ultimately drawn back in by his heavy gaze. “I still don’t remember.”
He feels Sangah looking at what is probably the woman with short hair and hears her say, “Han Sooyoung,” in a stern voice.
“Shit, I know, I’ve realized it too,” Han Sooyoung grits out. “Hey, Seolhwa, he’s going to regain his memory, right?”
“I’m unsure actually,” it’s spoken with a frown enlaced into her words.
What Kim Dokja reads from Yoo Joonghyuk, before he hears him utter a spoken, “what?”
“He lost his memory?”
Yoo Joonghyuk sounds a bit lost himself as he says this.
“He doesn’t remember any of us, master, but it seems like he remembers you at least?”
It’s then that Kim Dokja manages to tear his eyes away from Yoo Joonghyuk, realizing what the girl in the ponytail is saying. Master?
If that is Yoo Joonghyuk, then… “Lee Jihye,” he says.
And Lee Jihye jumps and looks at him with wide eyes. “You remember me, Ahjussi?!”
Kim Dokja looks around and spots the man with the large muscles. He points at him and says, “and… Lee Hyungsung?”
The man nods, face similar to a hopeful puppy.
He turns to the woman he had thought was just an ordinary doctor, “and you’re Lee Seolhwa.”
He looks around the room once more, but that’s where the familiarity ends. There’s no Kim Namwoon here. Just what regression is this?
He looks back down, and with a leap of faith, he suggests, “Shin Yoosoung?” The girl beams at him and hugs him tighter, burying her face into him before looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
“So you remember now, Ahjussi?”
Slowly, Kim Dokja nods his head. “I think I remember your face a little,” he lies. “But not everything.” He doesn’t remember what relationships he has with these people, but he at least technically knows some of them.
He accidentally slipped earlier, saying their names like that. If Kim Dokja is right and Ways of Survival somehow integrated with their world, he doesn’t think he would let slip that he’s read that novel in its entirety.
“I’ll do my best to remember,” he says, and accidentally looks right at Yoo Joonghyuk as he does so.
—
After he gets approved by Lee Seolhwa and discharged out of the hospital, he finds himself sitting outside with the kids, Lee Jihye, Shin Yoosoung, and who he now knows is Lee Gilyoung.
“Just think of it, and it will pop up!”
They’re currently trying to teach Kim Dokja some things, and he really can’t believe that all of this is real. Because apparently they really are in the middle of an apocalypse.
He tries opening up his attributes list; tries to think of it, like they said, but nothing pops up. Instead Kim Dokja sees something else.
[‘The Fourth Wall’ is forbidding you from accessing your attributes!]
What the fuck. He stares blankly at the notification. “It didn’t work?”
Seeing his failure, Lee Jihye brings up nervously, “Uh, let’s try opening up some of the constellation notifications.”
He thinks about opening up the notifications and is immediately flooded with an immense amount of blue screens in his face.
Kim Dokja reads some of them in awe as they scroll past. Because this was cool. The UI is kind of ugly, but he’s always wanted to see how these screens looked like for Yoo Joonghyuk. They just– float there. In the air.
He manages to catch some of the messages, most of them coming from Uriel, mostly her wishing him a speedy recovery and similar messages. Kim Dokja has never really liked the constellations, how they used Yoo Joonghyuk and every other incarnation is pure entertainment. How then, is there a constellation, and many others, that are worried about him?
A puffball, bigger than a baseball, pops out of nowhere, blocking the screens.
“Baa-at!” it says, animatedly. It floats around and starts nuzzling his cheek.
“Biyoo!” Shin Yoosoung says.
“Baa-at ba-aht!” it starts flying around him and waving its small puffball arms around.
It seems like Biyoo is trying to tell him something, but he doesn’t understand. Kim Dokja tilts his head in confusion.
“Ba-aht ba-at…” Biyoo says, and it looks… sad.
“That’s your’s and master’s daughter!”
What. Wait what. Did he hear that right?
“What, Yoo Joonghyuk? Me and Yoo Joonghyuk?” He asks, because that can’t be right.
“Yes!” Lee Jihye says with full confidence, “I heard from Uriel that you gave birth!”
“...”
He did what?!
[Constellation ‘Demonic Judge of Fire’ nods her head fervently.]
[Constellation ‘Demonic Judge of Fire’ says that it’s true!]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ tries to imagine it in his head.]
“Okay let’s not do that.”
Is he forgetting something important here?
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall,’ absorbs some of your shock!]
—
The next time he encounters Yoo Joonghyuk is when he’s talking with Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah at the dining table.
“Did you really lose your memories?” Han Sooyoung worries the tip of her thumb in between her teeth.
“What do you want me to say, ‘no I didn’t’? I already told you I don’t remember,” he rolls his eyes at her. For some reason, it feels easy to talk to her and be more casual.
He has a feeling she won’t take it to heart.
“Fucker. Well to me it sounds like you clearly didn’t forget how to be an asshole.”
“Actually, maybe I didn’t forget and I’m just trying to mess with you.”
“Maybe I should punch you. Maybe it will hit you hard enough that you start to remember everything!” She forms her hands into fists, about to lunge, before Yoo Sangah—bless her soul, really—grabs her wrist to stop her.
Kim Dokja blows a raspberry at her in victory. Haha.
Han Sooyoung sticks out her tongue in disgust. “God, what are you, a child?”
Then she crosses her arms and blows a raspberry back at him.
He hears Yoo Sangah next to him choke back a laugh, trying to be serious.
Look who’s the child now.
As he stares at Han Sooyoung with a deadpan expression, he suddenly feels a chill run down his back. He turns around nervously and finds himself faced with a glare from a certain regressor standing in the kitchen. His usual scowl printed on his face. It’s scary, seeing it in person.
Then, he leans towards Yoo Sangah and whispers, “Is he out for my blood? Did my other self do something to piss him off?”
“No, I think that’s just how the two of you are,” Sangah says sweetly; considerate.
“He’s always like that with you—a weird mating ritual if you ask me,” Han Sooyoung says with a smirk, like the devil she is.
He looks back at Yoo Joonghyuk, just so that he can avoid whatever Han Sooyoung was trying to insinuate. He’s still glaring at him, but this time it’s a little less intimidating because he’s wearing a yellow apron that softens his looks.
Then he raises a knife to chop a tomato— and okay yeah maybe he is a little scary.
Kim Dokja turns back to look at Han Sooyoung. “But isn’t he with Lee Seolhwa?”
Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah turn to each other and blink.
“No?” Han Sooyoung questions, as if even the very thought of it is absurd to her.
Sooner or later, a fresh plate of omurice lands in front of his face on the dining table. And honestly, the smell, it smells too good. His mouth starts watering as he thinks about all of the food that Yoo Joonghyuk has cooked up in the novel. The way Ways of Survival explained how good the food tasted always made him jealous and left hungry.
And now, the food, cooked by Yoo Joonghyuk himself is sitting right in front of him. Honestly, he could cry right here and now.
The way the egg sits gently on the rice, fluffy and perfect, it’s– it’s– he can’t even put it to words.
Yoo Joonghyuk sits down, opposite of him and promptly glares at him.
Kim Dokja looks down and sees two identical plates of omurice topped with a tomato sauce handed to Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah.
He looks down at his own plate–
There's no tomato sauce on his, huh.
He gathers some food onto his spoon with a pair of chopsticks and lifts it to his mouth to try.
And, it’s good. It’s really good.
Stupidly, he can feel tears starting to well up in his eyes as he chews. It tastes comforting, familiar. It tastes like home.
In the corner of his eyes, he can see and feel Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze. It’s as if he’s seeking out some sort of approval from Kim Dokja. ‘Do you like it?’ is what Kim Dokja reads off of him.
‘Let me take care of you’ is written in Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze—words not spoken.
But that can’t be right, so Kim Dokja ignores those words he reads.
—
Later that night. Kim Dokja finds his own room out of muscle memory. As he lays in his bed he finds that it doesn’t feel exactly right. He can’t explain it. It’s more comfortable than what he’s used to—the mattress is too soft, not old and creaky.
It’s also too cold.
Kim Dokja rolls around his bed, tries sleeping on his side; uncomfy. He tries sleeping on his stomach; it doesn’t feel right. He lies back on his back and stares at the ceiling.
His eyes are heavy, he wants to sleep. He kicks his blanket so that his right foot peaks out. Then he starts counting sheep that look strangely like Biyoo in his head because surely doing something boring like that will allow him to sleep.
It doesn’t.
So, with a groan, he sits up and gets out of bed. His footsteps softly pad over the floor without conscious of where he is going.
His footsteps lead him out to and in front of a doorway. Kim Dokja peaks inside and sees Yoo Joonghyuk lying on his bed. It’s surprising, seeing him sleep peacefully for once, it makes Kim Dokja smile secretly.
Why did he come here?
He shuffles out of his daze and starts to quietly close the door in front of him before he hears a, “Kim Dokja,” paired with the shuffling of sheets.
Kim Dokja freezes as he sees Yoo Joonghyuk sit up and shove the blankets away, as if creating space for Kim Dokja to sit.
He doesn’t know what compels him, doesn’t know why he does it. He doesn’t understand why his feet walk toward him despite the amount of alarm bells ringing in his ears. But still, he walks forward and sits in the open space Yoo Joonghyuk provides.
Kim Dokja must have a death wish or something.
It’s a moment of weakness, really, that’s all it is.
It’s awkward, silent; quiet. The silence stretches for a period of time, because what can Kim Dokja say?
“You don’t remember me.” It’s a statement.
Yes, no, I don’t know.
Kim Dokja doesn’t know anything about this Yoo Joonghyuk, but he knows everything about every other Yoo Joonghyuk.
“I know you, Yoo Joonghyuk,” he says anyway.
Yoo Joonghyuk gives him a stare that looks mildly constipated. “But do you remember?”
Kim Dokja stares at Yoo Joonghyuk for a bit. It’s hard to see him in the dark, but the moonlight does well enough to illuminate some of the sharp features of his face.
He can’t read him right now.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall,’ is shaking.]
Or maybe he doesn’t want to.
Kim Dokja shakes his head. No, I don’t remember you, should I? His thoughts go unsaid.
Yoo Joonghyuk lets out a grunt and stares at his hands aimlessly. Not knowing what to do, Kim Dokja does the same. His eyes trace the mass amounts of scars that cover his protagonist’s hands. He knows where some of them came from, but there’s one on the back of his hand that Kim Dokja doesn’t know where it would have come from.
Kim Dokja frowns.
If he knew any better, Kim Dokja would say that Yoo Joonghyuk looks sad, like he lost something. But that wouldn’t make any sense. From the looks of it, this Yoo Joonghyuk has everything in this round.
—
After that first night, every night after that, Kim Dokja finds himself in Yoo Joonghyuk’s room.
He finds himself tucked under the blankets right next to Yoo Joonghyuk. He doesn’t know why, but it’s comforting. It’s a type of comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t say anything about it, so Kim Dokja doesn’t either.
But tonight, something compels him, and so he does something that he wonders if it is okay to do.
Shifting among the sheets Yoo Joonghyuk turns to face Kim Dokja, sleeping peacefully. He doesn’t snore, because of course he doesn’t (stupid protagonist genes), but he can tell that he’s asleep in the way that Yoo Joonghyuk deeply breathes rhythmically.
Kim Dokja stares at him, brushes his wavy hair out of his face before he sneaks in a kiss on his forehead.
If there is one thing that Kim Dokja told himself while he was reading Ways of Survival, it was that during his low moments, Kim Dokja has always wanted to give his protagonist a hug. As some sort of thank you.
And so he does, Kim Dokja wraps his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk’s broad back and gives him a gentle squeeze so that he doesn’t wake up from it. Then he tucks his head under Yoo Joonghyuk’s chin, hiding away. Kim Dokja’s own breathing comes out in uneven patterns, stringing together an awkward melody that doesn’t really match well with Yoo Joonghyuk’s steady breaths.
Thank you for saving me.
—
Clash, clang!
Kim Dokja takes a step back from their clash, Jung Heewon advancing towards him with her sword. He’s currently sparring against her as a method of training for an upcoming scenario. It’s unsure when he might regain his memories, if he even is going to all, so they’re making him train so that he at least can defend himself against any enemies.
Jung Heewon swings forward and a slash almost grazes his neck. He doesn’t really know where and how they managed to find someone as strong as this in their party. Last time he read the novel, there wasn’t any kind of mention of a swordsman that worked alongside Yoo Joonghyuk with this much vigor. It’s another thing he has to get used to, another thing he doesn’t know.
There’s relentless fire in every swing of her sword, a strong sort of commitment in her eyes as she pursues Kim Dokja relentlessly. To be honest, he doesn’t even know how he’s even managing to dodge her attacks.
[Constellation ‘Demonic Judge of Fire’ is rooting for her incarnation!]
[Constellation ‘Demonic Judge of Fire’ sponsors 500 coins to her incarnation.]
He looks up at the notification, a mistake on his part. It causes him to trip backwards and land on his ass on the dusty ground, dropping his blade in the process.
“Ouch,” he winces. Why was he training again? Did they really need him during this scenario?
The tip of a dull training sword is thrusted in his face.
“Yield,” is all Jung Heewon says.
–
Lee Hyungsung crouches next to where he is sitting down against a short stone wall and offers him some bottled water.
“Thanks,” he says before he immediately chugs down the whole thing.
“How do you guys manage to do this?“ Kim Dokja says, completely drained out of energy and sweating profusely.
“We’re all fighting to get stronger.” Lee Hyungsung sits back against the wall, next to him. He looks forward to what Kim Dokja had been watching, observing a Jung Heewon who is now sparring against Yoo Joonghyuk. Neither of them are holding back; it’s mesmerizing to watch their dance of blades. “We all have something we want to protect.”
Kim Dokja gives a noncommittal hum as he pays attention to Yoo Joonghyuk’s footwork. Step forward, another, step back, advance again.
“I think you did a pretty good job though, Dokja-ssi. Sparring against Heewon, I mean.”
And he’s probably lying, he barely managed to avoid any of her attacks, unused to how to wield a sword. Kim Dokja only had muscle memory to thank for any last minute dodging, really.
“I think you do a good job at being our shield, Hyungsung-ssi.” Kim Dokja turns to look at the man who now holds a flustered but happy expression. “Thank you for protecting all of us.”
While his head is turned to face Lee Hyungsung, he feels an intense gaze looking at him from a different direction.
—
“It should be around here somewhere– no more to your right, I think.”
They’re currently trying to find a secret piece for an upcoming scenario. It’s two pairs of fingerless gloves for Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosoung. He remembers reading a bit about it in Ways of Survival, though it was never really useful since Yoo Joonghyuk’s original party didn’t have any beast or bug tamers.
Being around Yoo Joonghyuk is casual, Kim Dokja finds.
It’s easy to talk to him despite how much it feels like talking to a brick wall sometimes. There’s something about the familiarity of it all, as if it’s just natural to talk to him. It’s an easy back and forth that never fails to make Kim Dokja smile. It’s like they’ve known each other for years, and maybe some of that is true because Kim Dokja has technically known him for over a decade.
Or maybe he’s a little bit addicted to everything about Yoo Joonghyuk.
For example, like now, Yoo Joonghyuk is in the middle of cutting vines with his sword and Kim Dokja can’t keep his eyes off him. Or specifically, Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms, because apparently Kim Dokja has a thing for arms now.
He’s letting Yoo Joonghyuk do all the work while he just puts his hands in his pockets and whistles a random tune.
‘You’re not gonna make me do the work, I’m technically still considered injured, you know, Joonghyuk-ie.’ Is what he had said in an overly dramatic tone. Yoo Joonghyuk just looked at him like he was crazy but still went to work. Haha.
The things I do… Kim Dokja had read from Yoo Joonghyuk, while Yoo Joonghyuk himself said, ‘I’m not doing all of the work.’
“If you think about it, you’re just doing the brunt work, I’m doing the brain part of the operation.”
Yoo Joonghyuk just clicked his tongue at that and swung his sword. And that makes Kim Dokja laugh. He didn’t even do anything and he laughed.
Is this how it would have been? He used to have daydreams about Yoo Joonghyuk, whether it be about Kim Dokja wanting to be Yoo Joonghyuk, or whether it be about Kim Dokja wanting to be with Yoo Joonghyuk. He thinks it was more like the first option, but he doesn’t really mind it being the second option too.
And wow, now that he thinks about it, how did he even manage to be one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s companions in the first place?
It’s puzzling, and Kim Dokja doesn’t know the answer.
—
Once again, Kim Dokja finds Yoo Joonghyuk standing in the kitchen. He’s conversing with Yoo Mia this time, however. Their voices are hushed, a secret between the both of them that Kim Dokja can’t quite hear.
It doesn’t matter how quiet they can keep their voices, because Kim Dokja can still effortlessly read his protagonist.
A whisper.
I don’t know Mia-yah.
She whispers again.
I don’t think he knows.
More whispers.
It’s okay, you don’t have to worry.
Another whisper.
I’m okay too.
Whisper, whisper.
He’ll remember, eventually.
Whisper.
He’ll know. I’ll tell him
Whisper.
Then I… I don’t know, Mia-yah.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking.]
Kim Dokja doesn’t want to read anymore. So he turns to leave.
—
Another night, like every night now, Kim Dokja sneaks his way into Yoo Joonghyuk’s room. Like always there’s an empty space for him to stake his claim.
He can tell Yoo Joonghyuk is awake, so instead of lying down on the bed, he sits up next to him instead. Yoo Joonghyuk is lying down, turned onto his side, facing Kim Dokja and looking up at him from underneath the blankets.
“Kim Dokja,” He simply says. Then he frowns.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks kind of silly like this, a bit childish. It’s endearing to Kim Dokja because he never knew that the regressor could be soft like this.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks up at him with a face that looks like he wants to say something. He’s unexpectedly very expressive, not like the nonchalant and stoic image Kim Dokja always read about. He has too many things he wants to say but he never says any of it.
What is it, Yoo Joonghyuk?
He doesn’t get a response back, because this time, Kim Dokja doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. He can’t read him.
Who is Yoo Joonghyuk? He doesn’t know. He really doesn’t know who he is.
Yoo Joonghyuk is real and he doesn’t know him anymore.
—
It’s only been about a week since he woke up that day in the hospital with his recent memories wiped. He hates it. He hates not knowing everything. Actually, he’s figured most things out by now; what regression this round takes place in, how old he actually is (thank goodness not 20 years into the future), and he’s learned about his relationships with his other companions. He doesn’t understand those relationships on a deep level, but he knows what they probably mean to him.
Still, Kim Dokja feels like he is forgetting something. He drags his foot on the dirt aimlessly where he’s sitting outside.
“Ta da, and now your tassel is gone!” he hears Lee Gilyoung say, “Hyung, did you see that!”
“WHATTT! Where did it go!?” Lee Jihye exclaims as she looks at her sword where she usually hangs it.
[Constellation ‘Demonic Judge of Fire’ gasps at the missing tassel.]
[Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ tugs his hair from the shocking disappearance!]
[Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ wonders where it could have gone.]
Lee Gilyoung was practicing ‘magic tricks’ in front of him, Shin Yoosoung, Lee Jihye, and Han Sooyoung.
He claps his hand at the show of Lee Gilyoung magically making Jihye’s tassel disappear. The trick is that Biyoo actually just snuck in and took the tassel while Lee Gilyoung’s audience were distracted with him doing a card trick.
“No seriously, where did it go?” Lee Jihye looks around confusedly, patting her jacket pockets.
“Okay,” Han Sooyoung says with amusement. “Now try stealing some of his coins.” She points at Kim Dokja.
“Think about it, Gilyoung, we can be rich. Do you know how much money he has?”
Lee Gilyoung puts his finger to his chin, as if actually thinking about it.
Suddenly worried, Kim Dokja sweats, “okay, maybe let's not do that.”
“Gilyoung! You can’t take from Ahjussi! What does he have left if not for his riches! We can’t make him go broke.”
Okay, ouch. He’s got plenty of other things, like his amazing personality, for one.
“Ba-at!”
Biyoo suddenly pops up, tassel in her small puffball hands. She starts flying to where Kim Dokja is sitting.
“Hey that’s my tassel!”
Lee Jihye gets up and lunges for it and attempts to grab it, but Biyoo flies away before she could get it back.
Promptly, this instead causes her to somehow accidentally punch Kim Dokja in the face. He isn’t really sure how, because all he feels is pain. It hurts like hell. He thinks maybe her punch managed to make his head knock back into something else. Probably that fuck ass wall.
“Oh my god.”
“Ahjussi!”
“Hyung!”
“Ba-aht!!”
“Are you okay?! I’m so sorry!”
He’s dizzy, he can’t register anything. Everything is spinning.
Kim Dokja tries to open his eyes, but it makes his head hurt so he just squeezes his eyes tightly. The light from the sun makes it worse, so he’s glad when it's suddenly blocked from something.
He opens his eyes again and squints. He manages to make out four and a half blob-like images in front of him.
“Is he dead?”
Ironically, Kim Dokja’s head actually feels a bit more clearer. It feels like suddenly remembering a dream that you’ve had a long time ago.
It’s clear, not fuzzy this time. Its presence is overbearing, the weight of everything is too much to handle all at once.
Maybe it’s better to not remember anything at all. Maybe he would rather forget everything instead.
Kim Dokja remembers everything.
He decides to not tell anyone.
—
Forgetting or remembering, it’s all kind of the same thing anyways, so it wouldn’t hurt to keep this as a secret, just one more thing to hide away.
Most of all, Kim Dokja just feels embarrassed about one thing in particular. But it’s about Yoo Joonghyuk, so it feels bigger than simply just one small thing.
Kim Dokja stops going into Yoo Joonghyuk’s room at night. And at first it’s extremely strange, because it’s something he hasn’t done in a long time, longer than even before he lost his memory. His feet just naturally take him to Yoo Joonghyuk, it seems.
It makes sense, given the nature of their relationship, really. Or what it used to be at least.
Kim Dokja has been contemplating it for a while, his mind thinking back to all of his thoughts that were swirling in his mind constantly.
I don’t know who Yoo Joonghyuk is.
Because did he really? Yes, no, maybe.
It’s better for Yoo Joonghyuk anyways, if Kim Dokja stays away from him.
How could he forget, he’s his protagonist, someone far away and out of reach. He’s gotten too close to him. He’s not his lover. He’s anything but.
Besides, during the whole time he’s lost his memory, Yoo Joonghyuk has clearly been trying to avoid him. Maybe, no longer burdened by the weight of Kim Dokja, he no longer felt the need to play a role. He didn’t want to be with Kim Dokja anymore and just didn’t know how to break it off. His talk with his sister is proof of that.
I don’t think he knows. He’ll know. I’ll tell him.
And that one time when he visited his room. It looked like Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to say something.
‘Kim Dokja.’
It’s the only logical conclusion he can come up with.
—
Yoo Joonghyuk looks visibly more grumpy in the mornings, more restless.
He glares at Kim Dokja when he thinks he isn’t looking. He’s like a sad wet dog wanting attention from its owner. It’s cuter than it should be.
Kim Dokja has also noticed Yoo Joonghyuk becoming more clingy lately. He’s not physically clingy, usually avoiding touching Kim Dokja, but he has been following him around lately.
And okay, he’s not following him around per se, more like he is just making his presence more noticeable.
Kim Dokja is sparring with someone from the company? Yoo Joonghyuk is conveniently there, polishing his own sword. Kim Dokja has to explore a new hidden scenario? Yoo Joonghyuk immediately offers to go with him, even when he doesn’t need the extra manpower. Kim Dokja is the last one to finish his food? Yoo Joonghyuk is there, washing the dishes, or cleaning a random spot that has no stain.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t say anything, he just kind of pouts. Kim Dokja finds it amusing.
One day, while Kim Dokja is doing nothing in particular, he finds Yoo Joonghyuk nearby, also not doing anything. He stares at him.
The look Yoo Joonghyuk gives him is terribly cute: eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned into what can only be called a pout. And Kim Dokja has never considered himself to be a very strong person in the first place.
So he relents.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” he says softly and gives Yoo Joonghyuk a head pat.
They both freeze and look at each other.
It was a slip of the tongue, really.
“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk raises his eyebrow.
“Ah, well. Uh– I gotta go now, haha,” he says before he sprints off in shame or embarrassment, he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s both.
Kim Dokja just runs.
“Kim Dokja!” He hears Yoo Joonghyuk’s furious yell, probably chasing him now.
Kim Dokja runs faster.
Eventually, though, he can’t run anymore, because he accidentally tumbles on something on the ground. Before he can catch his balance from his mistake, he senses Yoo Joonghyuk’s presence.
Yoo Joonghyuk catches him and promptly chokes him against the nearest surface available, which just so happens to be against a tree.
It’s actually kind of hot, but Kim Dokja can’t be thinking about these kinds of things right now. Focus Kim Dokja!
“You remember.” Yoo Joonghyuk accuses.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kim Dokja manages to choke out. He isn’t looking at Yoo Joonghyuk while he talks, avoiding his gaze that always begs for his attention.
“Kim Dokja.” He slightly lets go of the grip around his neck, allowing Kim Dokja to breathe properly.
“I really don’t.”
[Yoo Joonghyuk uses ‘Lie Detection’ on Kim Dokja]
Bastard.
[‘Lie Detection’ has proven Kim Dokja’s statement to be false!]
Kim Dokja clicks his tongue in annoyance. Why did he have to use that skill?
“Kim Dokja,”
“You really only have that word in your vocabulary don’t you? Don’t you know any other words?” Kim Dokja mocks him.
“Stop distracting me.”
“I’m not distracting you.”
“Kim Dokja–”
Kim Dokja lets out a laugh, this guy.
“This is important.” Yoo Joonghyuk says very seriously, but Kim Dokja can’t take him seriously.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking.]
Kim Dokja looks him in the eyes. Say it. Tell me it’s over. I can’t read you anymore. Just say it.
“Kim Dokja, you… I…” Yoo Joonghyuk breaks eye contact with him.
“You what?” Kim Dokja didn’t know he could fumble with his words like that.
“Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?” Kim Dokja says. Yoo Joonghyuk scowls at that.
“Kim Dokja,” he looks straight at him. “You are my companion.”
A pause.
“Through life and death,” Yoo Joonghyuk finishes.
“Huh.” That wasn’t what Kim Dokja was expecting. He feels the irregular beat of his heart start to settle.
Yoo Joonghyuk rolls his eyes and says through gritted teeth, “I love you, you fool.”
It’s the last thing Kim Dokja expects to hear. Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t know what he is saying. He doesn’t know what Yoo Joonghyuk is saying. Did he hear that right?
He really, really can’t understand Yoo Joonghyuk anymore.
“N–” No you don’t. Is what he was going to say.
[Yoo Joonghyuk uses ‘Lie Detection’ on himself.]
[His statement is confirmed to be true!]
“Do you not feel the same way anymore?” The way Yoo Joonghyuk asks this… it’s like something inside of Kim Dokja gets torn.
“What?” He asks breathlessly, because he can’t think. How could Kim Dokja ever stop loving him? This emotion he feels for this guy feels like an integral part of himself. He’s loved him for a long time. He doesn’t think there is a part of him that could ever think that he could not love him.
It consumes him really.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
Kim Dokja looks into Yoo Joongyuk’s eyes, they look sad, desperate, complicated. Kim Dokja doesn’t understand.
I love you, Yoo Joonghyuk’s whole being reads; its words are woven so delicately, hidden in between the lines.
“If you… want to end things, just say it to me,” Yoo Joonghyuk starts. Kim Dokja looks away from him. “Don’t make me keep guessing.”
I love you, Yoo Joonghyuk, it goes unsaid, because Kim Dokja doesn’t think he can speak. He doesn’t know if he can allow these words to be heard.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
His heart pounds harder, faster, its beats are irregular.
“I love you,” Yoo Joonghyuk says out loud.
But how can he?
I want to keep being with you. He means to say, but he can’t speak. He can’t speak.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks angry, or frustrated, or maybe it’s desperate. “Say something,” it’s let out as a whisper. “Say something.”
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
I am, I am.
Yoo Joonghyuk releases the grip of his fingers that he had wrapped gently around Kim Dokja’s neck. Despite it, Kim Dokja finds it harder to breathe.
Dejectedly, Yoo Joonghyuk takes a step back.
Don’t go.
He doesn’t understand him. He doesn’t know who Yoo Joonghyuk is anymore. He can’t read him as well as he used to.
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
[Personal Skill, ‘the Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
Yoo Joonghyuk turns around, painfully slow, no longer facing Kim Dokja. He starts walking away.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” it’s quiet.
Yoo Joonghyuk stops.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” he can barely feel himself saying it.
Yoo Joongyuk turns around. His fists are clenched together tightly.
“Joonghyuk-ah,” does he even say it out loud?
Yoo Joonghyuk looks back at him and Kim Dokja can breathe again.
He wants to know Yoo Joonghyuk, because he doesn’t know him as well as he thought. He looks at him in the eyes and says the words he’s been meaning to say this whole time, the only words that have been true from the very start,
“Joonghyuk-ah, I love you.”
It’s only four words. Maybe it’s enough.
—
“I remember now.”
“What!? Since when?” Han Sooyoung shoots up and looks at Kim Dokja, then her eyes drift to Yoo Joonghyuk. Then she looks down at their hands.
“Does your memory coming back have to do with why Yoo Joonghyuk is holding your hand?” Han Sooyoung asks in mock disgust.
Kim Dokja looks at Yoo Joonghyuk and smiles, eyes crinkling. Yoo Joonghyuk just stares back, as if in awe.
Kim Dokja squeezes his hand. Yoo Joonghyuk squeezes back.
“What!? You two actually got your shit together!?” She looks like she’s just discovered the world’s biggest secret. “No way.”
Kim Dokja gives a smirk at that.
“We’ve been together for a while actually.” It was his decision. ‘I want it to just be between us,’ he had said back then. Yoo Joonghyuk had just nodded his head and kissed him in response.
Losing his memories had made him forget about their relationship temporarily; and thinking about it now, it really is embarrassing how he kept sneaking into Yoo Joonghyuk’s room at night despite not remembering just what they were to each other.
Kim Dokja may have had complications on the way, but overall, he decided that he wants to be with Yoo Joonghyuk. He doesn’t need to understand him, doesn’t need to read his every movement and thoughts. Yoo Joonghyuk is just Yoo Joonghyuk.
He can’t help but look at Yoo Joonghyuk as he thinks this. He thinks he loves him, actually.
“What.” Yoo Joonghyuk says with his very large vocabulary catalogue. His Joonghyuk-ah just has such a way with words. Kim Dokja laughs inside his head.
“Nothing,” Kim Dokja smiles at him.
Yoo Joonghyuk furrows his eyebrows.
“You guys are actually disgusting, you know that?”
Kim Dokja just laughs.