Work Text:
[Hidden Scenario – New Year's Festival]
Category: Hidden
Difficulty: ???
Clear Conditions: Reenact chosen story by carrying out the pivotal plot points. Pick two representatives to act as the main characters. Maximum amount of side characters: 4.
Time Limit: 2 Hours
Compensation: SSS-Grade Item
Failure: ???
"Is anyone else seeing this?" Han Sooyoung asks, voice loud. She narrows her eyes at the hovering blue square in front of her. "Or have I gone insane?"
"Like you aren't insane already?" someone quips, making Han Sooyoung whip her head to the side. Jung Heewon averts her eyes away from the shorter girl and whistles an unfamiliar tune. Suspicious.
"New Year's Festival," Yoo Sangah cuts in, reading the title of the hidden scenario out loud, "Did everyone else get the hidden scenario too?"
"I think so," Kim Dokja answers. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, a slight frown playing on his lips. Ways of Survival never mentioned a scenario like this, but then again, there are lots of things omitted in the webnovel.
"Dokja hyung should be the main character," Lee Gilyoung says, "and I'll be the second one!"
Kim Dokja seems to consider it for a while. The scenario only allows six people to clear it at most, but the conditions are suspiciously vague, and knowing how the star stream and constellations usually are, the hidden scenario could possibly be something gruesome. Maybe something like World War Z, or an apathetic reenactment of another historical Korean war. Not for children.
His eyes turn into crescents, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth. "Maybe next time, Gilyoung-ah," he says, ruffling Lee Gilyoung's hair affectionately. He then turns to Han Sooyoung, Yoo Sangah, and Jung Heewon. Lee Hyunsung isn't in his line of sight, but they can fill him in on the scenario right after discussing. Yoo Joonghyuk… well, he's Yoo Joonghyuk. Kim Dokja has an inkling of a thought on where he's gone, but that's hardly any of his business. "Who wants to fill in the part of the main character?"
"Shouldn't you take it, Dokja-ssi?" Yoo Sangah questions.
Kim Dokja makes a face at that.
"You're our leader," Han Sooyoung gives her support. "And you're the best at clearing scenarios. I'd say you're more prepared and efficient than a handful of people combined."
She's not wrong, per se. Kim Dokja ponders on the thought for a short minute, and sighs.
"Okay," he concedes. "Who'll be the other main character?"
"Me."
[The Fourth Wall has offset some of your shock.]
Kim Dokja almost jumps at the new voice reaching his ears, low and deep that it jolted him more awake than he's ever been in all his years of living.
"Yoo Joonghyuk. Where did you just pop out from?" Kim Dokja asks, exasperated.
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn't answer his question, doesn't even let his gaze fall on Kim Dokja. That bastard.
"It's settled, then," Han Sooyoung says.
Kim Dokja whips his head to look at her. "Wait—me and him? Are we sure about this?" he fumbles.
Yoo Joonghyuk can undoubtedly clear a hundred hidden scenarios without breaking a sweat, but the hidden scenario this time around requires two main characters. Two. That means they'll have to actually cooperate to complete the scenario, lest they get the ominous punishment jotted down in the scenario conditions.
Yoo Joonghyuk is a man of many talents, but being cooperative isn't one of them, Kim Dokja laments. Even after clearing scenario after scenario with this little group of theirs, he still doesn't trust the other members of Kim Dokja's company enough to clear the scenario.
Kim Dokja's face pales slightly. Yoo Joonghyuk would rather jump off a bridge—or throw him down a bridge, much like how they first met—before cooperating with him in a civil, non-aggressive way.
"It'll be fine," Yoo Sangah says.
Will it?
Kim Dokja opens his mouth to say something, but Yoo Joonghyuk sends him a sharp glare. It's all he needs to do to shut the paler man up.
"Yeah. Fine. Okay," Kim Dokja breathes. "It'll be fine."
It, as a matter of fact, is not fine.
Kim Dokja buries his face in his palms.
Why the fuck was the scenario taken straight out of a cliché, unnamed shoujo manga of all things? And why is he the female lead while Yoo Joonghyuk's the male lead?
Han Sooyoung doesn't even try to contain her laughter.
"Cheer up, Dokja-ssi," Yoo Sangah sends him a thinly veiled pitying look. She tries to comfort him by saying, "At least you look…" She winces. "...nice."
"I would've died from embarrassment if I were you," Han Sooyoung snorts.
"I think you look amazing, Dokja-ssi!" Lee Hyunsung exclaims.
Jung Heewon merely looks away, pointedly avoiding locking gazes with Kim Dokja.
Everyone's in casual clothes. Everyone but Kim Dokja.
The scenario had forced on a traditional japanese yukata on him, black and white robes loosely clinging to his slender body. An obi is looped around his waist. It's a plain and simple outfit, really. It's nice, even, but the most embarrassing thing is how Yoo Joonghyuk, who's beside him, is donning a matching outfit to his and hasn't said a word.
A bunch of opaque blue tabs burst into existence in front of Kim Dokja. He stops a groan from leaving his mouth as he skims over the white texts shown.
[Notifications will be muted.]
Great. He can't even see how many coins Uriel is surrendering. His only motivation—gone just like that.
The other blue tabs are full of details for the scenario; the details of what they can and cannot do, what they have to do, the pivotal points in the story they have to reenact. Kim Dokja closes them all with a gruelling sigh, only lightly skimming over the lines he has to say.
[^_^]
He flicks away the last message, too, as a shudder runs down his spine. Ominous. Very, very ominous.
"Let's just get this over with," he grumbles, and starts pacing towards the bustling festival before them.
There are various stalls selling all kinds of Japanese food, their sellers and customers all faceless. It's filled almost to the brim with anonymous children and adults, all chatting the night away brightly even though none of the things they're saying translate into coherent, understandable words into Kim Dokja's ears. All he hears are a jumble of letters. Odd words easily forgotten and taken no notice of.
The rest of his nebula's members run in front of him, ecstatic and elated by the smells of delicious food wafted their way. Kim Dokja hurries to catch up with them, but almost falls backwards, shocked, when he feels something grab and tug on his hand.
"Are you illiterate? The scenario said that we have to hold hands," Yoo Joonghyuk tells him when Kim Dokja shoots him an incredulous look. Kim Dokja gapes a little, letting Yoo Joonghyuk pull him along through the faceless crowd of people.
This is going to be the longest two hours of his life, Kim Dokja laments.
Maybe he was being dramatic after all, Kim Dokja thinks.
In all honesty, the scenario feels like a small break from the exhausting apocalyptic novel-turned-apocalypse they've struggled in for ages. They can eat anything they want here, and everything's for free. Even Yoo Joonghyuk, who's usually averse to eating food that isn't promising-looking dumplings or made by his own hands, seems to be enjoying the snacks sold by the stalls here.
Delicious pieces of takoyaki laid on the plate he's holding, and he almost reluctantly chews the one he's shoved into his mouth. There's a calculating expression on his face, as if he's figuring out how he can recreate this or make an even better version. It makes Kim Dokja involuntarily laugh a little.
"The takoyaki's not going anywhere," he tells Yoo Joonghyuk, grinning. "You have to eat it quickly before it gets cold. Stop analyzing it and relax for once, Joonghyuk-ah," he says, and taps the crease between Yoo Joonghyuk's eyebrows, subconsciously, to smoothe them out.
He doesn't notice how Yoo Joonghyuk's gaze softens.
Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes roam over Kim Dokja's thin body. They linger on the exposed skin and collarbones peeking out slightly from the loose yukata's neckline.
He looks away. "You're too thin." He shoves a piece of takoyaki into Kim Dokja's mouth. The latter's eyes widen in response. "Eat," Yoo Joonghyuk commands.
Kim Dokja shoots him a weak glare; a pathetic attempt at cursing him out with his stare because as he chews on the takoyaki he's been given, he finds out it's unfairly delicious. All his complaints and prepared, witty remarks die on the tip of his tongue as he swallows the takoyaki. He shifts in place, and looks to his right, avoiding Yoo Joonghyuk's piercing eyes.
"...It's delicious," Kim Dokja woefully says.
He can hear the smug smile on Yoo Joonghyuk's face after he says those words.
"What are you so smug about, bastard?" he huffs. "It's not like you made the takoyaki."
An indignant hum is what Kim Dokja gets in response.
"There's more," Yoo Joonghyuk says.
"...Hand me another one."
Yoo Joonghyuk looks uncharacteristically happy to oblige with his demands.
("Oh God, I'm going to throw up," Han Sooyoung says, watching the two men from afar.
Yoo Sangah pats her shoulder, offering her a semblance of comfort in an odd sense of some kind of third-wheel camaraderie.)
The night is young. The moon is beautiful. Et cetera, et cetera.
All those cliché lines seem to, unfortunately, fit this long moment of theirs.
By the scenario's odd and incessant demands—shown by the increasing translucent pop-ups insisting on Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk holding hands all throughout the two hours they've been given—Kim Dokja's hands feel warmer than they've ever been before.
None of their hands are clammy with sweat, but it's warm. Kim Dokja was reluctant at first less because of how he'd feel uncomfortable and more because of how he thought Yoo Joonghyuk would abhor it. Imagine his surprise when Yoo Joonghyuk just upped and took his hand in his, and refused to let go whenever Kim Dokja asked about it.
It took a while—fifteen minutes, at most—for Kim Dokja to get used to the sensation. He's never held anyone's hand, except for maybe his mother's when he was excruciatingly young. The good memories of his childhood are practically gone already, buried into the very back of his mind.
"Kim Dokja." Yoo Joonghyuk's voice snaps him back to reality. "Are you uncomfortable with this?"
Kim Dokja tears his eyes away from their interlocked hands. Yoo Joonghyuk is undoubtedly asking about that, since he's been staring so long at it without uttering a single word.
There's a fire that burns along his fingers where their skin meets. The flame reaches his heart, and burns warmly. The warm hues from the festival's lights traverse across the planes of Kim Dokja's face, across the black and white robes he's wearing, and flickers along with each flutter of his lashes.
Kim Dokja gives a small squeeze to Yoo Joonghyuk's hand, and smiles. It's not his signature, mischievous grin. It's a bit more truthful, revealing a bit more of the Kim Dokja Yoo Joonghyuk does not know all that much about.
"No. It's fine," Kim Dokja says. The soft smile on his lips doesn't fade, but his gaze flickers to their fingers once more, then to the ground. "Thanks," he adds.
"Okay," Yoo Joonghyuk says, and sends a squeeze back. Kim Dokja's vague responses definitely warrant for an overflowing amount of curiosity, an overflowing amount of questions, but Yoo Joonghyuk doesn't pry.
"Yeah," Kim Dokja says, breathless, then repeats, "Okay."
Even as the blue tabs of the scenario inform them that they no longer need to hold hands, none of them make a move to let go.
Time Remaining:
29 Minutes
59 Seconds
Kim Dokja has been pulled away from the group by Han Sooyoung. She throws him a can of coke that she took from a vending machine. They're in front of the bathroom near the place where the festival's being held, and the rest of the group is a few feet away, careful not to bother the two of them.
"You know," Han Sooyoung begins, sitting right beside Kim Dokja on the bench. She cracks open her own can of coke, and takes one gulp of the fizzy drink. "You don't have to go through this if you really don't want to."
A momentary silence descends.
"...The penalty is unknown if we fail to clear this scenario," Kim Dokja responds after a pause, fiddling with the cold can in his hands.
A puff of air, falling just short of a laugh, leaves Han Sooyoung's mouth. She cranes her neck upwards and the corners of her lips curve slightly upwards as the fabricated night sky seems to greet her with the twinkle of four stars.
"This scenario probably doesn't have an extreme penalty," she says. "It's relatively easy. Not at all hard. Even if the penalty is harsh, we can deal with it just fine. Everyone in the company is strong."
"I know," Kim Dokja says softly.
"All that's left is to act out the last important scene," Han Sooyoung says.
"I know," he repeats.
The liquid in the can of coke in Kim Dokja's hands swivels with each movement of his fingers. The wind blows against his black hair softly, tender as though offering some kind of solace right before he goes on to reenact the last scene they need to complete the scenario.
"Kim Dokja," Han Sooyoung calls him. "Do you still want to go through with this?"
At that, Kim Dokja finally turns to look at her, and smiles. "I do," he answers. "I… don't want to keep on running away anymore. You know how I feel about that guy."
Han Sooyoung snickers, then playfully jabs Kim Dokja's side. It doesn't hurt at all, but it doesn't stop Kim Dokja from faking a wince to spite her.
"Finally," is all she says, with her signature grin. "Go get him, tiger."
Kim Dokja laughs, free and unbidden.
Just as the scenario has required of them, Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja have separated from the other members of their nebula. The festival is quite a distance away from them, the loud chatters dwindling and fading into a comfortable white noise as Kim Dokja props his elbow above a metal railing. He's leaning into the cool air blowing against his whole body, the crumpled fabric of his yukata swaying slightly.
Beside him, Yoo Joonghyuk has his arms crossed.
"How long until new years?" Kim Dokja asks.
Yoo Joonghyuk stares at the light blue panel that's appeared before him. He doesn't have to answer, however, as the crowd around the stalls in the festival have begun chanting a countdown.
Ten.
A lone firework rolls up against the canopy of dark blue. It leaves something like a trail of stars as it rises.
Nine.
The firework bursts—blooms into a plethora of colors: whites, reds, everything beautiful.
Eight.
More firework rockets are launched into the sky, the crowd getting louder as each second passes.
Seven.
Yoo Joonghyuk has turned to look at Kim Dokja, and only Kim Dokja. The fireworks color his face with many colors, all bright and increasingly beautiful.
Six.
Someone's heart is racing. Between the two of them, it's hard to guess who the drumming pulse belongs to.
Five.
Kim Dokja ducks his head, lamenting slightly on what he's about to and supposed to do.
Four.
"Yoo Joonghyuk."
Three.
"I..."
Two.
He raises his head to look at Yoo Joonghyuk and is immediately taken aback when he sees that Yoo Joonghyuk is already staring back at him, right into his eyes, as though they're more enchanting than the fireworks getting set off.
"I—"
The two other words Kim Dokja needs to say, like you, are teetering on the tip of his tongue.
One.
He inhales.
Zero.
"—can't do this. Shit. I can't do this, I'm sorry," he dips his head in shame. Kim Dokja turns his head again, this time to look away from Yoo Joonghyuk. "Just—" he lets out a shaky breath and slouches slightly against the metal railing before him. "—hold on. I'm not ready."
The fireworks are still going off.
"That's not right."
Kim Dokja whips his head to look at him to cuss at him, maybe mock him slightly too, but all his words die in his throat when he sees how the colorful lights from the fireworks splash hues of colors across Yoo Joonghyuk's profile.
God damn protagonist.
A red flush rides up Kim Dokja's neck, but oddly enough, he can't seem to find it in himself to look away.
"Sorry we can't all be as prepared and perfect as you, Yoo Joonghyuk," he hides how he's flustered behind joking words; witty conjectures. Kim Dokja huffs, then finally finds it in himself to tear his gaze away from Yoo Joonghyuk. "Just give me a minute or two," he grumbles. "I need to prepare myself."
"No."
Kim Dokja flinches.
"What?"
"I said no."
Yoo Joonghyuk is adamant, it seems, on just responding to Kim Dokja with a hard no.
Irritated, Kim Dokja turns his head again, insults ready and at hand, but they're stopped by a pair of lips crashing against his own. The feel of warm, smooth lips against his own, chapped and shivering slightly from the cold breeze, is odd to say the least. Yoo Joonghyuk pulls away far too quickly for his liking.
A firework, the largest that night, starts rising up the sky.
"I like you," Yoo Joonghyuk says, and the lone firework explodes into a plethora of colors. Kim Dokja gapes at him, speechless. "That's what you're supposed to say, Kim Dokja."
Kjm Dokja is a fumbling red mess. If he hadn't known Yoo Joonghyuk any better, he'd think that his flat, unchanging face stayed—well, flat. No change of expression. But there's the smallest lilt in the corners of his lips, and a shine that's in his eyes that wasn't there before.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks smug.
"You—" Kim Dokja starts, only to be silenced as he trips over his own words when familiar rough hands loop around his waist, causing the fabric of his yukata to crumple even more under the rough calluses on scarred hands.
"What?" Yoo Joonghyuk asks, like he doesn't know what he just did.
Kim Dokja huffs and, just because he can, winds his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk's neck. The fireworks aren't over just yet. They're scheduled to go on for a few more minutes, but he can barely hear them over his heart drumming loud in his ears. The echo is deafening, but he can vaguely hear Yoo Joonghyuk's own heart beating the same rhythm, to the same song, in tandem with his own.
"Damn protagonist," Kim Dokja murmurs under his breath, but cranes his neck upwards regardless in invitation.
Yoo Joonghyuk leans down and angles his head slightly to the side. When their lips are just a breath away, he murmurs, "Say your line."
Kim Dokja feels like whacking his head.
"I like you," he says begrudgingly, the words a whisper in the small gap between their mouths. The confession is almost lost, muffled by the incessant sounds of the bustling festival.
The hold around Kim Dokja's waist tightens just a tad bit, but it's enough to make his heart skip a beat unhealthily. Yoo Joonghyuk's breath ghosts across his lips, and Kim Dokja finds himself closing his eyes shut.
Overhead, a firework blooms, and Kim Dokja's lips are captured by Yoo Joonghyuk's own.