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Kim Dokja sighs and stares up at the sky, gazing at the twinkling stars. In this world there were a lot less than he was used to, but that only made the remaining ones brighter. Too bad the best view of all was a night sky that could be appreciated not for the stars it held, but simply for existing in itself. All those sparkling stars would be gone sooner or later.
Up to this point, he hasn’t had time to properly just sit and rest his body and mind. With suddenly being thrown into the 95th scenario, almost being killed by Yoo Joonghyuk again, seeing all the people who were so similar yet different to the companions he was familiar with, and meeting up with Han Sooyung, there had been no time to slow down.
Now, while he still had to worry about the requirement of Secretive Plotter’s covenant as well as what to do with Yoo Joonghyuk, he wasn’t actively in danger of dying. In that sense, anyone would feel relieved.
Still, he didn’t know what to do with that guy…
He glances over to Yoo Joonghyuk, who had been quietly standing a little ways away with a dumb look on his face. Kim Dokja feels a little bad seeing him stuck in such a deep state of regressor’s depression to where it made him like this, but at the same time, he’s already felt what it was like to die by Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand before and would really prefer not to feel that again, if possible. He has no doubt that as soon as Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind cleared he’d go straight for his neck.
Still though, did he really have to stand so stiffly over there like that? On such a chilly night, too. Wasn’t he cold?
Sighing, Kim Dokja pats the spot next to him. “Stop standing there like that, you’re almost making me feel bad. Here, come sit down by the fire.”
Upon hearing the request, Yoo Joonghyuk obediently sits next to him. He does it stiffly, as if the action is unnatural and he isn’t used to just sitting around like this.
It made sense. This was the Yoo Joonghyuk of the 1863rd round. He had completely forgotten the concept of “leisure” long ago.
Kim Dokja frowns. He’s thought it a lot of times, but seeing him like this now, all he can think is of what a hard life this man has had. It was one thing for him to be a character in a book and to read about his struggles and perseverance, but to see him in the flesh as a real person and interact with him…
Yoo Joonghyuk never asked to be the protagonist. He never wanted to have this kind of life.
Really, poor guy…
“Relax a little, you don’t have to be so tense,” Kim Dokja quietly says, bumping his stiff shoulder. “You can let down your guard here. As long as you won’t bite, I won’t, either. You said yourself that we’re companions.”
Yoo Joonghyuk stares at him with hazy eyes. Slowly, his spine goes a little less straight, the tenseness of his furrowed brows retreating. He looks almost calm, but even after receiving a direct order, it seemed it was still impossible for him to be able to fully relax himself.
It was really too tragic. Frowning even further, Kim Dokja fully turns to face him. Their knees bump together but he doesn’t mind as he examines the face so similar yet different to the one he was familiar with.
His handsome features seem even sharper, and even though his physique itself is larger from years of intense training, looking at his face, it almost seems as if he isn’t eating properly. Scars mar his otherwise perfect features with an especially painful-looking one spanning across one of his eyes.
Looking at the man before him, Kim Dokja wants to ask what happened? but that would just be redundant. He knows what happened. He had been there, had read along as Yoo Joonghyuk had suffered through so many battles, had gotten so many scars.
Just like his face, his heart had been chipped away at just as ferociously— no, probably even more so. It was so covered in scars that by this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if it was completely made of scar tissue with no healthy parts remaining after so many years of damage and heartache and suffering.
When was the last time this Yoo Joonghyuk had smiled? It must have been hundreds of regressions ago. If not hundreds, then a thousand.
Even after Kim Dokja had told him to relax, despite being under a control that has him completely subservient and following his every order, he still has a faint frown on his lips. Suddenly wanting to see him with a happier expression, Kim Dokja reaches out and uses two fingers to pull upwards at the corners of his lips.
…The result is a little ridiculous. Yoo Joonghyuk blankly stares at him as Kim Dokja plays with his face, pulling this way and that to try and recreate a convincing smile before giving up and instead squishing at his cheeks.
“Stupid sunfish, you don’t always have to look so gloomy,” he says as he pushes his cheeks together so much that his lips purse into an expression actually kind of resembling a fish. He can’t help but laugh a little.
He could never do this to his Yoo Joonghyuk and certainly wouldn’t have been able to do it to this edgelord one of the 1863rd round under normal circumstances, but now that he can without the threat of imminent death, he figures he might as well have some fun while he can.
Revenge! This is what you get for being such a stupid sunfish jerk!
Kim Dokja continues quietly chuckling to himself as he squeezes Yoo Joonghyuk’s cheeks and pokes and prods at them. Being so close to his face only brings more attention to the countless scars marring it though, and while he’d been laughing, he finds his laughter slowly dying off.
Really, this guy has been through so much. Kim Dokja really shouldn’t be messing with him like this.
Slowly and a little regretfully, he finally lowers his hands from Yoo Joonghyuk’s cheeks that had become slightly reddened from the teasing.
Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t shown much reaction throughout the ordeal and shows just as little reaction when Kim Dokja pulls away. Sighing, Kim Dokja stares at the fire for a while as he thinks back to his own Yoo Joonghyuk.
That Yoo Joonghyuk was only on his third regression and hadn’t experienced even a sliver of what this one had, hadn’t had to suffer as much. Hopefully back home he was still doing well.
At least for that Yoo Joonghyuk, he could still fight for the future he wanted. Nothing was set in stone, and even if it was, Kim Dokja would find him some way to get a pickaxe so they could carve over it together and write a new story.
For this Yoo Joonghyuk of the 1863rd round, there was no rewriting anything. He couldn’t just erase his memory of all the previous rounds, nor could he erase the suffering. Even now, though Kim Dokja was purposefully using it to his advantage, he was suffering from a bout of regressor’s depression so debilitating he was trapped within the confines of his own mind.
At least he was trapped in good memories. At the very least, while he was like this, it would feel like he was in a very long, very good dream.
Kim Dokja gazes at the Yoo Joonghyuk in front of him for a long time. Eventually, without fully realizing what he’s doing, he reaches out and pulls him into a hug.
When was the last time he had gotten one? It must have been a while. At first, Yoo Joonghyuk is limp in his grip, not seeming to react at all. Eventually though, although it might just be Kim Dokja’s imagination, he seems to relax a little. Just a little.
His back is warm and sturdy under Kim Dokja’s fingertips and he smells a little like blood and something musky. He’s undeniably Yoo Joonghyuk. As Kim Dokja holds him, all he can think is this.
The Yoo Joonghyuk who had kept him alive during the worst times of his life, the Yoo Joonghyuk who had put a smile on his face when he wanted to cry, the Yoo Joonghyuk he had been following the life of for the past ten years.
If not for Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja wouldn’t be sitting here right now. In his worst moments, Yoo Joonghyuk had been the one to save him.
Now that Yoo Joonghyuk needed help, Kim Dokja would be the one to save him. As he thinks about Secretive Plotter’s condition and then thinks about how easy it would be to fulfill it with Yoo Joonghyuk in such a state, he can’t find it in himself to do something like that.
He would find another way. He had to.
Without even realizing it, at some point he had begun carding his fingers throughout Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair as he continues to hold him, gently pulling apart the few knots he finds. His hair really was soft in the way only a protagonist’s could be after how many things he did that would leave anyone else’s a tangled mess. Stupid protagonist genes.
“I’ll figure something out. You won’t have to die,” Kim Dokja murmurs. Ever since the scenarios have started, he’s always been able to bullshit his way through them. This should be no different.
The fire crackles and pops in the otherwise silent night as Kim Dokja continues to hold Yoo Joonghyuk and stroke his soft hair.
Eventually, despite Kim Dokja not ordering him to, Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly lowers his head and rests it on Kim Dokja’s shoulder. Kim Dokja stills his movements a little, surprised that Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem to be completely hating this. He supposes that to even the most cold blooded people, a hug could warm them up.
His surprise grows even further when, after a while of not moving, Yoo Joonghyuk just barely raises his head. It bumps against Kim Dokja’s open palm, and when Kim Dokja realizes his intention, he can’t help but laugh a little as he goes to pat his head.
The Yoo Joonghyuk he knew would probably die before admitting he was enjoying this, but in a state like this, Yoo Joonghyuk’s mental defenses had been worn down.
Time passes slowly. In the chilly night, it’s comfortable like this, holding on to the warm, steady weight of Yoo Joonghyuk in front of the cackling fire. For the first time in a while, he feels truly at peace as he gazes at the twirling reds and oranges of the flames.
After a while, Yoo Joonghyuk’s quiet breathing steadies out until it’s completely even. Though Kim Dokja can’t see his face from where he is, he can feel from the gentle rise and fall of his back that he’d fallen asleep.
Though by now he should probably let him go, he knows another chance like this wasn’t very likely to happen, and so he continues holding Yoo Joonghyuk. He was such a strong person and seemed unbreakable to others, a foe that couldn’t be defeated, a monster without fear, but in reality, he was none of these things.
Even people like Yoo Joonghyuk needed to be held sometimes. Especially people like Yoo Joonghyuk. Thinking this, Kim Dokja holds him a little tighter as he closes his eyes and continues to gently run a hand through his soft hair.
For a little longer, he wanted to stay like this.