Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Well? What did you get?”

“Tch—22nd place. You got 24th, so I beat you. That’s all that matters.”

“Your mom is going to beat you.”

“You’re in the same boat!”

“Hey look! Yoo Joonghyuk got first place again!”

“Second time in a row since he came here, no?”

“Mhm. Looks like Kim Dokja got second place.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze went from the papers stuck on the wall to the pair of eyes that stared at him.

Kim Dokja, his classmate. Second place.

His eyes were cold and empty and his straight-lined lip twitched. Yoo Joonghyuk could only imagine what Kim Dokja was thinking. And in a second, it was all replaced with a soft smile when a classmate walked up to him. He seemed sociable now.

But that was none of his concern.

Yoo Joonghyuk made it past the sea of his classmates that congested the hallway and entered his classroom. Surprisingly, no one had come in yet. However, everyone was checking out their ranking on the last test. It wasn’t interesting enough to linger over, was it?

He merely shrugged it off and took his seat. Third seat from the back, right next to the window. He put his bag down and pulled out his phone.

‘The sun is bright today…’

Despite the chill of the winter morning, the sweet apricity of the sun peaked through, bathing the classroom in light. It was inconvenient being right next to the window, but in time the light will shift. Hopefully, it was before class started.

Nonetheless, he opened his phone and turned it to the side. His game finally loaded and he started tapping away.

It didn’t take too long for Kim Dokja to trickle into the room. Just when he was starting to unwind he came in. Perfect.

He didn’t pay him any mind until he felt his stare on him, just like before. He didn’t want to acknowledge him. In due time he stopped and sat down.

Yoo Joonghyuk was grateful for the teacher. Sitting him across the room was the best thing that’s happened to him since he moved here.

Pages started flipping, causing him to secretly avert his gaze. Kim Dokja had pulled out the textbook for their first class and silently read.

‘Exams are over, what is he studying?’

His gaze lingered on the hunched-over Kim Dokja before returning to his game.

Yoo Joonghyuk was grateful lunch was finally here. Their last teacher’s lecture was boring and felt longer than it normally was. Other students yawned after the teacher left the room. Some had gotten up immediately to leave for lunch after the teacher shut the door behind them.

Kim Dokja of course, was still at his desk, looking over his notebook. He had a few highlighters and two colored pens, swapping out his utensils every now and then as he annotated the pages.

Some students lingered in the classroom, talking but occasionally glancing over Kim Dokja’s shoulder. Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his bag and left for lunch. Before he had reached the door to leave he could hear their classmates talking.

“Dokja~ can I copy your notes? The lecture was just so boring, I pretty much fell asleep!”

“Can we borrow your notes too?”

“Same here. I really couldn’t follow the lecture.”

Yoo Joonghyuk knew they were bullshitting. He could pretty much see everything from his seat. A few students on their phones didn’t escape his eye.

But what did he care?

Yet, he hadn’t opened the door to leave.

“You guys can take a picture of my notes to copy if you want.” Kim Dokja replied, opening his notebook to the first page of his new set of notes. The students immediately took out their phones and mumbled thank yous before snapping photos.

Yoo Joonghyuk clicked his tongue and left the room, his classmates following suit soon after. It wasn’t his business, so he merely went to the school rooftop for lunch. No one to bother him there. And that he was right. It was desolate and warm up there. Only a gentle breeze cooled him down every now and then.

He took his seat against the wall of the rooftop entrance. Just on the far side, away from the actual door. It was just him, his lunch, and his phone.

‘I'll adjust the seasoning next time.’ He thought as he chewed on a piece of fried chicken. He was content but not quite satisfied with his cooking skills. There was always room for improvement, even if his family was overjoyed by his skills.

‘I should buy snacks for Mia on the way home—‘

Suddenly the door opened and closed, footsteps drifting away to the other side of the roof. Out of curiosity, Yoo Joonghyuk leaned forward to catch a glimpse of who it was.

His black-haired classmate who was on the shorter side, for their class at least, was leaning against the railing of the roof. He couldn’t see his face.

‘Tch, who cares.’

And then he went back to his food and phone, scrolling aimlessly as he ate. Before long, Kim Dokja left the rooftop and he followed soon after for class.

His keys dropped straight into the dirt. Before he even had a chance to pick it up, a white ball of fluff flashed past his feet and suddenly his keys were gone with a jingle.

“Hey!” He called to the cat.

The cat merely sat there with his keys in her mouth. Yoo Joonghyuk took a step forward and it took a step back. “Give me my keys back.”

The cat backed away and he got closer. Before he could rush at the cat, it sped off with his keys. Gripping the plastic bag from the convenience store in his right hand, he ran after it.

“Tch, out of all places?” He muttered as he looked past the half-rusted metal fence. An unofficial junkyard. A large one at that.

He sighed and crouched down to get through the shabby hole in the fence. He walked and walked, taking in his surroundings as he walked.

It didn’t really stink, but it didn’t smell good either. He was more surprised that it was more space than junk. The piles of debris seemed to start at the fence and piled inwards.

He saw the cat making its way on the path in front of him before taking a left. He grits his teeth and runs after it. Smoke wafted in the air to his dismay.

“What are these, Biyoo?” A familiar voice asked softly.

Kim Dokja sat on an old lawn chair in front of a pile of trinkets. He was leaned back, the first button of his shirt undone, and his tie pulled forward. His jacket rested on the back of his chair.

What caught his eye was the smoking cigarette between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. His right petted the white cat on his lap.

Kim Dokja pulled the keys from the cat’s mouth. “These aren’t from around here—“

“Those are mine.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, startling Kim Dokja.

Kim Dokja sat up immediately, causing the cat to jump out of his lap.

“Huh?”

Chapter Text

“Huh?”

Kim Dokja looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk. His cigarette wavered dangerously between his fingers before he fumbled to hold it between his fingers like a pencil. His eyes were slightly wide like he was almost surprised to find someone else here.

He pushed the hot, decaying side of the cigarette into his palm, snuffing it out. Yoo Joonghyuk winced at the sight, his eye cringing. To his surprise, Kim Dokja didn’t make a face or wince.

He threw the cigarette bud into a half-full tin can next to the chair. From what he could tell, it wasn’t his first time smoking. Far from it.

“Yoo Joonghyuk…,” he said as he got up. Kim Dokja’s face resembled a model student. A friendly smile and all. His bodily gestures were subtly formal while being casual. The kind of smart kid parents want their kids around.

Yet, his eyes were empty. It drew him in and started to consume him. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help be shift where he stood and avert his eyes.

“Mm?” He replied.

“What brings you to a place like this?” He asked. The shorter male’s voice was playful. Not too friendly, not too monotone.

“My keys…you’re holding them…”

Kim Dokja looked at the pair of keys in his hands. “Oh, these are yours? I guess Biyoo must’ve stolen them from you.”

“Biyoo?”

“The cat.” Kim Dokja nodded his head towards the white cat that was grooming itself to the left of him.

“Your cat’s name is Biyoo?” Yoo Joonghyuk found it odd—a cat’s name being Biyoo. Though, he never really had a pet of his own to name. Who was he to judge?

“Biyoo isn’t mine. She’s more of a stray that lingers around me because I feed her.” He knelt next to Biyoo and petted her with a smile.

“I see.” Kim Dokja picked up the cat and plopped her into his lap. He didn’t let up on the petting. Instead, Biyoo rubbed her face into his palm, reciprocating his affection.

“Wanna try petting her?” He asked. His eyes were more humane than before. Kim Dokja’s smile was soft and inviting.

“It’s fine—“

“You sure?”

Yoo Joonghyuk thought for a second before inevitably crumbling to pet the cat. Biyoo hissed as soon as she saw Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand approaching, surprising the both of them.

“Woah—“ Kim Dokja immediately showered Biyoo with more pets in hopes of calming down the cat. “Sorry, I guess she doesn’t like pets from strangers.”

“It’s fine.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “My keys?”

Kim Dokja’s wide smile reduced into a plain one. “Right, sorry. Here you go.” He held up the bundle of keys and dropped them in Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand.

“Thank you.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, shuffling through the keys with his thumb before putting it back into his pocket. He was about to turn to leave.

‘I should leave, but…’

He looked down at Kim Dokja. “What is this place exactly?”

Kim Dokja directed his attention to Yoo Joonghyuk. He didn’t answer right away. His face had turned into a blank slate. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“An unofficial dump. This is the more ‘ghetto’ neighborhood…there’s a lot of illegal dumping from this area and even the middle-class area is just a couple of streets away. City doesn’t care. People dump belongings here. Big or small—when it no longer has a use, it ends up here.”

“I see.” Yoo Joonghyuk pondered for a second. “So why are you here?”

Kim Dokja fell silent again. His face changed to a more positive expression. Almost like he flipped a switch, becoming confident and charismatic. “Because people dump things but don’t linger. I guess it’s my hang-out spot. So do me a favor and don’t tell anyone.”

“Sure. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

“Thank you, Joonghyuk.”

He checked his watch. “Sorry, I need to be home soon. I’ll take my leave.”

“That’s fine. Goodbye.”

“See you later.” Yoo Joonghyuk waved him goodbye and left. He left the junkyard and walked a bit.

“My clothes…” he mumbled. He was around a ton of junk—and a smoker. He pinched his button-up and brought it close to his nose, inhaling. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed at the fact his clothes didn’t stink. It was faint but entirely unnoticeable unless someone got too close. The scent of the cigarette lingered. Surprisingly, he didn’t hate it, unlike any other time he had to breathe in second-hand smoke.

After a short walk, Yoo Joonghyuk finally made it home. It was a nice three-bedroom and two-bath home with a small backyard. A big upgrade from his family’s last place.

“Oppa, you’re home!” A tiny child shouted as soon as Yoo Joonghyuk entered the foyer. He quickly slipped off his shoes and placed them to the side.

“I’m home, Mia. I brought snacks.” He held up the white plastic bag of goodies and shook it as if they were dog treats. She lit up and ran up to him. He looked around their half-empty house.

“Where’s mom?”

“She said she had work and she’ll be back later.” Yoo Mia grabbed the bag of snacks from his hand and walked away. Yoo Joonghyuk trailed behind her.

‘And left Mia home without supervision….’

“I see. I guess I’m cooking dinner tonight.” Yoo Joonghyuk took off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch before rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up. Yoo Mia was too preoccupied with the bag of snacks to care.

“What do you want for dinner, Mia.” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“I don’t know.”

‘I don’t know. That helps a lot…’

He opted to check what they had in the fridge. Unsurprisingly, nothing. He sighed in defeat before rummaging through the little things left in the fridge.

‘I should’ve gone to the grocery store…’

He checked the carton of eggs for the expiration date, thankfully they were still good. After a couple of minutes, he scrapped up everything he could.

“Gimbap for dinner, Mia.” He said as he put on his apron, tying a neat bow in the back. Again, she didn’t hear him. Nonetheless, he still got to work.

“There’s little color…?” Yoo Mia pointed at the plated gimbap. She wasn’t wrong. It was filled with eggs, carrots, and cucumbers. It could’ve been worse, but it definitely wasn’t how he normally prepared it. It was mediocre to anything he’s made before. Pathetic.

“Sorry, I forgot to go to the store, please bear with it. If you don’t like it…just eat the chips I bought. Okay?” He tried to give her a reassuring smile. Tried. He wasn’t the best at reassurance or smiles, much less trying to combine the two to make someone feel better.

Yoo Mia knew that.

“N-no it’s okay Oppa I’ll eat it! See!” She ate a piece whole, chewing it vigorously before swallowing. She reached for another.

“Eat slowly, it’s not going anywhere.” Yoo Joonghyuk patted her head. Yoo Mia nodded before continuing to devour the plate of gimbap.

“I’m full,” she whined. Yoo Joonghyuk softly smiled, ruffling her hair.

“Good. Go take a bath and I’ll help you settle into bed, okay?”

She immediately went upstairs, leaving Yoo Joonghyuk with four bites of gimbap. His stomach growled like he was starving for three days.

He got up and went to the pantry cabinet, pulling out a cheap bowl of instant ramen. He cringed. It was a spicy one, something his mom would prefer.

It was the last one, so he sucked it up and made it, forcing the noodles down his throat with water, using the gimbap as a spice control.

And then he was face down on the table, defeated. “I really need to go grocery shopping,” he groaned, feeling his stomach burn up.

“Oppa I’m ready!” Yoo Mia had run down half the stairs to get him.

“Coming.” He got up and walked upstairs, picking up Yoo Mia before heading to her room. She giggled endlessly, even when Yoo Joonghyuk tucked her in she was laughing.

He had turned to leave but had stopped in his tracks. “When are mama and papa coming home?” Yoo Mia asked innocently.

‘I wish I knew.’

“Probably in the morning. So you should go to sleep so you can greet them tomorrow.”

That was enough to make Yoo Mia roll to the other side of the bed and doze off. He left the room, turning off the lights and shutting the door quietly. He retreated to the shower and eventually his bedroom.

Yoo Joonghyuk tosses and turns for a while before checking his clock.

‘Past midnight…’

Almost on cue, he heard the front door open and close. His parents. A few murmurs followed with laughter. The stairs creaked and everything went silent again when their bedroom door closed. Yoo Joonghyuk turned on his side.

Again.

And again.

At some point, his mind drifted to school. His ranking on the recent exam, his classmates, the lecture, the notes….Kim Dokja.

Kim Dokja, notes, stupid, weird, annoying, pushover, cat lover, smoker.

“An idiot…”

And then he stopped tossing and turning.

Chapter Text

“Thank you for the notes, Dokja. You’re the best!”

“Yeah, no problem.” Kim Dokja gave them a faint smile before turning back to his work. His pencil started moving and that was that.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t get it. Not one bit. It was obvious that their peers used Kim Dokja, all because he was smart, naive too maybe. That probably wasn’t it, something about him always feels cold and calculating no matter how humanly he presents himself.

It wasn’t just that. It was absolutely fucking useless for him to share his notes. The lower ranking students always took pictures of his notes and copied them down, never studying them, and effectively bombing their exam. Yet, Kim Dokja never asked why they wanted the notes in the first place.

God did that man tick him off. And everyone comparing them just added fuel to the fire. The who is smarter debates seemed to be never-ending, peaking during exams.

“Dokja, why are you studying so much? You effortlessly score high on the exams…,” a girl came and pouted. One of the girls gossiped and stuck herself into different situations to try and cure her boredom.

“I’m really not that smart…but I want to do my best and hopefully reclaim first place,” he said, not looking up from his notebook. There was something smug about his words.

‘That asshole.’

His classmates started to chatter amongst themselves. This time Kim Dokja had thrown wood into the fire himself.

“Joonghyuk, what do you think about that?” Another one of his classmates asked. He didn’t give a shit. All he had to do was study, take care of the house and Mia, and graduate and leave this goddamn—

“I’d like to see him try and get first place,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. His pride outweighed any of his fucks to give. Natural competitive nature. Besides, telling them he didn’t care for that stuff would make him seem like a wuss of sorts. Someone who wasn’t qualified to compete.

And suddenly any tension that had built up between the two had solidified. Kim Dokja, rival, and enemy to be beaten. Yoo Joonghyuk would sure beat him. Make him eat defeat.

Thus, tension in the classroom reached a new high. Students seemed to divide into two factions, of course, the subject matter being which smart they should follow. Kim Dokja, the diligent and approachable, also former first place, or Yoo Joonghyuk, the current first place had a resting bitch face and a matching personality.

Surprisingly it was split nearly equally, 49% of the class sided with Kim Dokja, and the other 51% sided with Yoo Joonghyuk. The teacher didn’t seem to care all that much either, it was just a new topic of gossip to share with their colleagues during their lunch break.

One week passed. Two more until exams. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk paused close attention to their teachers’ lectures, compiling easy and digestible focused notes. To their classmates' surprise, Yoo Joonghyuk had neater handwriting despite his fast pace. Almost looked like each page was printed up.

Kim Dokja’s…wasn’t particularly bad. It was average, legible at least. Something about each line and shape of the letter suggested a shaky hand. But then again, what did Yoo Joonghyuk care? That was a win for him.

Physical education, dodgeball. Kim Dokja’s team versus Yoo Joonghyuk’s. Yoo Joonghyuk won. Another win for him.

Chemistry lab. Yoo Joonghyuk versus Kim Dokja. Their partners didn’t do much work and didn’t care much to do so. Kim Dokja completed his titration perfectly first. A win for Kim Dokja, a loss for him.

Art class, portraits, Kim Dokja’s partner sat quietly as he worked. Yoo Joonghyuk’s yapped with their friend beside them, effectively pissing him off. When it came time to present, Kim Dokja’s portrait was clearly more defined when it came to line thickness and shading. Another win for Kim Dokja, another loss for Yoo Joonghyuk.

Another week went by. One more week until exams. Class after class it seemed like they’d compete for something small and meaningless. For fuck sake at one point Yoo Joonghyuk was timing their errand runs, though Yoo Joonghyuk won that by two seconds.

They didn’t let up. Not once. That was until Kim Dokja stopped coming to class on Wednesday.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, no Kim Dokja. Not once. He was already missing out on a lot of material on Wednesday. Each day missed put him farther and farther behind. It’s not like Yoo Joonghyuk minded. Didn’t care one bit. That meant he would be unprepared for the exams to come, hence an inevitable win for him.

No, that didn’t feel right. It would be a cheap win. A stupid default win because someone didn’t show up to class. If he’s going to win, he would rather it be a challenge. A fair win. Something that’ll really get under Kim Dokja’s skin.

“Tch…” Yoo Joonghyuk gripped the plastic bags tighter than before, nails digging into his palm. He kept walking and walking. He finally had proper groceries to make a decent dinner and he was gonna go all out.

That was until he approached a familiar busted-up and rusted fence. He was on his way home. Stuff to do, and people to take care of, yet, it didn’t seem to matter at the moment.

Yoo Joonghyuk ended up slipping through the hole in the fence once again, mindful of the plastic bags to not rip them.

And there he was, the fucking bastard that was always on his mind. Laid back and puffing out a cloud of smoke lazily. He accidentally stepped on broken glass, the loud crunch under his foot alerting Kim Dokja. His head turned to look at him. His eyes widened when they landed on Yoo Joonghyuk.

“J-Joonghyuk, what are you doing here?” He asked with a friendly and inviting voice, trying to mask the surprise he was feeling.

“I felt like I’d find you here. You haven’t been in class for a few days, but it’s nice to know you were just skipping—didn’t know you were lazy like that.” Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to egg him on. It was like Kim Dokja was taking him as a joke, declaring him as a rival then not taking his studies seriously at all.

“I’m not lazy I just—“ he cut himself off, calming himself down before speaking. “I just had some issues is all…”

“Clearly,” Yoo Joonghyuk said bluntly. It was obvious that Kim Dokja had smoked a few cigs today alone.

Kim Dokja rolled his eyes and his stomach growled. It was one thing for a person’s stomach to growl, but it was another when their stomach was empty. When was the last time he ate? For fucks sake he could probably hear his stomach from six feet away! But that was none of his business.

“Anyway, what’s your number?” Yoo Joonghyuk took out his phone and opened his contacts app. Kim Dokja paused, moving his arm down to rest on his chair.

“Why do you need my number? Planning to ask me out?” He joked.

“You missed out on a lot of notes. As your kind, and coincidentally first-ranked classmate, I should send you the lecture notes you missed. Right?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s lip curved into a sneaky smile.

“I don’t need them—“

“I didn’t ask, just give me your number—you know no one takes better notes than me.”

“Whatever.” Kim Dokja grabbed his phone and punched his number into it before immediately handing it back.

“Thanks.”

“Whatever…” Kim Dokja groaned. Yoo Joonghyuk rolled his eyes and looked back at him. It was the first time he noticed Kim Dokja’s gaunt appearance. He was thin, no wonder why he was awful at sports, he looked sick. Had he always looked like this?

“—something else?”

“Hm?”

“I said did you need something else? Why are you staring at me like that?” Kim Dokja brought his cigarette close to his lips, taking a deep puff.

“…you hungry?” Kim Dokja cocked an eyebrow and looked at him like he was stupid.

“I’m not.”

“Your stomach says otherwise, hm?” Yoo Joonghyuk was purposely trying to piss him off. He didn’t know what he would say had the conversation gone serious and quiet. Better to stick to what he knows best.

“I’m not hungry.” Kim Dokja insisted. Yoo Joonghyuk scowled before ripping the cigarette between Kim Dokja’s fingers from him.

“Hey—!” Yoo Joonghyuk put it out on the armrest of the chair and threw it into the pile with the rest of the ashen buds.

“Cigarettes are a known appetite suppressant. You should stop smoking them.”

“I thought you were smart. Isn’t it common knowledge that they’re addictive?”

“Just follow me.”

“No—why would I do that?”

“Because I said so—“

“No!”

Kim Dokja didn’t know why he had followed him back to his house. Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door and invited him inside. Yoo Joonghyuk reached for an aerosol can, aiming it at Kim Dokja. He waved it around his shirt before hitting the back of his jacket.

“Did you invite me in here to just gas me—!”

“I’m using Febreeze. My little sister is home and I don’t want her smelling the cigarette stench.”

Kim Dokja quiet down. “I see. Thank you for inviting me in…”

“Sit.” Yoo Joonghyuk turned to drop the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and shuffled through them. Kim Dokja obediently sat on a stool, arms resting on the kitchen island.

Yoo Joonghyuk disappeared upstairs and came back with his backpack. He sighed through it and pulled out a few notebooks, flipping through the pages before finally setting them down in front of Kim Dokja.

“You should take pictures of my notes while you’re here.” Kim Dokja gave him an annoyed look but didn’t protest. He pulled out his phone and started taking the pictures, combing over the information on the pages before turning over to the next one.

In approximately 30 minutes or so there was a bowl of japchae in front of Kim Dokja. He looked up from the notes, eyeing Yoo Joonghyuk.

“You brought me to your house to feed me?”

“Your stomach was growling so loud it was pitiful.”

“I’m not even hungry—“

“Cigarettes are an appetite suppressor, it’s obvious why you don’t feel hungry despite your stomach whining for food.” Yoo Joonghyuk set down chopsticks on top of the bowl he put the japchae in before opening the cabinet for a glass.

“There isn’t always something good to eat, so what’s the point?” Kim Dokja took the chopsticks and started digging into the japchae. After the first bite, he stopped talking and didn’t move to take another bite.

Yoo Joonghyuk noticed when he set the glass of water down. “Something wrong?”

Kim Dokja hesitated to speak. “N-no, it’s just—it tastes good,” his voice was softer than normal.

Yoo Joonghyuk initially wasn’t going to invite him in and cook for him. But his sickly appearance happened to remind him of a time from when he was younger. Maybe ten years old or so, when his parents were busy working day and night. No time to care for Yoo Joonghyuk. He starved for two days before he took it into his own hands to cook for himself, though that first meal was only mildly burnt eggs and rice.

Maybe he did it to heal a past wound. Maybe it was to be kind. He didn’t care. For some reason, the Kim Dokja sitting in his home and eating his food wasn’t ‘Kim Dokja the Rival’ but rather a person his own age with a mysterious background and unknown struggles.

Maybe he did this on a whim. But once he leaves, they’ll be rivals again. He won’t give a flying fuck about Kim Dokja after he leaves because the next time he acknowledges him, it’ll be because he outdid him in their exams.

“Thanks for the meal…and the notes, Joonghyuk.” Kim Dokja was more aloof and docile now.

“Yeah, no problem.”

And just like that Kim Dokja left his house. Friend to foe once more.

“Argh!” One one the students yelled. “I lost the bet—dammit—“

“You only bet a small amount, barely anything compared to everyone else,” the other classmate responded.

“I should’ve bet on Joonghyuk, damn I really thought Dokja had it in the bag this time….”

Yoo Joonghyuk was satisfied. It was only a 2-point difference on most of their exams, yet those 2 points put them in completely different positions. Yoo Joonghyuk was the winner and Kim Dokja was the loser.

His gaze drifted from the posted scores to Kim Dokja. His expression was terrifying to some degree. It was blank. Like no one was home. He noticed his clenched fist and white knuckles. A little blood seeped from between his fingers.

Kim Dokja’s attitude changed when his supporters came over. His expression went from dull to a silly guilt expression. Softened eyebrows, awkward smile, scratched the back of his head a bit as he apologized for not doing well enough. His fist stayed in his pocket.

‘I didn’t think it was that serious…’

He wanted to approach him but their classmates crowded the hall. Yoo Joonghyuk will talk to him another day, he’ll end up finding him somewhere. He always does.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t expect that somewhere to be in the bathroom with Kim Dokja hunched over a toilet. Bright red bile filled the toilet bowl. He looked a little pale and sweaty. That explains why Kim Dokja actually went to the bathroom during their break for once.

“Are you okay…?”

“What do you think?”

Chapter Text

“Are you okay?”

“What do you think?”

Kim Dokja put his head down as he heaved. A little bit of blood marked his lips, contrasting the newfound paleness of his skin.

“I’ll get the nurse—“

Kim Dokja grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back, surprisingly with a lot of force for someone who looked like he was dying. “Don’t, I’m fine.” He said firmly.

“You’re clearly not fucking fine.“ Yoo Joonghyuk stared into the toilet bowl. Now looking at it, it was a darker shade of red, not from the amount of blood. It smelled putrid and acidic. Had that burning feeling in the nostrils, like alcohol.

“Just—“ Kim Dokja was choking up. “Probably a busted blood vessel—I’m fine. Blood irritates the stomach—probably why I threw up. I’m fine, see?” He put a hand over his mouth as if it would dissipate the nausea. His wrist was bruised a deep plum shade with red and green fading into the rest of his skin.

Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his wrist. “Who did this to you?”

“Fuck!” Kim Dokja pulled away immediately. “That hurts.” He rubbed his wrist before pulling his sleeve down further. He flushed the toilet and got up, stumbling back a bit. Yoo Joonghyuk helped him stay up, and Kim Dokja brushed him off. “Tch, why are you even here? To brag? If you’re gonna brag can you get it done and over with.”

“Why are you so damn pissy right now, Dokja? I’m just trying to help you. Exams aren’t that serious for crying out loud. Besides, I won fair and square, so what if I brag?” Yoo Joonghyuk really wanted to sock him in the face. Retribution for the needless worry over him.

Kim Dokja was only further upset, angry even. It was a complicated look, and for some reason, it didn’t feel like it was completely directed at him. “I know you won fair and square! I know that….” He coughed a bit before turning to leave in haste.

“What, going to run away now?” Yoo Joonghyuk mocked. Kim Dokja gritted his teeth and put his head down when he left.

Yoo Joonghyuk was left to process it all. He was irritated, that was for sure. But, that’s not how things were supposed to go. Not at all. He was supposed to come and see how Kim Dokja was doing—he was vomiting blood and what’d he do? Yell at him.

His eyebrows knit together and he just sighed. It was all a mess. A huge fucking mess. What was he supposed to do? Chase after him? Like he’d know where the fuck to find a classmate he barely knows personally —especially when said classmate probably doesn’t want to be found. Found by him at least. Who would he even report the blood thing to? If Kim Dokja told a teacher he was fine the teacher would probably take his word for it.

So, he left Kim Dokja alone. It irritated Yoo Joonghyuk just a bit, that he was doing exactly what Kim Dokja wanted.

‘Why should I care? He’s not even my friend—worse he’s basically my enemy at this point.’

That’s what Yoo Joonghyuk thought. Yet he always found a way to give one too many fucks to give. Always.

He didn’t want to care about Yoo Mia. She was the younger sibling who got what he couldn’t get from his parents: love and attention. Favoritism even. Yet the moment they weren’t as interested in her, he found himself caring more and more about her in their place.

And it was happening all over again! With a classmate that he barely talks to and probably hates in return. But not this time, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t cave. If Kim Dokja chose to keep whatever internal bleeding he was experiencing going, that was his choice. If anything, the pain would keep him quiet. Good, he could pretend he doesn’t exist and everything would be fine.

He’s really an idiot.

So much for saying he wouldn’t give a fuck. He really shouldn’t, but it was alarming to see the Kim Dokja running late to class. Lunch had ended at least 10 minutes ago. If anything, Kim Dokja should’ve been the first one in the classroom.

Yoo Joonghyuk got excused to use the bathroom to roam around the halls looking for him. Maybe he was in the bathroom like he was earlier? If not, perhaps the roof? He usually saw him there during lunch.

He opened the door to the boys' bathroom and started trying to push the doors open.

“Dokja?” He called. Maybe he shouldn’t have, Kim Dokja seemed to have an issue with him seeking him out. If he had such a problem he should’ve gone to class.

One cracked open door slowly opened with an annoying hinge creak, and there he was. Kim Dokja was slumped against the wall paled skin. It looked like he had thrown up some more, though the toilet bowl wasn’t really red like last time.

He crouched to tap Kim Dokja. “Get up, you’re late for class.” He didn’t get up. Yoo Joonghyuk leaned over to see his face.

He was passed out. Kim Dokja’s lips were chapped, skin was pale, and his face looked sickly too. Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his hand to his forehead.

“He’s a bit warm…”

Yoo Joonghyuk sided before hoisting him into his back, folding his arms in front of his neck to try to prevent him from falling off. He made his way to the nurse's office.

Luckily everyone else was in class, there was no one to start a commotion. Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door to the nurse's office.

He was a little surprised to see the nurse in the room. He assumed she would still be on her lunch break in the staff lounge. She turned her chair, white hair falling over her shoulder. Nurse Seolhwa’s eyes widened momentarily.

She got up and walked towards the two. “What happened?”

“I think he’s been sick. He was throwing up earlier and I just found him passed out in the bathroom…”

Nurse Seolhwa thought for a second. “Put him on that bed over there, I’ll call your teacher and let him know. Did you want to stay here with him, Joonghyuk?”

She had a faint red smile on her face. Her red lipstick was a signature look. Yoo Joonghyuk had gotten to know her over the year. She was one of the few staff members that sincerely cared about students.

“…I’ll stay,” he muttered.

“I’ll let your teacher know, you can pick up your things later.” Nurse Seolhwa moved over to Kim Dokja with a thermometer in hand. It was one of those fancy types you put in your ear. She put on a new plastic covering and checked his temperature.

“He’s a little feverish, but it seems whatever it is is about to finish running its course. He must’ve been sick for one or two days already.”

Yoo Joonghyuk had thought back to Friday. Kim Dokja was looking pale and acting a little bit off, but he just shrugged it off since it was after exams. Everyone got their scores over the weekend, though no one knew who ranked the highest until today. Maybe the stress from that worsened his illness.

“I’ll get him some nausea medication. If he wakes up give him some water, you know where it is—“

“Nurse Seolhwa…,” Yoo Joonghyuk called. His tone was a little different.

“Hm? What is it Joonghyuk?”

“There’s actually—I mean there’s also a bruise on his hand. I was wondering if you could treat it.”

She walked over to Kim Dokja and rolled up his sleeve to see the bruise. Its deep color remained from earlier. If anything the lighting revealed just how back it is. Her face twitched before returning to its naturally calm state.

“It’s a nasty bruise. I’ll get some ice for it, stay with him please,” was all she said before she walked off. Yoo Joonghyuk sat next the the bed with a water bottle in hand.

Eventually, Nurse Seolhwa returned. She wrapped up the bruise before putting an ice pack on it. She checked his temperature again.

“I have a staff meeting to go to, I alerted his guardian that he was ill and needed to go home, so they should be here soon. So will you be okay staying with him until then?”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked back at the sleeping Kim Dokja. He looked so peaceful. Much better than the annoying awake version of him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you Nurse Seolhwa.” Yoo Joonghyuk gave her a little bow before she ruffled his hair. She picked up her bag and turned back to them before she left the room.

“Oh, your bags are on the bed over there. If anything happens alert a staff member nearby, got it?”

“Mm.” Yoo Joonghyuk hummed before she left.

Now he was stuck with an ill and unconscious Kim Dokja. He was skipping class. It was an odd day—odd because he was doing odd things. Skipping class, helping another student he doesn’t really like, he isn’t even studying even though he has ample time to do so—god he’s even waiting for his guardian to come pick him up!

He let out a heavy sigh. Yoo Joonghyuk sat back down and laid back in the chair. He closed his eyes.

He swore it was only for a few minutes, 5 at best. But when he woke up school was about to end, and surprisingly, Kim Dokja was awake.

“Morning?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“The hell happened…,” Kim Dokja shut his eyes tightly and clutched his head. Seemed like he was experiencing a headache.

“You passed out, so much for being fine.”

“Tch.” Kim Dokja clicked his tongue and sighed. He groaned a bit too. “I need a smoke.”

“You’re a damn addict, no wonder why you got sick.”

“Shut the hell up, you don’t know shit.” Kim Dokja had raised his voice a bit.

“Y’know, you’re always so rude to me and only me. So fucking fake to everyone else—what puts me aside from the others that you can’t even pretend to be nice to me?”

“Now why the fuck—“

The door had opened. A man, maybe Yoo Joonghyuk’s height, or a tad bit taller, strolled into the room. Broad shoulders, not exactly pale nor tan skin, somewhere in the middle, pitch black hair, he wore a suit too.

Face uncomfortably similar to a certain person he knew.

And all the tension between them disappeared only to be replaced with a sickening pressure. A slight chill ran up his spine. The man looked relaxed, maybe the line of his lips was raised a bit—like a faint smile.

“Dokja, if you were sick, you could’ve stayed home.”

Kim Dokja looked more sick and uncomfortable than when he initially brought him into the nurse's office.

“I didn’t want to get behind in my classes…”

“That’s good. But the school day is essentially over, we should go home, no?”

“Y-yeah—“

“Oh, who’s this?” Kim Dokja’s father finally acknowledged him. His eyes were more sharp than Kim Dokja’s. The tone that laced his voice made Yoo Joonghyuk raise his thick eyebrows.

“I am Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“He’s my class—“

“Joonghyuk? You’re first in the class, right? Impressive—I wish Dokja would study just as hard as you…”

He gulped. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t feel comfortable talking to this man anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was the way he spoke or the way he was clenching his fists but he needed to get the fuck out of here.

Suddenly his phone buzzed. Text from his mom.

Mom

Your father and I will be home late. Put Mia to bed before 10pm, I left some money on the table for dinner.

Okay.

No ‘hi’ or ‘hey son’ but he couldn’t help but be grateful.

“Sorry, my mom just texted me, I need to get home. It was a pleasure..to meet you Mr. Kim.” Yoo Joonghyuk forced a smile.

“It was nice to meet you too.” Kim Dokja’s father looked away from him and to Kim Dokja. Yoo Joonghyuk had gotten out of his seat and grabbed his bag.

It was only when he turned to leave that he saw Kim Dokja’s face.

Expressionless.

Chapter Text

The next day he didn’t talk to Kim Dokja, and Kim Dokja didn’t approach him either. They snuck glances at one another, like how it was when Yoo Joonghyuk first transferred. Although they didn’t directly talk to one another, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t help but observe Kim Dokja. Somehow he was always doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing or injured.

It was barely noticeable, but there was a sway in his walk or however, you would describe the strange way of walking. It wasn’t how he normally walked. Kim Dokja was usually straight to the point but now there were extra muscle movements.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. They stopped interacting with one another—it was finally time to put himself first. To stop focusing on the fully nonsensical Kim Dokja. Thus, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t look at him for the rest of the day.

It was a slow day. The winter crept in the last few weeks, making the sun set earlier. When he finally left the school the sky had started turning orange and the clouds that filled the sky were lined with a coral pink. The wind was picking up too.

Yoo Joonghyuk readjusted his black scarf, burying his face into it. He never particularly liked the winter months. It was too dreary and it reminded him of the long period of time in which his parents were never home—more so that they didn’t pay the electricity bill, leaving him without heat, than his parents not being home.

‘Dokja didn’t bring a thick coat or a scarf with him—‘

His train of thought stopped. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of him of all people. It was his chance to finally break away from him and return to do his own thing.

Unfortunately for him, he was too wrapped up with that stupid smoker. Something about Kim Dokja was terribly intoxicating. He always wanted to quit, yet he came right back to him.

Thus, he was in front of that damned broken and rusty fence. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t waste time and went in immediately. Every time he came, Kim Dokja was here. So, would he be here again?

Yoo Joonghyuk’s feet followed the vaguely familiar path. He ended up right where he wanted to be. To his surprise, there were many, many empty soju bottles.

He looked up to see a wobbly Kim Dokja walking back with empty bottles in his hand.

“Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja asked. Confusion and annoyance laced his voice.

“For fucks sake, are you drunk? I can’t believe you would turn to alcohol—are you trying to ruin your lungs and liver?”

The sudden crash of a bottle at his foot startled him.

“Can you shut the fuck up? I’m not drunk and I would never touch that shit! God, why are you even here?”

Yoo Joonghyuk went silent momentarily. “I got a little worried, you were walking funny today.”

It was a brilliant excuse. At least he wouldn’t come across as weird. Showing up for no reason at all would probably set Kim Dokja off more.

“I’m not fragile, y’know.”

“Yet you’re always injured. You may not break, but you bruise and bleed.” Yoo Joonghyuk walked closer to Kim Dokja.

“Tch, you should mind your own business.”

“I should’ve, but now I’m here. So why do you have so many empty soju bottles?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“Cash. I’m collecting the bottles so I can go to a recycling center and get some cash.” Kim Dokja moved the bottles into a plastic trash bag one by one.

Kim Dokja’s dad seemed to be a businessman of sorts and it didn’t exactly seem like they were struggling financially. His dad couldn’t spare a couple of won for his son?

“Your parents don’t give you any type of pocket money?”

“Not enough for cigarettes.”

“Addict,” Yoo Joonghyuk responded.

“Stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker?” Yoo Joonghyuk was almost offended by the sudden accusation.

“You followed me all that way over here a few times—hell you even found me at school when I snuck away.” Kim Dokja spat as he tied up the trash bag. “So you gonna follow me all the way to the recycling center?”

Yoo Joonghyuk pondered for a moment. It was chilly outside and he wanted to go home, but his parents were home. For him, it didn’t matter if they were home or not, the treatment and indifference were the same. But, if they were home, then he didn’t need to take care of Yoo Mia.

“Sure, I’ll stalk you all the way to the recycling center.”

His answer seemed to irritate Kim Dokja further.

“Whatever,” he mumbled. He picked up the bag and put it over his shoulder. “If you’re tagging along, can you at least carry my school bag?”

“…fine.” Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed the bag next to the old chair. He put it over his shoulder along with his own. “Hey, what happened to the cat?”

“Hm? Biyoo is in and out of this place. She came earlier today though. Now enough yapping and start moving, the recycling center is about two streets away.”

And thus, they started walking. They periodically stopped, mostly so Kim Dokja could catch his breath. Now Yoo Joonghyuk was looking closely at him, it was obvious that he was a bit too skinny for a 17-year-old like himself. He had little muscle and poor stamina, no wonder why Kim Dokja could never surpass him in gym class.

By the time they turned in the bottles the sun had disappeared, leaving them with the night sky and the little hints of orange. It was like a dying flame in a dark room. The moment that last bit of light went out, it’d be completely dark. Unfortunately for them, the wind only picked up making the night freezing.

“How much did you get?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked. He slipped Kim Dokja’s bag off his shoulder and handed it to him.

“Enough for a pack of cigarettes.” He took his bag, placing the cash into the small side pocket. Kim Dokja threw his bag over his shoulder before he turned. “I’ll see you around, Joonghyuk.”

“Hey, Dokja—“

“What, what is it this time?” Kim Dokja rolled his eyes. He acted sick and tired of Yoo Joonghyuk every time he opened his mouth yet he always heard him out.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re going back to the junkyard. At least my place is heated. It’s also supposed to rain later.”

“How kind, but I’ll take my chances. Goodbye.” He ran off, leaving Yoo Joonghyuk alone.

His walk home wasn’t any different from usual. He was alone, with no one to talk to, and quiet. The only difference was it was dark out, though the city lights and pollution of Seoul kept it from getting pitch black.

He looked up. The dark clouds coated the sky. No stars to be seen. It’s not like he would’ve seen many anyway, polluted cities have the least visibility for stargazing. He merely sighed and kept walking.

When Yoo Joonghyuk reached his house, he was met with an empty and dark home. He turned on the kitchen lights and read the note on the table.

Your father and I took Mia out to eat for dinner, we’ll be back soon.

- Mom

He crumpled the note and threw it into the garbage can. It wasn’t their first time doing this, definitely wouldn’t be the last either. Each time it would get worse. His parents would call him, then it would be a text, now notes. It wouldn’t even be surprising if they just stopped telling him altogether.

Yoo Joonghyuk made his way upstairs. He quickly put his bag down and took a shower, drying his hair with a towel before exiting.

He shuffled through the cabinets for something simple to eat, that was until the doorbell rang. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. His family left him to go eat dinner—left him home alone, now he had to open the door to see who the fuck was outside and feel the wind blow right at him.

Nonetheless, he still opened the door. Maybe it was a late package?

“You look like a wet rat.”

“I’ll leave…,” Kim Dokja muttered.

“I’m joking, come inside.” Yoo Joonghyuk moved to make way for him. The soaked Kim Dokja stood in the foyer like a mannequin. His clothes stuck to his skin and his hair dripped. The rain got him good.

“I’ll get you a towel…” Yoo Joonghyuk came back from the bathroom and handed him a clean white towel. Kim Dokja unraveled and started drying his hair.

“How long were you outside for?”

“Doesn’t matter…it was just cold and—and you said your house was heated.”

“Yeah, I did.” Yoo Joonghyuk went back to ransacking the cabinets. His eyes landed on the buldak stashed in the back. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

“Hm? It’s fine I—“

“I’ll just make one for you.”

“No I’m fine, I’m not even hungry.”

“Cigarettes suppress one’s appetite.“ Yoo Joonghyuk argued.

“Why’d you even ask?”

“To make it seem like you had a choice.”

“Whatever.” Kim Dokja placed his bag and jacket at the door before folding up the towel. He placed it on the stool before sitting down. He leaned in and rested his arms on the kitchen island.

Before he knew it the noodles were ready. Yoo Joonghyuk carefully cut the sauce packets. “How spicy do you like yours?”

“Spicy, but nothing crazy.”

Yoo Joonghyuk hummed. He put about three-fourths of the packet into Kim Dokja’s noodles. He turned to put less than half in his own.

“What’s the point of eating spicy buldak if you’re not going to make it spicy?” Kim Dokja cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t like spicy foods all that much. It’s annoying and gets in the way of the flavor of the food. But, my mom likes spicy foods so this is the only thing we have right now, and unfortunately, the thing that makes buldak taste good is the spice.”

“Hm, so you just have a low spicy tolerance,” Kim Dokja said. He seemed to be amused by his new findings.

“I don’t.”

“But that’s exactly what a person who can’t hold their spice would say.”

“Just eat the fucking noodles.”

Kim Dokja snickered. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Whatever.”

They ate in silence. It was weird, the last time Yoo Joonghyuk brought him in to eat as a way to keep his competitor in the game, now he was interested in Kim Dokja passed all of that.

Intoxicatingly interesting yet annoying at times. Get too close and he’ll hiss like a cat. Feed him he gets docile. He’ll still give attitude despite that. Kim Dokja was much like a cat in that way.

He’s studying most of the time. He interacts with their classmates with a smile but he doesn’t like them all that much. Kim Dokja is a people pleaser but doesn’t even like the people he’s pleasing.

He smokes cigarettes and doesn’t hesitate to put them out with his bare hands but won’t touch alcohol. The smoker spends time more at a dirty junkyard than at home.

His clothes are thin and frankly worn out. Kim Dokja doesn’t eat nor does he have enough money to buy cigarettes. Most times he’s injured in some shape or form. His dad—

His dad.

Yoo Joonghyuk ate his noodles with a silent mind.

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja was really like a cat in a lot of ways. Initially, it was just a silly comparison. Oh but did it describe him well. He was more of a stray cat, if anything. Put out food and stay really still, the cat will come to you, but if you go in to pet it? It might back away.

Yoo Joonghyuk thought that sharing a nighttime outing made them a little closer. He helped him every now and then with Kim Dokja’s own stupid problems. They even ate together at his house!

But now? It seems like he was at square one again, but this time Kim Dokja wasn’t much of a rival. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know what he was, but he definitely wasn’t a person to best. Not like Kim Dokja could outdo him anyway. He was someone he wanted to talk to at the very least, be acquainted with. He kept inching closer yet Kim Dokja would take a mile step to get away.

When Yoo Joonghyuk walked into the classroom, he saw Kim Dokja sitting in his assigned seat, their classmates paying no mind to him. Typical, he only mattered when they needed him for class. He was studying alone.

Yoo Joonghyuk set his bag down at his seat by the window before sitting down. He’ll catch him right when class ends, there was no rush. Besides if their classmates notice him walking up to talk to Kim Dokja, they would probably jump into the conversation like the nuisances they are.

He took his phone out, turning it sideways as his game loaded. In the meanwhile, Yoo Joonghyuk watched Kim Dokja. His face looked as neutral as it was going to get. It bordered both upset and fine. Then his eyes drifted down.

First from his face to his neck. There was surprisingly a lot of length around the middle of his neck that he hadn’t noticed before. Then his gaze dropped to his shoulder and worked all the way to his hands.

Kim Dokja’s hand trembled as he wrote. Yoo Joonghyuk thought it wasn’t particularly cold in the classroom and it seemed like their classmates were on the same boat. No one was complaining about the cold like they normally would. Especially when it just started to get cold and the school refused to turn on the heater until it was freezing outside.

Nonetheless, Kim Dokja’s hand jittered as he scribbled in his notebook. Kim Dokja let out a sigh and that’s when Yoo Joonghyuk finally decided to go back to his game. He wasn’t going to get answers by just staring at him.

Their teacher strolled in and began the lesson. Of course, only half of the class was paying attention. Before he knew it, the class was finally over.

And before he could even get up to talk to Kim Dokja, a few students swarmed him.

“Ah—that lecture was so hard to follow! Did you understand it, Dokja?”

“It was, I was especially confused around the last part. Did you take notes for it?”

Kim Dokja’s tired face contorted into a smile. “I did take notes. I don’t know if they’re good enough. Do you want to borrow them?”

His classmates looked ecstatic to receive the offer. “Oh, would you? You’re the best Dokja!”

And just like that the next class started.

It wasn’t until lunch that they stopped bothering Kim Dokja. Unsurprising, really. Bothered him for notes and help but when it came to lunch, they all left him alone.

Worked in his favor anyway. Kim Dokja left the classroom and went up to the roof. Yoo Joonghyuk trailed after him. When they got up to the roof, they were hit with cold air immediately. It was only warm because the sun was still shining.

Kim Dokja didn’t even notice Yoo Joonghyuk on his ass until he was right behind him.

“Woah, when the hell were you following me?!”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Kim Dokja’s face closely as he spoke. His eye bags had gotten darker.

“If you didn’t notice me the whole way then you don’t watch your surroundings at all.”

“Whatever,” Kim Dokja mumbled. “What do you want?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eye twitched. Kim Dokja was treating him as a nuisance once more but he wasn’t going to stand for it. Wasn’t going to go away because Kim Dokja felt mildly annoyed by his presence.

“Your hands are trembling.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“Then why are they in your pocket?”

“Because I’m cold? Joonghyuk what are you getting at—“

“Then take them out of your pocket.”

“No, I just told you—hey!” Kim Dokja yelled.

Yoo Joonghyuk got fed up with his shenanigans and pulled his hand out of his pocket himself.

“Hand not trembling, huh?” Yoo Joonghyuk said in a slightly smug tone.

“Why does it even matter to you?”

“If you’re sick, you can go see Nurse Seolhwa—“

“I’m not sick!”

Yoo Joonghyuk only rolled his eyes at his outburst. Yoo Joonghyuk held his trembling hand firmly as Kim Dokja tried to slip away.

The wind had gotten stronger and clouds started to roll in slowly, decorating the once-clear sky.

“Seriously—I just…didn’t sleep that much. My hands start shaking if I lack sleep and consume too much caffeine.”

For once, Kim Dokja spewed honesty.

Yoo Joonghyuk let go of his hand. “You should sleep more.”

“Easy for you to say, you probably average 8 hours at the very least,” Kim Dokja retorted.

“And how many hours of sleep do you average?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“About 5 to 6 hours. Today I think I got 2 or 3?” Kim Dokja thought back a little. He went to sleep around 4 am and woke up around 7 am to get ready for class.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? Don’t you know you should try to get 8 to 10 hours of sleep?”

Kim Dokja scoffed. “I didn’t expect you to read and believe those kinds of studies, Joonghyuk.” Silence followed momentarily as Kim Dokja spoke again. “You’re in a position where you can sleep that much.”

“And you’re not? Do tell Dokja, what keeps you awake?”

Kim Dokja glared at him. He wasn’t sure if Yoo Joonghyuk was mocking him or providing fake sympathy but he didn’t like it.

Before Kim Dokja could answer cold water was basically dumped on him. It had started raining—and it was raining hard.

“Shit it didn’t say it was going to rain today—“ Yoo Joonghyuk muttered.

“Dammit!” Kim Dokja booked it for the stairs, Yoo Joonghyuk following close.

Kim Dokja almost slipped into the stairwell as he ran. He was pulled back by Yoo Joonghyuk.

“T-thanks.”

Yoo Joonghyuk replied with a hum before sighing.

Perfect, wet school clothes when there are still hours before the day ends. Thankfully for Yoo Joonghyuk, his gym clothes were still in his bag.

“I’m gonna get changed before lunch ends,” he muttered.

“Okay.” That was all Kim Dokja said before Yoo Joonghyuk left.

He quickly changed out of his wet clothes and into his dry gym clothes, patting down his skin with the damp shirt he just took off. Although all he was wearing was a shirt and a pair of shorts, he wasn’t cold. Thank god the school started turning on the heater a few hours ago…

When he entered the classroom, he was surprised to see Kim Dokja sitting down in his damp clothes. He looked like a wet dog. His classmates treated him like a wet dog, asking what happened or giggling at how he looked.

Before he could say anything, lunch was officially over and class had started.

Kim Dokja’s whole body shivered as the clock ticked.

Chapter Text

Initially, he thought Kim Dokja was just being Kim Dokja. Silent until spoken to and eyes glued to his notebook until class ended. The routine of a typical model student. The norm for him.

Kim Dokja’s eyes fluttered now and then. Yoo Joonghyuk assumed he was probably tired. The real telltale sign of something being wrong was when his head was resting on his notebook in the middle of class, the next time he gazed at him. Their teacher looked confused at Kim Dokja’s behavior, but let it go.

His deskmate even looked at him every now and then to see if he was going to wake up or not with both amusement and a bit of concern. To everyone’s surprise, he didn’t wake up within the next 20 minutes of class.

Class had finally ended, marking the start of lunch, and Kim Dokja still hadn’t woken up yet. That was enough material to get their classmates whispering.

“Is he sick?” One said.

“Maybe, he was in drenched clothes for half of the school day, just like what? A few days ago?”

“Someone should take him to the nurse.” A guy chimed in.

“Or at least wake him up…”

Their classmates chattered and agreed. It would be natural to think he was sick. He didn’t look too well either.

Yoo Joonghyuk gathered his things. Knowing Kim Dokja, he could be stuck in the nurse’s office with him for the rest of the day. Before he could walk to him, another one of their classmates came up to him.

He shook his shoulder a couple of times. “Dokja? Hey, Dokja? You awake? You’re in school, y’know?”

The classmate's group of friends giggled here and there as they showed phony concern. But after a few attempts, he woke up.

Kim Dokja blinked a few times and gave a small yawn before becoming responsive.

“Are you sick? You don’t look too good.”

Kim Dokja just gave him a small smile and replied with “I’m fine”.

“Well, if you’re sure, then.” He sighed, almost relieved that he didn’t have to do anything. Their classmate moved away from Kim Dokja and went back to his own group of friends before walking out with them.

‘Asshole.’

Kim Dokja got up from his seat and rubbed his eyes, stretching here and there. Yoo Joonghyuk started to make his way to him.

Then his phone rang. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the caller.

Mom

He instinctively turned away from the open space of the class and looked out the window before picking up.

“Hello?” He answered.

‘Joonghyuk, your father, Mia, and I are going to be gone for a few days to stay with grandma. She is a bit ill. There’s food at home, but I left some money on the table.’

“Okay. When do you think you’ll—“

‘Bye.’

And the call ended. Waste of time and breath. She spoke like she didn’t have a paid phone plan. If she was going to keep the conversation under 30 seconds, she should’ve sent a text.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and put away his phone, redirecting his focus to where he was going. But when he looked up from his phone, Kim Dokja was gone.

He immediately went to the rooftop, but to his surprise, he wasn’t there. It was too cold, and he probably didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs anyway.

Then the nurse’s office, in hopes that Kim Dokja was feeling a little smarter today and decided to take care of himself. To no surprise, he wasn’t there when he opened the door. Only Nurse Seolhwa.

She turned her head at the noise of the door opening, white hair whipping softly along with her. Nurse Seolhwa looked at him with much confusion. He seemed oddly worked up, unusual for him.

“Did something happen, Joonghyuk?” She asked, turning her chair to face him fully.

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his head. “No, not really,” he muttered, disappointment lacing his voice.

“Sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he sighed.

“Are you busy right now? I need to move some boxes dumpster and would appreciate some help.” She smiled.

Yoo Joonghyuk contemplated for a few seconds before nodding. If he wasn’t in the nurse’s office, then he could’ve been in the bathroom. Even then, by the time he got there, there would be a good chance that Kim Dokja had left to go elsewhere. His best bet was to catch him before the end of their last class.

He picked up a few boxes and stacked them on top of one another. Nurse Seolhwa got up and took a box or two herself.

They walked out of the office and made their way down the hall. Yoo Joonghyuk eyed each student they passed.

‘No, that’s not Dokja.’

‘Not Dokja.’

‘That’s not Dokja.’

‘Where did Dokja disappear to?’

Lee Seolhwa noticed his wandering eyes but didn’t comment. Though she did make sure he turned at the right corners, so he didn’t hit the wall.

One trip turned to two, then two turned to three, then Nurse Seolhwa informed his teacher he was going to be late for class.

When Yoo Joonghyuk eventually rejoined his class, the one person he had been looking for all this time was missing. Both body and possessions are gone.

Yoo Joonghyuk nudged his deskmate for the first time to ask, “Where did Dokja go?”

His classmate was surprised that Yoo Joonghyuk even talked to him, much less asked about Kim Dokja. He fiddled with his pencil before answering.

“D-Dokja said he wasn’t feeling well, so he went to the nurse’s office to call his guardian.”

Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow. He was in and out of the nurse’s office since he last saw Kim Dokja; there was no way in hell he was there at any point in time without him noticing.

“Thanks,” Yoo Joonghyuk said before focusing on the lecture once more.

The school day had ended, and there was no one to go home to, which meant he was free to do as he pleased with no restrictions.

It didn’t take Yoo Joonghyuk long to get to the junkyard, though every second he stayed in the howling wind, the redder and runnier his nose got. When he got there, he immediately found Kim Dokja slumped against his usual chair.

Kim Dokja’s eyebrows were furrowed, his skin was pale, he shivered and looked sweaty, he looked god damn awful. Yoo Joonghyuk dropped his bag and went to check on him.

“Dokja? Hey, Dokja! Can you hear me?” Yoo Joonghyuk said, getting louder with each sentence.

Kim Dokja replied with a weak, pissy mumble. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed before putting the back of his hand to his forehead. He tsked when he felt how cold his skin was.

‘He’s only going to get worse by staying out here….’

Yoo Joonghyuk crouched down and pulled Kim Dokja onto his back. He grabbed their bags and stood up, making sure he held Kim Dokja firmly. He looked around to see if he had missed anything before leaving the junkyard.

It took slightly longer to reach his house than he expected. Kim Dokja did weigh him down to some degree after all. Yoo Joonghyuk managed to open the door with his keys without dropping Kim Dokja.

Once they came inside, Yoo Joonghyuk dropped their bags and took off his shoes before carrying Kim Dokja to his room.

“Hmm…?” Kim Dokja stirred, feeling Yoo Joonghyuk go up the steps.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned his head a bit, trying to see his face. “Are you awake?”

He didn’t get a verbal response, but he felt Kim Dokja’s face moving up and down beside his head. It was a good enough answer.

Yoo Joonghyuk knelt in front of his bed before he slowly moved Kim Dokja off of him. He sat him on his bed, looking at his face.

The last time Kim Dokja was sick could not compare to the him he was seeing now. His complexion was downright awful. He looked more like a depressed and diseased zombie rather than an ill human.

Yoo Joonghyuk took off his shoes and threw them outside his room before walking off to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

“Open your mouth.” Yoo Joonghyuk commanded. Kim Dokja parted his lips, and Yoo Joonghyuk carefully wedged a thermometer under his tongue.

A minute or so passed, and it started beeping. Yoo Joonghyuk took it out of his mouth and examined the number.

‘102.5°F….’

He put the thermometer down and left the room. When he came back, Kim Dokja was lying on his side, but seemingly more aware now.

“W—where am I…?” His voice soft and confused.

“My house,” Yoo Joonghyuk responded.

Kim Dokja hummed in response before closing his eyes.

“How are you feeling? Nauseous? Dizzy?”

Kim Dokja replied with more mumbling and humming. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed as he broke a pill or two into a glass of water. He stirred it for a couple of seconds, waiting for it to dissolve before pulling Kim Dokja upright.

He pressed the cup to his lips. “Drink this.”

Kim Dokja didn’t start until Yoo Joonghyuk gently pulled his lip down and forced it into his mouth. Luckily, Kim Dokja swallowed the medicine without struggle.

“I’ll take you to the doctors once the wind dies down a bit.”

“Don’t,” Kim Dokja weakly protested.

Yoo Joonghyuk gave an annoyed eye roll and sighed. “And why not?”

“Just…don’t. I’m fine…,” he insisted.

Yoo Joonghyuk locked eyes with him. Kim Dokja’s eyes were barely open. They looked drowsy and tired. As much as he wanted to dump him at a hospital, there must’ve been a decent reason for him to refuse.

“Fine. I won’t. But in return, just rest here.” Kim Dokja nodded, though it seemed like he wanted to refuse. If he got worse, he’d take him to the hospital whether he liked it or not. Yoo Joonghyuk then went to remove Kim Dokja’s coat.

“Tch—you…stealing my coat?”

“You don’t need it, my heater is on. It’ll be more comfortable when you sleep anyway.” And it wasn’t like it was thick enough to keep him warm anyway.

Yoo Joonghyuk stripped him of his coat and thing scarf before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Weirdo…”

“Shut up.” Yoo Joonghyuk retorted. “You’ll fall asleep better if you’re not getting strangled by the collar of your shirt.”

Yoo Joonghyuk rolled Kim Dokja to the other side of the bed so he could spread him out comfortably. He then threw a blanket on top of Kim Dokja.

“Mm..it’s so warm in your room…,” Kim Dokja mumbled.

“It’s not that warm. Chilly actually. The heater should be kicking on soon.”

Yoo Joonghyuk expected a witty retort of some sort. When silence filled the air, he took a closer look at Kim Dokja.

He was sleeping. Thus, Yoo Joonghyuk left the room to clean up, study, and shower. Nothing else to do but keep moving when you’re bedless.

When Yoo Joonghyuk returned to his room to start setting up a make-shift bed next to his own for the night, he noticed Kim Dokja awake, or at least half-conscious.

Yoo Joonghyuk came closer to the bed and knelt beside it. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm—it’s cozy in here.” Kim Dokja muttered.

It was weird to hear him say that. His tone was soft and innocent, mimicking almost a child. It reminded Yoo Joonghyuk of Yoo Mia when she was sick. He was delirious.

“I would hope so. The heater’s on—“

“Wow, you have a heater in your room?”

Yoo Joonghyuk moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at Kim Dokja as he spoke. “Yeah, all the rooms have one. Your bedroom doesn’t?” He then cocked an eyebrow.

“Doesn’ work…”

“You should get it fixed before the cold really sets in…”

“It’s never worked.” Kim Dokja looked away, yawning a bit. “Dad said…he’ll get it fixed if—“

“How do you stay warm if your heater doesn’t work? I know your clothes are thin, so it can’t be that…”

Kim Dokja paused and started mumbling about something else.

“Your bed is so soft. I didn’t know beds could be soft like this…and high?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s head tilted.

“What do you mean? Didn’t your parents put your bed on a bed frame?”

Kim Dokja shook his head a bit.

“When what kind of mattress do you have then?”

“Old—dunno the kind…” Kim Dokja’s words grew softer.

“Well, what about food—“

Snoring followed before Yoo Joonghyuk asked his question. It seemed to be the end of this half-conscious Q&A.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and grabbed the free pillow next to Kim Dokja and set a sheet from his closet down before making his bed. He then grabbed an old and frankly small blanket, at least for him, out.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s first time sleeping on the floor in his family's new house. It was hard, just like he expected.

He tossed and turned before laying in his back. He couldn’t get sleep on something this hard.

Then he wondered if Kim Dokja’s bed felt like this.

Chapter Text

“…!”

Kim Dokja’s eyes opened to an unfamiliar room. He was closer to the ceiling than ever in the last 9 years of his life. The bed was soft and the blanket was uncharacteristically heavy on his body. It was far too cozy to be his bed. He blinked a few times to dispel the drowsiness.

The moment he sat up, his head started to throb like someone threw a book at him. He held his head as he groaned, grinding his thumb into his temple to massage it away.

Almost like it were a signal, Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door. When their gazes met, he stepped into the room.

“Good, I don’t need to wake you.”

Kim Dokja looked at him with a confused expression. His eyes swept the room and then he looked back at him. “When did I—“

“Yesterday. I found you passed out in the junkyard like a fool.”

“Should’ve just left me there I’m sure I would’ve—“

No ‘thank you?’ No concern for himself? He didn’t expect much—maybe not even a thank you, but the sheer thought of Kim Dokja unseriously opening his arms to death like it was another Monday morning at school was infuriating.

“You would have died like an idiot, that’s what would’ve happened. You’re already frail enough, layer that with a running illness and freezing temperatures and you would’ve been a goner. Seriously, do you have a death—“

“Stop interrupting me,” Kim Dokja demanded. At some point, he started to glare at Yoo Joonghyuk. “What happens to me is none of your business. We’re not friends—barely my classmates,” he laughed a bit. Kim Dokja was amused by his own outburst.

“Yeah?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked as he grew closer. “Is that what you really think? Because I know you’re full of shit.” Kim Dokja pressed his lips together and glared at him. “And you know it too. Really, I’m not sure if we’re technically friends, but we’re more than classmates. You would’ve never come to my house even if it was raining, taken the time to speak to me outside of class, and would’ve flat-out ignored me if I wasn’t your ‘friend’.”

Kim Dokja didn’t speak. He just listened as Yoo Joonghyuk ranted and ranted. He sighed and turned away from him before throwing the blanket back over him.

“You…!” Yoo Joonghyuk snapped. And just like that the blanket was thrown off Kim Dokja and the heat of the blanket was replaced by warm but rough hands on both his ankles.

“I think that was pretty unnecessary…,” Kim Dokja murmured.

Kim Dokja sat down in front of the kitchen island. His hair was messy, the collar of his button-up opened, drowsiness still muddling his thoughts. Even worse now Yoo Joonghyuk dragged him, physically, out of bed onto the hard floor. He was sure his knees were turning purple at the moment.

“Shouldn’t have given me attitude then.” Yoo Joonghyuk carefully placed a bowl in front of Kim Dokja. Steam rose from the bowl.

“What’s this?”

“Chicken soup,” Yoo Joonghyuk responded nonchalantly. He didn’t look up to speak to Kim Dokja. He stirred the pot, making sure to get the bottom, before using the ladle to pour another bowl of soup.

“Why?”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Kim Dokja this time, looking at him as if he was stupid.

“You’re sick and haven’t eaten anything. You need something warm. Just try it.”

“I’m fine, I don’t need a pity meal.”

“Can you just not fight me? Just eat the damn soup, please.“

Kim Dokja sighed as he rolled his eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk shot him an annoyed look. But, Kim Dokja started eating without any more fuss.

He hated to admit it, but the soup was delicious. The broth was flavorful and savory, not watery or salty at all. It was more surprising that it didn’t taste artificial, much like the soup he was used to. And the vegetables were soft and not completely mushy. It satisfied his taste buds and the hole in his stomach that was starting to become painful.

Yoo Joonghyuk placed his bowl and sat a seat over from where Kim Dokja sat. There was a single, vacant seat between them. Yoo Joonghyuk started to dig into his bowl.

They ate in silence for a while. Nothing but soft slurping and the clinks of their spoons hitting their bowls filling the emptiness.

Kim Dokja cleared his throat. “Where’s your family? It’s quiet.”

“Staying with a relative for a little while.”

Kim Dokja looked up, eyeing him from the corner of his vision. “You’re here by yourself?”

“Mhm.”

Kim Dokja didn’t ask further, though it seemed like he had something to say.

“It seems like you slept well…,” Yoo Joonghyuk mumbled.

“Guess I did.” Kim Dokja moved the carrots in his bowl around with his spoon lazily.

“Is my bed that much better than yours? You don’t look that exhausted now.”

Kim Dokja didn’t respond. The room grew colder. He could tell what Yoo Joonghyuk really wanted to know when he asked: What kind of bed did he sleep on? Did it really have no frame?

“Sure,” Kim Dokja muttered before going back to finishing his bowl of soup.

Yoo Joonghyuk got up and went back to the pot, pouring more soup into his bowl.

“You want seconds?” He asked.

“I haven’t even finished my first bowl.”

“I never said now.”

“I think I’m good,” Kim Dokja responded.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. He sat back down and started eating again.

“Your family must be wondering why you didn’t come home last night, huh?”

Kim Dokja dropped his spoon, the metal creating a sharp chime when it hit the edge of the bowl. “I know what you’re doing, Joonghyuk. Mind your own fucking business,” he spat. “Forget whatever I said when I was delirious.”

“…I was just wondering.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s tone was depressing to a degree. “My parents usually don’t notice when I’m gone for a few hours.”

“Are we trauma dumping now?”

“I’m not trauma dumping.”

Yoo Joonghyuk went silent, leaving Kim Dokja a little dumbfounded that he actually stopped talking.

“Thank you for the food…and the bed..and the medication…,” Kim Dokja mumbled awkwardly.

“You’re welcome. Just stop putting yourself in near-death situations.”

“You’re exaggerating.” Kim Dokja placed his bowl in the sink before grabbing the sponge. “Where’s my stuff?”

“Upstairs, next to the bed.”

It didn’t take Kim Dokja long to gather his stuff and go back home, or wherever he was going. He didn’t need to leave right away. Despite the mild annoyance and frustration he caused, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t mind him. But, he left, leaving him alone once more.

Such a big house for one person. He preferred the last house his family lived in far more than this one. It was smaller. It felt like it was okay for one person to remain there. Now, the emptiness of the current house felt eerie, mocking even.

It was a space for a group of people, a family. Yet here he was, alone in the kitchen with his empty bowl.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed. It would’ve been nice if Yoo Mia was here. Even if she was fussing the entire time she was awake, it would be better than the solitude.

Yoo Joonghyuk washed up and made his way to his bedroom. To his surprise, the bed was made and the blanket was folded up neatly.

He plopped onto the bed without unfolding the covers and unfolded the blanket, burying himself under it. It was a routine he was far too used to.

Yoo Joonghyuk was a product of teen pregnancy. His parents had him young and worked nonstop to make a living. When he grew up enough, they stopped paying all that much attention to him.

He was alone, constantly. No matter how long he cried, his parents didn’t come home until their shift was over. Even then, they cooked, ate, cleaned up, and finally went to sleep.

Things changed when he was 8 years old. They moved into a nicer house and his parents were home more often. Yet, they never talked to him outside of his studies.

Then his mother was pregnant with Yoo Mia when he was about 10 years old. Yoo Joonghyuk was elated. He wouldn’t be alone anymore. He’d have a playmate, he’d be a great big brother, and they’d be one big happy family.

Then she was born. That’s when Yoo Joonghyuk finally realized that he wasn’t a part of his parents’ happy family.

Yoo Mia was doted on in ways he never imagined. They played with her, indulged in her antics, bought her toys, and got her pretty dresses to play princess in.

He was alone in the worst way possible. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t care for her. It seemed like she stole everything he was supposed to have, everything he wanted.

All he could wonder was ‘Why, why is it not me, but you?’

And then his parents were home less often, leaving Yoo Mia alone. Terrible really, who leaves a 4-year-old by themselves?

He couldn’t hate a child who was also to be a victim of their parents. That decision changed Yoo Joonghyuk for the better. He stepped up and cared for her. She was his family in this bundle of strangers.

Now, when it’s convenient, his parents rip her from him. His only family tossed here and there despite them not caring what she’s doing most times.

What was he supposed to do all alone?

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja kicked his shoes off and placed them on the shelf to the right of the door. He dragged his feet as he made his way to his room. He shut the door behind him, dropped his backpack, and slid down the door until he sat on the floor.

It had been a while since Kim Dokja had the house to himself. He sighed with relief. His father wasn’t home, which meant he could rest. Compared to yesterday, he felt better, but his body still felt heavy, his mind clouded, and his eyes felt dry and weighted. He wanted to sleep again.

Kim Dokja looked at the mattress on the floor. The worn-out sheets that covered it made him change his mind. The boy got up and rummaged through his drawers before heading to the bathroom. He opted to take a warm shower and change into a sweater.

When he came out, he sat on the one good piece of furniture he had in his room: his chair. Kim Dokja scooted his chair forward, grabbing his backpack to grab his books.

He had already wasted enough time being sick. If he didn’t want to fall behind further, he needed to start now. It was already bad enough that he had lost his spot as first place.

It was the first time he lost his first-place spot to Yoo Joonghyuk.

“It’s just a fluke, I shouldn’t have skimped on my studies just because I was the top of my class.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

Thankfully, his father left it as a scolding the first time.

Then the second time, he got lucky. Kim Dokja had come home after his second defeat. The same thing ran through his mind the entire day.

‘I studied so hard.’

‘All he ever does is play games before class! It doesn’t seem like he studies as much as I do either.’

‘What makes you better than me?’

When he came home, his father was already at the dinner table with his meal. One plate and one cup on his father’s side. He always had a light midafternoon meal since his work dinners took place late at night.

His father only looked up once before looking back down at his plate.

“Couldn’t manage first place, huh? Is this a second fluke?”

“I—“ Kim Dokja choked up.

“Second place is first loser, you know that.” His father cut into the food on his plate, the knife’s scraping creating a sharp sound that made Kim Dokja flinch. “Why are you still here? Go study.”

Kim Dokja squeezed his palms before turning around, leaving the house for the one place he could relax: the junkyard.

A dirty haven. A place where no one bothers him. When he gets there, he plops down onto his chair and grabs his cigarettes, and suddenly the stress of the day disappears. That’s until his cause of stress somehow makes its way into the junkyard.

Kim Dokja’s leg shook up and down. He gnawed on the eraser of his pencil. All he wanted was one cigarette. Just one—maybe then he would be able to focus on the jumble of letters in front of him.

He didn’t keep his cigarettes at home; they were always left in the junkyard. Even if Kim Dokja wanted one right now, he didn’t have any left. He smoked a few, then the rest got ruined by the rain. With an empty wallet like his, he wasn’t going to get a new pack anytime soon.

His father came with a few guests one night. It was unexpected; usually his father told him beforehand so he could clean the house and put on some nice clothes. During his clean-ups, he’d hide his pack of cigarettes. Stupidly enough, this time he left them on the couch—the couch of all places!

Kim Dokja made it a habit not to smoke in the house, of course, he’d get caught if he did. The scent sticks far too easily. So he’d slip the pack in his back pocket, go out for a bit, and come right back. It must’ve slipped out of his pocket when he sat on the couch.

His father led the guests to the living room. Kim Dokja watched closely. He knew his father spotted them. It was the way he looked into Kim Dokja’s eyes that sent a subtle shiver up his spine, making him uneasy.

His father sat down near the pack and snatched it nonchalantly before slipping it into the pocket of his pants.

“So this is your straight A student son you’ve been talking about?” One of the guests chuckled.

“Yes, yes,” his father continued. “He doesn’t disappoint, I barely need to parent him.”

“That’s wonderful, wish my son was like him,” the wife joked.

Kim Dokja could only awkwardly chuckle as they laughed away into the night. It came to an abrupt end when the door closed after their guests left, and his father’s fist connected with his face, causing him to fall back.

“Listen, I don’t give a damn if you smoke. Don’t leave your shit around the house, I don’t need you embarrassing me anymore than you already do,” his father spat. “I try to keep a good reputation for both of us.”

He threw the pack of cigarettes at him before storming off, leaving Kim Dokja disoriented on the floor. When he finally got up, he looked in the mirror to see a bruise forming. He sighed.

He didn’t go to school for the next three days.

At some point, Kim Dokja started to make sense of what he was reading. He made notes and some occasional explanations under them. It was far better than his scarce notes from when he was sick. He could tell when he started dozing off, the letters turned into scribbles before they stopped altogether.

He just needs to prevail. If he can reclaim first place—even if it’s for a little bit, he can take a little break. His father won’t be on his ass, his classmates whispers about him will die down, and maybe his mom—

…

He just needs to focus on the material before the next test. The last time Kim Dokja failed to reclaim the title of top of the class, his father grabbed him and punched him in the gut. He muttered something about laziness and motivation. He wasn’t listening. It was hard enough for something to rupture. He was puking blood for a little while.

Kim Dokja sighed and sat back in his seat.

“Why would Joonghyuk…,” he mumbled.

‘Why would he help me, of all people?’

Kim Dokja couldn’t stand his help. Yoo Joonghyuk was his problem after all—everything was fine until he moved here.

He could only think back to the time Yoo Joonghyuk took him to the nurse's office. How his dad eyed Yoo Joonghyuk—only did he realize then Yoo Joonghyuk was everything his dad wanted him to be.

Yoo Joonghyuk was tall, smart, and everything seemed to come easily to him. He was athletic too. His father would’ve preferred Yoo Joonghyuk over him if he had gotten to choose who his son was.

Kim Dokja was more of a burden and nuisance for his father. When his father picked him up from the nurse's office, he shut the door and started pacing around and shouting. He eventually threw a vase at him. Kim Dokja stumbled back and fell to the floor. Fortunately for him, it had only hit his leg, giving him a subtle limp for a few days.

His father saw Kim Dokja amongst the shards of the vase, and suddenly, he was a different person. Starkly different.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just angry. I had to leave my meeting early to come get you.” His father started stumbling on his words before he helped him up.

And Kim Dokja was a fool for falling for it every time. It was pleasant to have him care sometimes. It was a never-ending routine. His father would degrade him time and time again, and then would act like an apologetic and doting father after a couple of times.

Kim Dokja accepted it nonetheless. When his father put on his remorseful act, he’d give him some cash. It was a good bonus for the weeks of pain. It funded his nicotine and caffeine addiction.

Kim Dokja put his hands on his face before taking a deep breath. There was too much to do, too much to think about, and not enough energy to do either.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Kim Dokja unlocked his phone.

Joonghyuk

The notes you missed.

[5 Attachments]

Kim Dokja smiled tiredly as he slumped onto his desk.

“How am I supposed to hate you now?”