Work Text:
“As we’ve told you, Master…” Lee Jihye takes a deep breath then speaks with what seems to be her utmost serious expression, which might have been taken seriously had Joonghyuk’s ears not bled from this so many times before.
“... our company has a ghost, specifically in the QA department room, and it needs to be taken care of, Captain.” Kim Namwoon finishes for her like they are Dumb & Dumber.
Joonghyuk gives them an unimpressed glare before turning back to the bug report he has been writing, completely ignoring their indignant protests. They have been at this nonsense for a week straight, slacking on their work and being a hindrance to Joonghyuk’s own work in the process. He finishes the bug report along with sending a few emails to their partners about the current games’ beta progression; and when he looks up only to see Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon still standing at his desk, his patience finally runs dry.
“Kim Namwoon, where is the beta report for ‘Conquering of Olympus’ that you should’ve submitted 2 days ago? And Lee Jihye, yesterday, I told you to email Eden to ask about details of their upcoming game festival. Why haven’t they responded?”
“S-Sorry, Master!! But… the ghost scared us so much that we couldn’t focus!!”
“Right, Captain!! That report was done ages ago, but because that ghost kept haunting the QA department, I didn’t dare to go submit it to them…”
The two brats trail off and squirm under Joonghyuk’s even more unimpressed glare, cold enough to freeze Hell over with one look. He continues staring them down until Lee Jihye kneels down blabbering apologies and Kim Namwoon bursts into tears while begging for mercy, and Joonghyuk lets out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Lee Jihye, send the email immediately. Kim Namwoon, give me that report. It should’ve been submitted 2 days ago, and I may as well go myself to explain to the QA department about why it was late.” Joonghyuk then throws a withering look at them when they start looking hopeful. “Your reason for slacking off was stupid, so I’ll deduct all of your bonus salary this month.”
It’s almost hilarious how quickly the brats become devastated again, but they still yell at him to please help with chasing the ghost away and then he can deduct as much salary as he wants. Joonghyuk wonders if being game testers has the side effect of turning people delusional, and scowls as he tries to think of a reasonable excuse to explain to the QA department about the delayed report.
He expects them to be angry or at least annoyed, yet strangely enough, the QA manager, Jung Heewon, simply sighs with a defeated look. “Thank you for bringing us the report, Yoo Joonghyuk-nim, and to be honest, we’ve been quite… disturbed by weird events happening lately that we also can’t do anything much. As such, you don’t have to worry about the slight delay.”
“Weird events?” It’s one thing to hear this from the two immature brats, but when even the manager mentions this, along with others in the QA department grimacing slightly at her words, Joonghyuk can’t help but ask.
“Well, for example…” Jung Heewon bites her lips with apprehension. “For the past few days, I and the rest of my team have been feeling like there was one more person nearby, despite seeing nobody else.”
“... There was one day I clearly remembered leaving my headset on the printer because I was in a hurry. It was placed neatly on my desk when I came to work the next morning. I was the last to leave and first to come in.” Han Donghoon, a gloomy-looking boy whom Joonghyuk remembers as barely speaking, says all in one breath before placing his headset on and ignoring the world again.
“A week ago, we came back tired from a game festival and just threw all our stuff along with documents all around the room to all sleep on the floor afterward. Then we woke up to see everything neatly gathered - and even categorized.” Jang Hayoung sounds half-scared, half-impressed. Next to her, Han Donghoon flinches then curls into himself as he also seems to be remembering that.
“... Where do you feel ‘that’ presence most clearly? Here, or…” Joonghyuk looks around the QA room. It’s fairly spacious, but there doesn’t seem to be any corner where a ghost - if such a thing actually exists - can hide, as far as he sees.
“Inside the room over there, Joonghyuk-nim.” Jung Heewon points at the opposite of their current door, where an old-looking door with its paint falling off stands eerily, so jarringly different from the newer rest of the area. “From what little I know of what happened before we came here, that’s the old QA department room. But apparently, someone died there for some reason, and since then, it was always closed.”
She doesn’t say anything else for a while afterward, but Joonghyuk can tell the implications. “Do you mean to say that the ‘ghost’ is in that closed room?”
When they all flinch before reluctantly nodding, Joonghyuk places a hand on his forehead with a loud sigh. “... After work, I will go inside that room to see just what on earth is in there. Is that okay? And it’s not locked, just closed, correct? That must be how the ‘ghost’ could even come to your room in the first place.”
His declaration causes Han Donghoon to whip his head toward him in shock, Jang Hayoung to cover her mouth with a loud gasp, and Jung Heewon to stare at him both impressed and concerned; but they all agree to his request and tell him to be careful, which he snorts at. If that ghost tries anything, Joonghyuk is completely confident that he can easily beat it up. Besides, from what the QA department said, it doesn’t even seem to be a malicious ghost anyway if all it has done was to clean up after their messes.
Once the workday is over and the two nosy brats finally leave, Joonghyuk makes his way to the eerie old door, takes a deep breath, and swings it open. He expected for the room to be empty - surely, both his disciples and the QA people were joking around, because there’s no way for ghosts to exist in this world, right?
Instead, he sees a man wearing a black suit sitting on the windowsill.
Joonghyuk finds his mouth agape as the man looks up at him then turns to stare outside the windows again. He continues staring at that man (ghost?) in disbelief, and after a long while, perhaps having noticed the eyes on him, that ghost (man?) turns back. This time, it’s the ghost’s turn to blink in surprise at Joonghyuk before whispering in a mildly excited tone.
[What, so you can see me?]
“... You mean that the others - the QA department people, and my two subordinates - couldn’t see you this whole time?” Joonghyuk’s mouth feels dry as he musters every strength possible to ask that question, too bewildered to utilize his normally sharp mouth.
[No one could see me, before you.] The ghost - now he’s certain that this is a ghost - shakes his head in confirmation and chuckles in amusement. [Could your ‘subordinates’ be the ponytail girl and the chuunibyou-looking boy? I didn’t mean to scare them, but the other day, the QA room looked a bit messy so I cleaned up while everyone was in a meeting… and then those two saw the documents floating by themselves without anyone holding.]
So that was why those brats were so scared and didn’t even protest much when he threatened to deduct their bonus, Joonghyuk sighs again and decides to approach the ghost more closely. “How long have you been haunting this room? Who the hell are you?”
[Hmm… I’m not sure, but I remembered gaining consciousness two weeks ago. I could not do anything at first, only staring at this old dusty room, but then I slowly started being able to walk and eventually do more things.] The ghost places a thoughtful finger on his lips, then makes an apologetic smile. [As for your second question, sorry, but I don’t know exactly, either.]
“Did you… lose your memories after death or something?”
[Perhaps I did? I can’t remember how or when I died, either. The only thing I can still recall is my name. ‘Kim Dokja.’]
The ghost - no, Kim Dokja - emits a cold feeling. Not a chill down one’s spine, but a literal coldness similar to that of dead bodies, and Joonghyuk shudders when he feels it after placing his hand on Kim Dokja’s shoulder out of curiosity. The man’s eyes widen with excitement again, looking too lively for someone who’s dead. [And you can touch me as well?! … Or perhaps others could touch me, too, but they got scared enough just feeling my presence that I didn’t dare try touching them, lest they get even more terrified…]
Joonghyuk feels like he’s gone insane. The ‘ghost’ he assumed to be no more than bullshit from his disciples not only turned out to be real, but he’s casually talking to Joonghyuk as if it’s normal. As if they are just two people potentially making acquaintances, not separated by the barrier between life and death.
After a long silence, Joonghyuk’s voice sounds pathetically small when he finally speaks again. “... In short, you don’t remember anything about yourself except your name, you don’t wish to scare anyone and just want to help them if they need it, and no one but me can see or hear you.”
[You got it.] Kim Dokja winks charmingly - again, far too alive for a ghost.
“... In that case, come with me to our room tomorrow. My stupid disciples are being too distracted by your presence that they’re doing a piss-poor job at work.”
[And you’re so mad at their poor performance that you’re swearing.] The ghost’s bright grin suddenly dims a little. [But I can’t seem to go anywhere further than around the two QA rooms, or around this floor at most. Is your department’s room on this floor?]
“It’s not. In that case, however, I’ll just bring them here. You may as well explain to them about who you are once and for all, so they can stop with their bullcrap and work properly.” Joonghyuk scowls as he remembers how pissed he was when their progress was delayed for this - admittedly real, but still stupid - reason.
[They can’t see me, though. Won’t you have to tell them what I’m saying, like some kind of special ghost-interpreter?]
“As annoying as that may be, yes.”
[You guys are so amusing, just like the QA people.] Kim Dokja lets out a cheerful laugh, one that seems to brighten the dusty dark room so much that Joonghyuk can’t help but stare. [Alright then. I’ll be waiting here - not like I can go anywhere, anyway. In the meantime, shouldn’t you go home? It’s pretty dark outside.]
Joonghyuk’s already achieved his purpose for coming here, after all, so it’s indeed only right that he goes home. Yet, a strange part in him feels… hurt at the thought of leaving this ghost by himself in this dark room, even if Kim Dokja must be used to that already. Then he’s suddenly reminded of the delayed workload waiting for him at home, and Joonghyuk reluctantly turns around. “... I will bring my disciples here tomorrow.”
[Have a safe trip home.] Kim Dokja waves at him from where he’s still sitting on the windowsill, his pale ghostly face illuminated by the warm moonlight from outside. Joonghyuk stares at that sight for a bit more, trying to sear it into his memory, before finally having the heart to leave.
===
For a ghost story, everything ends in a rather anti-climactic way afterward. Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon were protesting and clutching on each other in fear when Joonghyuk dragged them to the closed door; yet, they recovered strangely fast once Kim Dokja explained things (through Joonghyuk, the reluctant interpreter) and quickly turn back to their usual noisy, excitable selves. The QA department people also took Kim Dokja’s explanation (again, through Joonghyuk) surprisingly well, and ended up thanking that ghost for his help in the past few weeks before going on with their work, looking much better and less scared.
It is so normal and casual that, just like Joonghyuk already felt on the first day they met, it’s almost as if Kim Dokja isn’t a ghost at all, instead simply another person in their company. Well, one that no one except Joonghyuk can see and talk to, but is still a helpful and nice person nevertheless. While the QA department and his own team have decided not to tell anyone else about Kim Dokja lest it needlessly complicates things, they still can’t help but attempt to talk to the man whenever possible and get excited when he responds non-verbally by lifting things up or helping them with small, simple requests.
Joonghyuk, as the only one who can see and hear Kim Dokja, frequently squeezes in some time to stay back at work and comes to the old room to chat with him, even with his hellish schedule. Kim Dokja will firmly tell him to take better care of his health, then smile and gratefully thank him nevertheless for taking the time to come here, before talking Joonghyuk’s ears off either about what the QA people did that day, or asking him about his job. Throughout all those times, Joonghyuk speaks little, not because he doesn’t enjoy their conversations but because he would rather listen to Kim Dokja more.
“Do you still really not remember anything else about yourself? For example, were you also a QA at this company before you died? That may explain why you haunted the QA room.” Joonghyuk asks one day after it has been a week since they met but Kim Dokja still doesn’t have much else to say about himself.
The man (it feels wrong to merely think of him as a ghost now) frowns and becomes silent for a moment. Joonghyuk doesn’t know if he should feel disappointed or expected when Kim Dokja ends up just shaking his head apologetically. [While it’s true that I do have some knowledge about QA work, enough to help the QA people sort out their documents or give feedback; I still don’t have any concrete memory to say that I worked here once. Sorry, Yoo Joonghyuk. But your theory sounds reasonable, so maybe that’s the case.]
“... I hope so.”
[And, I mean, you’ve been working here for a long time, haven’t you? Wouldn’t you remember someone like me if I did work here before?] Kim Dokja turns to him with curious, endearing wide eyes.
“No, I’m not an official employee with MinoSoft. Our team have only moved here three weeks ago to work due to our partnership contract.”
Joonghyuk briefly thinks back to how he didn’t want to agree to the contract at first due to the company’s lack of notable achievements and short age, but then changed his mind after seeing one of their games, ‘Ancient Dreamer and an Eternal Story.’ It wasn’t a conventionally good game by any means - the graphics was poor, bugs were prevalent, there was no voice acting, and it was not well optimized. It’s almost as though only one single developer worked on it without receiving any help.
At first, he only intended to play it to see how bad it was. And yet… the plot and storytelling was amazing. Joonghyuk didn’t want to admit to anyone else that he had outright teared up at the ending, where the main character ‘Most Ancient Dream’ finally got his wish to live together with his favorite protagonist for the rest of time, after eons of sufferings for them both. Even Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon bawled their eyes out, which is really saying something considering how carefree and… tactless they usually were.
He then signed the contract in hope of finding the developer who made this game. Yet, when Joonghyuk brought up that game to the devs, they looked at him with surprise and stated that the game was supposed to be discarded long ago, but they forgot and somehow it showed up in the list MinoSoft gave him. When he tried to push further and asked who made this game, one of the devs replied in a flustered voice that it was an old employee from around 2 years ago. But the higher-ups never answered them when they asked, either, so they also didn’t know anything to tell him.
Would the mysterious developer be Kim Dokja somehow? That would be a most contrived coincidence, except that the man in question doesn’t remember anything to confirm that.
[I see.] Kim Dokja nods at his earlier answer. [Maybe you can ask the people here about me? If I used to work here, they might know something.]
“... But then I’ll have to reveal that you’re currently a ghost here. What if something then goes wrong…” He feels an unpleasant knot forming in his stomach at the thought of anything happening to Kim Dokja.
[Are you worried about me? You’re so cute, Joonghyuk-ah.] The bastard pats Joonghyuk’s head with his cold ghostly hand and just laughs when it’s swat away. [But surely, just asking shouldn’t hurt? If it helps you know more about me, it’s only a good thing, right?]
Kim Dokja’s face looks so optimistic and bright that Joonghyuk is almost inclined to agree, if not because he’s abruptly reminded of a certain cliche in ghost stories. “... In novels, the reason a ghost is stuck in the living world is usually from regret over something they didn’t do in life. And once they remember that, they’ll disappear.”
[... Are you insinuating that the same might happen to me?]
“...”
Taking the silence as confirmation, Kim Dokja places a musing finger on his lips while leaning back so that his left shoulder touches Joonghyuk’s own. Despite the literally cold shoulder, Joonghyuk feels heat creeping on his cheeks.
When Kim Dokja speaks again, his voice is a soft, gentle whisper. [Even if that’ll really be the case, I won’t mind that. It’s good to let go of past regrets if I had any… and if I disappear, I’ll have the memories with you to keep me company, Joonghyuk-ah.]
The heat on Joonghyuk’s face only gets worse at those words, bad enough that he has to make an excuse to stand up and leave afterward so Kim Dokja won’t notice anything amiss. Yet, he can’t deny how his heart has simultaneously warmed and ached with a strange longing feeling for that lonely ghost. How ridiculous - he hasn’t even known Kim Dokja for that long, and yet…
===
Fearing that Kim Dokja will disappear if he regains his memories, Joonghyuk ends up not asking the older MinoSoft personnel about him. A part of Joonghyuk scorns him for purposefully imprisoning Kim Dokja in the living world on purpose just so he won’t have to be alone. A bigger, louder part of him protests that he wants Kim Dokja to stay, even with this selfish method.
It also doesn’t help that at this point, nearly two months after Kim Dokja was found in the old room, both the QA department and his two disciples have become fond of that man. Han Donghoon and Jang Hayoung often jump around in their seats in excitement whenever they see signs of Kim Dokja also being in the room, Jung Heewon often says thanks aloud every time Kim Dokja helps them with anything despite being unable to see or hear his confirmation; and Kim Namwoon along with Lee Jihye only become even more distracted from their work when they keep going to the old room to play with Kim Dokja, enough that Joonghyuk has to drag them back screaming sometimes.
Everything just feels too pleasant and peaceful, with Kim Dokja’s presence making all of their lives more enjoyable. Surely, this nice little bubble doesn’t have to burst? And can it even be called ‘imprisoning’ Kim Dokja if the man is also perfectly fine being in the ‘living world’ with them? Wouldn’t it be worse to instead force him to leave this world, with nothing but emptiness waiting for him afterward?
Joonghyuk selfishly convinces himself of that, obsessively squeezes as much time being with Kim Dokja as he can possibly have left, and often tries to divert the conversation whenever it goes into directions that may potentially lead that man to recover his memories. In his desperation, his attempts are not subtle in the slightest and must be painfully obvious to Kim Dokja as well, judging by the way that man sometimes stare at him with knowing eyes that he can’t bring himself to look straight back at.
[Joonghyuk-ah,] Kim Dokja gently asks one night, when Joonghyuk stays back after work again just so he can see the sight of this man being basked in the moonlight, [you really don’t want me to leave this world, do you?]
The blunt question shakes Joonghyuk to the core, filling him with deep shame and guilt, and causing him to hastily blurt out incoherent words. “Kim Dokja, I… It’s not what you think-”
A cold ghostly finger is placed on his lips, and Joonghyuk shuts his mouth immediately to instead be captivated by Kim Dokja’s impossibly fond gaze. [I’m not mad at you, don’t worry. To be honest… I also like it here. It may get lonely during working hours when no one is here, but when they can make time to go see me, it’s really fun. And especially you, who always keep me company, Joonghyuk-ah.]
“... Do you genuinely feel happy to be here in the living world with us? And… with me?” Joonghyuk unconsciously inches closer to the man.
[Yes.] Kim Dokja also leans his head closer. [I’m happy. So much that I wish I could’ve met you when I was alive rather than in death like this.]
Their first kiss is one of the strangest things Joonghyuk has ever experienced - it’s deadly cold but also weirdly soft in an ethereal way, the harsh coldness pins him to reality but the weird intangible feeling makes it feel like it’s all just a dream. He has to immediately open his eyes to make sure, and only calms down once greeted by the sight of Kim Dokja’s big eyes, crinkled in a smile.
It’s also only then that everything finally sinks in - of all things to do, Joonghyuk has fallen in love with a ghost, something that’s never meant to last considering the barrier between life and death. His body shakes from the desperation and horror of it all, pathetically collapsing on Kim Dokja’s cold one, who simply hugs him with a sad, understanding look. They stay like that for a long while without a word, and Joonghyuk tries to squeeze the man’s ghostly body as tightly as he can while organizing the messy thoughts in his head.
If he has genuinely come to love Kim Dokja, there’s no longer any justification for selfishly forcing that man to stay in this world. Whether Kim Dokja will disappear after remembering his past or not, he still has the rights to know details of his life properly. Joonghyuk holds onto Kim Dokja for a bit more so he can sear the feeling of touching him into his memory, before reluctantly letting go.
He suddenly thinks back to the game that was the reason their team worked with MinoSoft in the first place, which he always keeps in his laptop, and wonders if he can perhaps let Kim Dokja look at it just to see.
“... Kim Dokja, I told you that I wasn’t an official MinoSoft employee and only signed a contract, didn’t I? It was because of this game.” Joonghyuk takes out his laptop and boots up the game, causing Kim Dokja to inch closer to the screen in curiosity. “Can you look to see if you will remember anything from this?”
Kim Dokja is at first amused and interested, but when the game starts unfolding more, he begins to squeeze his eyes shut with a frown, along with gripping his head as though in immense pain.
“What’s wrong?!” Joonghyuk immediately pauses the game to ask, but Kim Dokja weakly reaches out a shaky hand to resume it.
[N-No… Keep playing, Joonghyuk-ah. S-Something is flashing in my head.]
Despite being deeply concerned, Joonghyuk has to keep playing at the insistent look. The closer the game is to the ‘end,’ the more pained Kim Dokja looks, and also somehow increasingly colder. By the time the ‘ending’ finishes playing out, there’s nothing but spite and hatred on his face.
Joonghyuk places the laptop away and puts a hand on Kim Dokja’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort, but the man then collapses to the ground.
[I remember now… The QA department’s former head, Yoon Sihoon. That guy…] Those whispered words are all Joonghyuk can hear before Kim Dokja closes his eyes.
===
Joonghyuk practically tears down the entire MinoSoft headquarter after that in his search for anyone who’s still staying at the company at this hour, to demand answers about Kim Dokja and that QA department head he mentioned. The finance department head, Han Myungoh, ends up being the unlucky target of his wrath.
“Yoo Joonghyuk-nim, calm down!! Ack- Please- Don’t choke me!! I- I’ll answer whatever you want!!”
“Tell me about Kim Dokja, a QA employee who used to work here and had died after. And does the guy named Yoon Sihoon has anything to do with his death?”
“K-Kim Dokja?! How did you know that guy- Ack- Ack!! Please let me go!!” Han Myungoh scrambles and tries to speak amidst his coughing. “H- He used to work here, yes, and his last work was that game you asked about when you first came here, ‘Ancient Dreamer and an Eternal Story’... As for the ex-QA head, Mr. Yoon… I don’t know very well either, but… there was a rumor about how Kim Dokja died because Mr. Yoon overworked him to death… Please don’t look at me like that!! I wasn’t personally involved, that’s just what I heard…”
“Where is Yoon Sihoon now?” Joonghyuk tries to control himself so the burning anger he’s feeling won’t seep into his voice.
“Mr. Yoon… he was imprisoned shortly after Kim Dokja’s death, apparently for illegally running a game pirate chain and embezzling the development funds of many of our games… The timing of it was so coincidental that we believed he was also involved with Kim Dokja’s death, but… the higher-ups forced us to never speak of that to anyone, so… A-Anyway, I told you all I know, so please don’t tell anyone else that I told you, okay?!”
Not bothering to acknowledge the screaming Han Myungoh afterward, Joonghyuk frantically runs back to the abandoned old QA room. When he finally gets back, a sense of relief washes over him to see Kim Dokja now awake and sitting up, only to be filled with dread again once he notices how the man’s body is slowly becoming transparent.
[Joonghyuk-ah, that game… I was the one who created it. How wonderful it is that you end up liking it so much, because… I made it with you in mind. I imagined myself as the main character, ‘Most Ancient Dream,’ and you were his favorite protagonist.] There’s a distant look on Kim Dokja’s face as he begins softly.
Joonghyuk stumbles to where the man sits and clutches his hands tightly, afraid of Kim Dokja disappearing at any moment. To his further displeasure, Kim Dokja doesn’t seem to even have the strength to grip his hands back now, instead continuing to speak with an increasingly weak voice.
[I had admired you for a long time, ever since you first started your pro-gamer career. It was also why I decided to work here, in hope that one day, I could help create such a good game that you would sign a contract with us, so I could see and talk to you more. That game was my proudest of my various attempts, and… I made the mistake of introducing it to everyone there, because Yoon Sihoon found it a good target to exploit.]
It’s almost amazing how spite radiates so clearly from Kim Dokja’s tone despite how weak it is now. [At the time, Yoon Sihoon was operating his illegal game pirate chain, and embezzled so much of the QA department’s funds to make it work. Thus, he proceeded to also cut down on personnels and force me to finish the game all by myself, with no one’s help. I protested at first, yet he then promised that if I did a good job, he would make sure to invite you over for a contract… And, like an idiot, I endured.]
Kim Dokja shakes his head with sad eyes and pats Joonghyuk’s cheek when he notices how Joonghyuk’s face turn horrified at that. [Joonghyuk-ah, none of this was your fault, so don’t look like that. I was the idiot for blindly trusting that guy and allowing him to wring me dry. And just to make it worse, one day, I accidentally walked into Yoon Sihoon talking over the phone with someone about their embezzling plan, so…]
The sheer coldness in Kim Dokja’s voice makes the room drop several degrees. [He locked me in this room. It just had to be when working hours were over and no one was there aside from us, so no matter how much I screamed, no one could help. Adding to that, I hadn’t eaten for days from overworking on the game, so…]
“Then… you starved to death here.” Joonghyuk doesn’t even know how his voice isn’t shaking when his whole body is.
[Yes.] The man bitterly chuckles. [And you know the rest - I knew nothing for years afterward, and only woke up recently. Hmm… now that I remember, I woke up around the same time your team went to work here, didn’t I? It’s nice to think that your presence has saved me.] Some warmth briefly returns to Kim Dokja’s expression and he gently cups Joonghyuk’s cheeks.
“... Kim Dokja, you… You keep fading away.” Joonghyuk’s voice cracks as he places his hands on the man’s own and notices how he barely feels like they are touching anymore.
[It looks like your theory about me disappearing once I get back my memories is true after all.] A bright smile, full of nothing but love and adoration, blooms on Kim Dokja’s face when he leans closer. [I’m sorry that everything has to end like this, but… Thank you so much, Joonghyuk-ah, for having been in my life. For coming here. And for liking the game I made for you.]
[May we meet again in another universe.]
The feeling of Kim Dokja’s lips on his own is so faint that it’s barely there, and no matter how much Joonghyuk tries to grip him, Kim Dokja disappears into the moonlight coming from the windows.
Joonghyuk feels hot tears running down his face, but they can’t do anything to warm the coldness left behind.