falling
Shit, he thinks, as the ground rushes up to meet him.
His knobby knees crash painfully, hands slipping as he tries to catch himself. His right cheek meets the floor with a discourteous thunk. He can feel his brain rattling in his skull.
That could've gone smoother.
Laughs follow him to the ground, "What an idiot!" His bullies roar, unrepentant. Song Minwoo's foot presses down on his spine.
"What's the point of running, anyway? It's not like you get anywhere by escaping us. You might as well endure, or else the beating the next day'll only be worse," he threatens. One of Song Minwoo's friends dig a foot into his side.
"Maybe, I just can't stand the sight of your ugly mug, thought of that before?" Kim Dokja says from the floor. He barely keeps his voice from trembling.
They give pause for a moment, bristling, like they can't believe Kim Dokja still has the will to say something like that. If 'making things worse for oneself' was a skill, Kim Dokja would be a master at said skill.
"You must have a death wish," he hears one of them say, tone colored with astonishment. "You're so pathetic, you probably do, actually."
Kim Dokja curls his fist on the ground.
"No one would blame you, having a murderer for a mother and being such a goddamn loser..." Song Minwoo shakes his head in mock shame, and like clockwork, they're laughing again.
"You should just jump off a building again and kill yourself, maybe this time you'll succeed at one thing in life at least," another snickers.
No one loves you, they say.
No one loves you, Kim Dokja reminds himself.
He grits his teeth, so they won't be knocked out in the ensuing, customary beat down.
He curls into a ball as best as he can, but the blows don't soften. He covers his head with his arms, drawing his legs close, falling back to immersing himself in anything but his own story, his own story which has the unfortunate genre of 'life.'
Kim Dokja thinks of Yoo Joonghyuk--the novel protagonist, his savior.
.
.
.
Murderer. Your mother murdered your father. She's a murderer.
MurderermurderermurdererMUR--
You should just die, you eyesore.
.
.
.
He likes to imagine that if he lived in the same world as Yoo Joonghyuk, that he'd matter. He imagines he'd be his trusted ally, though he'd settle for being an insignificant plot device, too--anything, really.
Kim Dokja tries not to make it his hobby to daydream about things that can never become true, but he can't help it sometimes.
It hurts.
It's after what feels like forever that Song Minwoo and his team of misfits leave him be in some back alley, and he can finally breathe again.
He looks at himself, taking inventory. His clothes were already ragged before, so he takes comfort in the fact that they can't get much worse now. He can tell there's a brand spanking new bruise on his cheek without looking.
Kim Dokja starts the long trek back to his school, for the bag he left behind in his rush to get away. He can only hope that none of Song Minwoo's crew took the time to make him extra miserable by throwing his bag into a puddle.
As he sets off at a lilting pace, he kicks a pebble along the road. He watches it skip into the orange lighted horizon, its shadow is long and dark. A feeling kicks him in the gut (metaphorically) that causes him to follow after and pick up the jagged little rock. He stores it in his pocket, feeling a weird sense of camaraderie with it--as pathetic as it is, he can't help it after getting kicked into a rag himself.
Relating to a pebble, I've reached a new low, he thinks to himself, half feeling the urge to laugh.
By the time he's gotten back to where he left his bag, the sun has disappeared from view. He bathes in its dying glow.
It seems the universe is looking on him favorably today, because his bag seems to be untouched in the dark web-filled corner he'd thrown it in. He picks the biggest of the cobwebs off of his bag before he gets a move on--back 'home.'
From a shabbily sewn hidden pocket in his bag (one he'd made after a particularly traumatizing incident involving Song Minwoo and his troop of tyrants, in which he realized his phone was probably the one thing he couldn't afford to lose, both literally and figuratively)--he takes out his phone and reads 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.'
.
.
.
Kim Dokja remembers the day he jumped out a window, but he doesn't remember how many stories he fell. Just that it was enough to leave him bedridden for a over a week. It was during that week that he stumbled across 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.'
Without it, he doesn't think he'd be here today.
He owes his life to tls123, in a way, though he (or she) likely doesn't know it.
He would still have fallen in love with the novel, and with Yoo Joonghyuk, to fill the void inside of him, probably with or without the window jumping.
This novel is the only thing Kim Dokja has, and in a way, Kim Dokja is all the novel has as its sole reader.
He tucks his phone into his secret pocket when the house comes into view. If he's lucky, he'll be able to sneak something from the kitchen for dinner that isn't bland and probably expired.
.
.
.
That night, he goes to sleep hungry anyway, sustained only by the words on his dimly lit screen.
.
.
.
Night passes.
He wakes up in the morning, as people do in the morning, and goes about doing his morning routine. Sneaking into the kitchen to take something for breakfast before anyone can wake up, brushing his teeth quickly, and leaving to go to the dingy local park, before school and the cycle of torture begins anew.
Kim Dokja does exactly this, right down to the letter.
He walks into the park, apple in hand, and the park is not empty.
He freezes, ice in his veins, a familiar sense of panic. Did one of Song Minwoo's friends find out his hiding spot and decide to ambush him? Is that it?
Dammit.
He'd kind of liked this park.
Kim Dokja backs slowly, attempting to retreat into the shadows. The ambusher hasn't spotted him yet, so he has a head start.
His foot lands on a stray branch. It snaps.
Stupid! His head screams at him.
The head of the ambusher, sitting on the slide, twists around. They lock eyes and recognition sparks in the other's eyes. He stands up from his spot scarily fast.
Kim Dokja gulps and runs like hell is chasing him.
"Wait--!" His chaser says, before taking off after him.
Why the hell would I wait, dimwit??
Kim Dokja gets tackled to the ground in a matter of seconds, like the other person teleported on him. It's only one person, not a whole group, I have a chance of escaping, runs through his mind. He tries to struggle out of the hold.
"Kim Dokja." A voice comes.
"What do you want?" He asks, trying to elbow the ambusher.
"Stop elbowing me."
Kim Dokja elbows him harder. "I will, if you let go."
The frown the other person makes is audible.
"Okay, if you don't run away."
So you can get reinforcements?
"I'm telling you to let me go so I can run away, are you stupid?"
The comment goes completely over the ambusher's head. Kim Dokja reaches the conclusion that yes, he must be stupid. "...Fine." Kim Dokja acquiesces, if only so that he can trick him and attempt to run again.
The ambusher lets him up, slowly--and dare he say it, hesitantly. He knows he's a twig, his physical appearance doesn't betray his true strength at all--so he wonders--why would a bully be nervous?
It's then, when he sees the other person's face, that he realizes he's never seen him before, which means he's not a part of Song Minwoo's gang.
Kim Dokja rules out the possibility that he may be newly indicted--he's... to say it delicately, far too pretty. Anyone would think he's the true head of the group if he stood next to Song Minwoo, who hates to be upended. He'd never let this boy in his gang, let alone let him stand near him.
The rising sun casts the boy's jaw and cheek bones in shadows, it makes him look prettier and Kim Dokja had never considered the possibility he might be gay. There's a strange, ethereal feeling of age in the boy's eyes.
Must be a trick of the light, he thinks. His thought proves to be true when the look disappears when he blinks.
"What do you want?" He decides to ask again. Even if the other guy is terribly handsome (he tries not to look directly at his face) it doesn't mean he's trustworthy. Kim Dokja won't can't fall for just some pretty face. He's dumb, but not dumb enough to do that.
"I..."
Kim Dokja lets his gaze flicker up to the boy's. His eyes are too intense, so he looks away before he can be sucked into them.
"I am Yoo Joonghyuk."
His head feels strange.
The name registers, and his blood freezes over again. Doubt, confusion, he wonders if he's still in reality. He wonders if it's just a coincidence. Kim Dokja thinks, it must be. It can't be anything else.
Yoo Joonghyuk's hand grasps his wrist, tight.
"I'm... I..." Kim Dokja stutters, dumbstruck.
"Make me your companion."
Make me your companion.
It's such a chuuni way to talk. Kim Dokja is still dumbstruck, staring at him (he doesn't know when he had looked back up). The boy is wearing his school's uniform, and he has never seen him before; this complete stranger.
"What kind of joke is this?" He asks him. Maybe his earlier deductions were wrong, and this boy really is a new addition to Song Minwoo's group. Maybe they told this 'Yoo Joonghyuk' to pretend to do this, to trick him. This boy, way out of his league by looks alone. They must've caught a glimpse of the protagonist's name from his screen while he was reading.
What a cruel joke.
Kim Dokja's face twists. He pulls at his wrist, trying to dislodge 'Yoo Joonghyuk.' The grip remains steadfast.
"It's not a joke," his immaculate eyebrows furrow, creating wrinkles. "Why would I joke about my name?"
"Let go of me," he near growls. He looks away from the boy's face.
"How do I convince you I'm not joking?" He asks.
"Not possible, you bastard."
Kim Dokja isn't an idiot. He isn't. He isn't. And because he isn't an idiot, he won't get his hopes up.
Companion? Don't make me laugh.
'Yoo Joonghyuk' glares at him, before he sees the sorry half eaten apple on the ground. It's irrecoverable after rolling in the dirt. His grip tightens even more at the sight, his lips flatten.
His hold is still gentle.
Even as the other boy begins walking, dragging Kim Dokja along--wait what?
"Hey! Stop, where are you bringing me?"
"Breakfast."
What the hell.
"Are you going to force feed me garlic or something? Poison food and give it to me?"
"No."
True to his words, they go to the store around the corner. Kim Dokja can't believe this decrepit bastard.
Not only is 'Yoo Joonghyuk' a literal piece of art, he's also a piece of art, mentally. Kim Dokja decides to stop resisting, if only because there's no point (and he's hungry, he hasn't eaten a thing in the past 24 hours, other than the few bites from his apple). The store's flooring is dull and scuffed, muted light reflecting off it. It's early enough in the morning that there's no one in the vicinity.
'Yoo Joonghyuk' tugs him to baked goods aisle and begins inspecting the various things there. Most of these, Kim Dokja has never eaten--simply because of how overpriced it is. He still can't believe this is happening.
The boy holding his wrist picks up two bakery styled buns with barbecue pork filling. They're baked golden brown on the top, speckled with black sesame seeds.
"Why are you doing this?" Kim Dokja asks him.
'Yoo Joonghyuk' twists around to look at him, they stop walking. "You need to eat more." As if to prove his point, he glances toward his bony wrist. The fingers wrapped around it touch, even going as far as to overlap.
The answer makes Kim Dokja want to pull his hair out.
"What, so you're feeding me? We've just met you know, you're supposed to ask me out on a date first."
'Yoo Joonghyuk' doesn't sneer at him, or push him to the ground to beat him--he only gives him a short glare, something unreadable in his eyes. He looks away and begins walking without gracing him with a response.
"You're too quiet."
"You're too loud."
"You--"
They reach the checkout. 'Yoo Joonghyuk' pays for the buns with little fanfare, handing the tired cashier a few paper bills, and they leave. Standing outside, in the cold morning air, Kim Dokja finds himself with a meat bun in hand and a very, very strange person at his other side.
"Eat," the decrepit bastard orders.
Kim Dokja looks at him warily, before he opens the plastic packaging and takes a bite of the bun. It's rich and tastes far too good, he tries to chew slower.
"...Is your name really Yoo Joonghyuk? You aren't trying to trick me?"
"Yes." The boy responds over plastic crinkling noises as he unwraps his own bread bun.
Can Kim Dokja trust him? Should he trust him?
"You don't know Song Minwoo?" He questions.
"Song Minwoo?" 'Yoo Joonghyuk''s eyebrows crease. "No."
"But you go to my school," Kim Dokja's eyes flicker to his uniform pointedly.
"I'm new."
Oh, Kim Dokja thinks. He was right, this boy is new--which explains why he's never seen him before. This 'Yoo Joonghyuk' must not know who he is, had seen his uniform, and thought to become friends with someone at his new school beforehand. It's perfectly logical. It makes everything make far more sense.
"If you want to know someone before you start at school, you should choose someone other than me." Kim Dokja looks at his tattered shoes as he takes another bite out of the bun this boy bought him. He feels sorry. "You'll get made fun of if you're with me, so--" 'made fun of' is a grave understatement.
"You don't have to worry about it," his tone is wholly unconcerned. "If that happens, I'll ki... beat them up."
Kim Dokja scoffs, incredulous. "On your own?"
'Yoo Joonghyuk' might be just a tad over confident.
"Song Minwoo has ten people in his gang, do the math," Kim Dokja says. "Why needlessly pick a losing fight for some guy you've known for less than an hour?"
The boy's eyes are, once again, unreadable. Kim Dokja has no idea what he's thinking. Maybe he really is mentally unwell? He takes another bit out of the pork bun and savors the feeling of meat on his tongue, he resists the temptation to devour the whole thing in two bites.
Damn it, he doesn't want 'Yoo Joonghyuk' to get picked on by Song Minwoo, not like him.
"I'm saying, as compensation for breakfast, that you should stay away from me," he insists.
"Is the bruise on your face from them?" The boy asks instead of giving him a reluctant agreement.
"Yeah, and so are a lot of my other bruises, so--"
A hot fire flares suddenly in the boy's eyes, and it looks... a lot like anger. For a moment, Kim Dokja is afraid 'Yoo Joonghyuk' is mad at him for some reason, but he quickly realizes it's the opposite.
Maybe he isn't mentally unwell, maybe--
Maybe he's just a good person, a part of him wonders at the concept.
Don't get your hopes up, Kim Dokja rehearses in his mind.
.
.
.
They walk back to the park, not once does 'Yoo Joonghyuk' let go of his wrist, it feels warm.
Don't get used to it.
.
.
.
8:30 arrives with the start of school. Today, Kim Dokja doesn't know what to expect (or more like he does, he just doesn't want to). 'Yoo Joonghyuk' will either get beaten up by Song Minwoo while trying to defend him, then leave when he realizes Kim Dokja isn't worth it, or when he sees how pathetic Kim Dokja is, he won't even bother.
One of Song Minwoo's friends greet him by stepping on his shoelace, he stumbles and barely manages to not land on his face.
Sometimes, on some days, his desk is covered with marker. This is one of those days.
Loser
You should just die, no one likes you
Murderer's son
His gut always twists, always. Kim Dokja wonders when he'll get used to it, if he ever will.
Maybe it's better that he doesn't get used to it, because when he does, it'll be then that he'll have truly lost.
Part of him wouldn't care if he lost. That part of him that pushed him to open a window, look down at the ground far below, and say--'No one cares, so it won't matter.' That part of him that let go of the window ledge, let go of his inhibitions, let go of his life, let it plummet--Kim Dokja remembers what it felt like, to fall. To feel the wind, to feel freed and to feel that deep, horrifying relief.
Kim Dokja wants to live, though. There's a part that didn't let go. There's a part of him that holds on desperately, whose window ledge is the novel called 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.'
Live.
The 'Dokja' that stands for 'alone' hasn't disappeared, but because the 'Dokja' that stands for 'reader' exists, he can't (shouldn't) let go of his window ledge, not again.
He rests his arm on his desk to cover the words in bold, so they won't echo in his mind each time he sees them. His uniform is second-hand and two sizes too large, so the sleeves do the job easily.
The teacher comes in to begin class. With her, comes a boy. Handsome, sharp eyed, perfect skin and perfect face. Kim Dokja clenches and unclenches his fists.
"We have a new transfer student today," she says, smiling. "His name is Yoo Joonghyuk, introduce yourself." She whispers the second part to the boy, resting a hand on his shoulder, looking expectant.
"Yoo Joonghyuk. I don't like talking."
Kim Dokja wonders, what kind of a crappy introduction is this? The girls in his class swoon at the boy anyway--at Yoo Joonghyuk--he guesses he hadn't been lying about his name after all.
"What else? That can't be all." One of the girls say, Kim Dokja is pretty sure she's fluttering her eyelashes.
Yoo Joonghyuk looks unimpressed.
"...I'm also Kim Dokja's friend. That's all."
Kim Dokja blinks when all the eyes in the classroom land on him. Did he just hear that right?
He breathes in, holds the air in his lungs, and feels his soul leave his body when he exhales. What does Yoo Joonghyuk think he's doing? That bastard!
The teacher nods serenely, "Yoo Joonghyuk, you can sit at the desk by--"
Yoo Joonghyuk was already moving before the teacher spoke, he interrupts her sentence with a word.
"Move," he says.
He's standing in front of one of Song Minwoo's friends. As if he didn't just screw over his social life within the first minute of transferring to this school via association with Kim Dokja, he's also singled out one of Song Minwoo's friends and told him to move of all things.
This absolute moron!--
"Joong... Joonghyuk-ah, you're supposed to be sitting at the desk in front," he whisper-yells.
Kim Dokja gets a flat stare for his troubles.
Song Minwoo's friend looks flustered somehow, it's not a common look. He decides it must be the shock from seeing Yoo Joonghyuk's unparalleled beauty up close.
"Wh...Why the hell should I?" He manages to recover.
Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes turn dark. He stares down at Song Minwoo's friend, tilting his chin up slightly. Even Kim Dokja is kind of intimidated, and the stare isn't being directed at him. Yoo Joonghyuk's victim looks alarmed, unconsciously sinking into his chair.
"Er, boys?" The teacher's smile is twitching.
"He's getting up to switch spots with me," Yoo Joonghyuk states, not breaking the stare.
"Uh. Yeah. Yeah! I'll just get up." Song Minwoo's friend stands up, chair screeching against the ground as he picks up his bag to move. Yoo Joonghyuk is noticeably still taller than him.
Song Minwoo's friend shuffles to the desk at the front, and Yoo Joonghyuk takes the previously occupied desk. Kim Dokja realizes the desk is beside his.
"Alright then... I'll just start the lesson now."
The class is startled into motion, unzipping bags and taking out books. Kim Dokja rips a paper out of his notebook.
What do you think you're doing??? Is what he scrawls on the paper, before he folds it and passes it to Yoo Joonghyuk.
Don't worry about it; comes the response.
Of course.
I'm worrying about it. Do you WANT to get beat up or something? Are you a masochist??
Yoo Joonghyuk's nose crinkles slightly.
I won't get beat up.
Words written before disaster.
Your hand writing is a disaster, it's an eyesore to read.
Not everyone can be perfect like you, Joonghyuk-ah.
Their teacher drones on in the background.
Stay close so I can protect you.
Kim Dokja doesn't understand.
Are you being nice out of pity? If that's it, you don't have to.
It's not pity, not everyone is a self imposed sacrificial lamb like you.
What's that even supposed to mean?
What's that even supposed to mean?
Yoo Joonghyuk reads the note. He doesn't answer. Kim Dokja snatches the paper back.
Kim Dokja doesn't understand.
I don't get it.
Do you need to get it?
Why are you going so far for a single friend?
Yoo Joonghyuk hesitates.
Loyalty, he writes.
Yoo Joonghyuk's loyalty to him, Kim Dokja? Someone he's known for all of an hour, maybe two? Or does he mean that he wants Kim Dokja's loyalty? Why him, of all people?
Ok, he writes back, after a bout of a mix of confusion and hesitation. I still don't get it, but ok.
What a strange person, Kim Dokja can't help thinking.
By the way, how did you know my name? I don't remember telling you.
We've met before, but it was a long time ago. I don't expect you to remember.
Loyalty.
I'd expect myself to remember you, you have a protagonist's aura.
Yoo Joonghyuk twitches.
What?
You remind me of my favorite web novel's protagonist, he even has the same name as you. It's called 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World' by tls123.
Never heard of it. I don't read.
Even if Yoo Joonghyuk did read, he wouldn't have heard of 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World' anyway.
What do you do then?
Video games. I'm going to be a pro gamer.
That's nice, you have future plans--I don't, I'm just a reader. Is there anything else you do?
.
.
.
Lunch rolls around quickly. Kim Dokja continues to fail to convince Yoo Joonghyuk to choose someone else to befriend and Yoo Joonghyuk continues to make terrible choices.
Which has led up to now.
It's not a foreign scene to Kim Dokja. He's in yet another shady alleyway, surrounded by Song Minwoo and his friends--but this time, there's Yoo Joonghyuk, the stubborn bastard. It feels like his heart is jumping out of his chest, running away from him.
"A friend of Kim Dokja's, huh? Why're you friends with such a loser? You should join us instead."
Kim Dokja judged Song Minwoo wrongly before. It seems that he'd be fine with getting overshadowed by someone like Yoo Joonghyuk, currently. Maybe for the clout?
It's not a bad thing, he thinks, Yoo Joonghyuk doesn't need to get beat up if he joins them in giving him misery. And Kim Dokja would mind less, being beaten by Yoo Joonghyuk as opposed to Song Minwoo.
"You have it wrong, true losers... are people like you."
God damn it Yoo Joonghyuk, every chance you blow takes a year off my lifespan.
As if he heard him, Yoo Joonghyuk turns around and looks at him. His eyes are steely, but they communicate nothing else.
Song Minwoo purses his lips. "I guess that's just how it's going to be." He steps forward, confident--of course he is, with ten people backing him up.
"You're making a mistake, you know," Song Minwoo says, tilting his head.
"Wrong, again," Yoo Joonghyuk responds.
Kim Dokja doesn't think Song Minwoo is wrong.
"These two are such idiots, it makes sense they're friends," one of the people behind Song Minwoo say, before--"Hold them down."
Kim Dokja isn't particularly tall compared to any of these people. He suspects it's the malnutrition holding back his growth spurt. Not being tall makes the looming shadows more menacing on top of being ganged up on by over ten people.
His hands shake, his shoulders hunch.
He hears knuckle cracks from beside him, from Yoo Joonghyuk, who steps in front of him.
Kim Dokja makes a muffled sound at the back of his throat.
"You have such a pretty face, it would be a shame if--"
His fist is so fast it's a blur.
Yoo Joonghyuk socks the guy who called his face pretty, right in the nose. He goes down like a swatted fly and doesn't stand up again.
"What the --"
"Grab him!"
Alarmed, they latch onto his arms like leeches. Yoo Joonghyuk easily frees himself to kick one in the abdomen, giving a brutal extra kick after he's already hit the pavement. Another goes down with an upper cut and push kick to join his friend. He kicks one in the back of the knees and then in the nose (Kim Dokja hears a crack that time). The six remaining plus Song Minwoo are bug-eyed and so is Kim Dokja.
"Get the loser, use him as a shield!" Song Minwoo yells suddenly, starting to make a move.
Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes are burning like a wild fire, he takes a sharp breath at those words.
"Kim Dokja," he says in a low voice, something dangerous lurking underneath, "stay here. Watch."
Yoo Joonghyuk's back is wide and he's a good head taller than him. He stands like a formidable wall. He stands like he is a wall.
He runs straight into the fray, shoes slapping against the pavement. He takes them all down one by one. A punch catches him in the abdomen but he moves on like he didn't feel it at all, going on to round house kick one unlucky guy in the side of the head. Said unlucky guy lands on the pavement, bouncing a little. Another gets a jab in the throat and a drop kick. Another crumples after having Yoo Joonghyuk elbow tackle him.
One person manages to hook his arms around Yoo Joonghyuk, effectively trapping his arms so another can land a punch. Kim Dokja takes a hesitating step forward, but Yoo Joonghyuk shoots him a glare.
Stay.
A punch lands squarely in Yoo Joonghyuk's stomach, he recoils slightly, breath knocked out of his lungs, grimace on his face. Even still, he breaks free. A well placed elbow makes the one holding him loosen his grip enough for him to slip out.
Down low on the ground, he rushes and throws down the one who punched him. The guy, taken off guard, smacks down on the pavement and for good measure, Yoo Joonghyuk stomps down on his chest. A rib cracks under the pressure.
The one who held him gets a flying kick (What the hell, Yoo Joonghyuk?)
Soon enough, it's just one guy and Song Minwoo left, standing there. They look like they're the ones who've been cornered.
How the table turns, Kim Dokja thinks he might be going into shock.
"I... I..."
It's the guy who switched desks with Yoo Joonghyuk in the morning.
"I'm s--sorry! Sorry!" He shrieks, as he begins running away.
Yoo Joonghyuk lets him go, turning to Song Minwoo instead.
He gulps.
"I'm--"
"Don't bother apologizing. You're not getting out of this."
"Hhh... Uh..." Song Minwoo's eyes are terror filled, he back pedals and Yoo Joonghyuk follows, menacing.
"Plea--!"
Yoo Joonghyuk kicks him in the nuts. Obscene screaming fills the air. Kim Dokja feels the horror sinking into his veins.
Song Minwoo sinks to his knees, and then curls into a fetus shape.
Yoo Joonghyuk turns to Kim Dokja--is that a smile he sees?--Yoo Joonghyuk is a demon. A demon. Kim Dokja didn't realize revenge tasted this good, even achieved in a despicable way.
The demon's mouth opens.
"Should I do it twice, for good measure?" Is what comes out.
"No--no! For the loVE OF GOD NO--PLEASE PLEASE N--!"
Yoo Joonghyuk kicks Song Minwoo in the same spot again, glee in his eyes.
"Tell anyone what happened here, and it'll be worse next time."
Kim Dokja doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry.
.
.
.
When they walk back into class, Yoo Joonghyuk looks no less worse for wear, besides a few bruises hidden under his clothes and a bit of dust from the scuffle.
"I told you I'd win," he says.
"I want to cry."