Chapter Text
“Shh…it’s alright, please don’t cry…,” Kim Dokja pleaded. The baby wailed in his arms, gripping the soft fabric of his sweater. He held her close, bounced her around, and at some point, started dancing around with her, and only then did she start to settle down.
A soft laughter came from the couch. “Dokja, are you sure this is what you want to do? Imagine how convenient it would be to stay with your father and I.” Persephone rose from her seat, coming close to take the baby from his hands. Biyoo started babbling happily as if she weren’t bawling her eyes out mere moments ago. “We would be just an arm’s length away to help.” Persephone spun around carefully, eliciting a giggle from the tiny human in her arms.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he exasperated. Kim Dokja walked to the stack of boxes to continue unpacking, slowly taking things out and piling them onto the kitchen counters. “While I appreciate the offer, I want to do things my way.”
“Okay, okay, I understand. But, just know we’re open to babysitting our beloved granddaughter whenever you want.” She stroked the chubby cheeks of the girl, giving her a big smile before peppering kisses all over her face. “Oh, on second thought, bring her once a week at least!”
Heavy footsteps entered the living room. Persephone’s light hair and bright aura were a stark contrast to her husband’s eerie demeanor. “Hello, dear.” Persephone pushed back a lock of hair behind his ear.
Hades kissed her forehead before scooping Biyoo out of her hands. “Both of you should come over once a week.”
Kim Dokja sighed, giving up on unpacking for the moment. “Yes, yes, I will visit! I can’t guarantee I’ll visit weekly. I’ll probably be busy most days.”
“You wouldn’t be as busy if you just worked for Underworld full-time. Dokja, you have a natural talent for persuasion and business. Not to mention you already help out with the company—“
“Dad, while I appreciate the offer…I want to do things on my own.”
Hades sighed. “I understand—“
He was yanked down, startling the three of them. Biyoo tugged on his hair again. “Ba-ba, ba-ba…”
“Baba is hurting, sweetie!” Persephone quickly tried to pry the hair from her grasp. Kim Dokja snickered as he made his way towards them. Kim Dokja tickled Biyoo’s tummy, causing her to laugh. Hades sighed in relief as Kim Dokja took her into his arms again.
He held her so they were face-to-face. “You’re such a troublemaker now! His right hand softly pinched her cheek. “How can a tiny dumpling like you be so mischievous?”
She put both hands on his cheeks before patting them. “Papa,” she cooed. Kim Dokja just melted. His hand held hers, squishing it. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled.
“Mm? Seems like someone’s hungry…” Kim Dokja looked out the window, seeing how the warmth of the sky was melting away into the night. “Actually, it’s probably dinner time. Are you two hungry?” Kim Dokja turned to look at Persephone and Hades.
“I’m hungry.” Hades’s voice was monotone.
“Famished.”
“I’ll pick up something from around here, I haven’t gotten the chance to go grocery shopping. Anything you guys want in particular?”
Hades set his gaze on Persephone. “You can’t go wrong with fried chicken.” Fried chicken sounded good after being on an empty stomach for most of the day. The fried chicken in Korea had a certain nostalgic taste he couldn’t quite find in the States.
“Sounds good. Can you guys feed Biyoo while I’m out? There’s mashed carrots and peas in the fridge.”
“Of course.” Persephone leaned back to grab her purse, shuffling for her wallet.
“Mother, I don’t need money. It’s fine, I can pay.”
“Hush, just take it and go.” She handed him a few bills, put her wallet away, and swiped Biyoo from him. “Is her highchair still in a box?”
Kim Dokja sighed and slipped the bills into his wallet. There was no use in arguing with her about money. If she decided she was going to do something, then she’s going to do it. “Her highchair is in that box.” He pointed at the box he had started to unpack earlier.
“Got it. We’ll handle feeding her.” Hades moved to unpack the highchair. Kim Dokja glanced back before leaving the house, grabbing a coat on the way out.
It was early spring in Korea, but the nights still felt like winter. It was a whole 8 years since he was in the country. Seemed like some things changed, but it was relatively the same. Walking down the street itself was nostalgic. Scratch that, it seemed like he never left. Kim Dokja’s legs moved automatically. The roads, the alleys, the steps, all too familiar. Walking down that was second nature.
“Oh, this must be a new bookstore.” Kim Dokja turned his head to see a fair-sized bookstore. Not too big, but not small enough to go unnoticed. The windows were lined with book promotions and whatnot.
‘I wonder if Sooyoung published a book yet…’
Eight years was also the time spent away from his friends. Fuck. He couldn’t remember their numbers or even an address. The only thing that was absolute back then was high school. He could see them every day without fail. It was fun too. Kim Dokja had graduated long ago, but he couldn’t help but reminisce about his high school years. His friends, their shenanigans, their get-togethers and outings….
‘Joonghyuk…’
A woman walked out of the bookstore with a book or two tucked close to her chest. One of them looked familiar.
‘Memoirs of the Underground Killer’
Kim Dokja clicked his tongue and walked faster. Not every day was sunshine and rainbows during high school…
He finally reached the shop he stopped by once or twice before he left. If Kim Dokja’s memory serves him right, they had good fried chicken. The moment he stepped in, he could tell they’d had a few renovations since he was last here.
The walls were brighter in color, the tables and chairs looked new, it also looked like the employees even got new uniforms. Nonetheless, it still smelled the same in there. Greasy yet savory.
Kim Dokja placed his order, waiting not far from the counter. He opened an app on his phone.
‘Ways of Survival should be updating tonight…’
He smiled. Even if he grew up, the fact that he loved this novel wouldn’t change. Much like the fried chicken shop he was in.
“D-Dokja…?”
Kim Dokja’s looked up, startled by the sudden call of his name. Light brown hair tied back into a low ponytail and soft features he could never forget.
“Yoo Sangah?”