Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja hadn’t planned to die in the stairwell on the first day of high school, but with one flight down and nine more to go, he was seriously considering it.

His legs ached, his lungs burned, and his throat was drier than his sense of humor.

Why had he subjected himself to this cruel torture? Was this what hell was like? Why couldn’t he make a pair of wings sprout out of his back when he needed it? These were the questions he asked himself as he dragged himself up the stairs, one painstaking step after the other.

At long last, Kim Dokja exited the stairwell and began wandering through the hallways in search of his classroom.

The time it took for him to reach one end of the corridor was equivalent to the amount of time it took for him to realize that he was on the wrong floor. It seemed like the stairs had massacred his brain cells. Then again, it could also be said that he had none to begin with.

As he belatedly turned around, he caught a glimpse of a student slipping into what seemed to be a janitor’s closet. He ignored it. After all, it had nothing to do with him and he currently had no energy to spare.

Eventually, and with the help of the occasional break, Kim Dokja completed his arduous journey to the fifth floor and exited the stairwell.

—

Kim Dokja entered the classroom and sat in the seat at the very back, next to the window. After settling in, he began zoning out...

“Kim Dokja!” He flinched as his daydream ended abruptly only moments later. Realizing that the teacher was only called attendance, he released a small sigh of relief.

“Here!”

Soon after the teacher finished attendance, they began going over course description and what to expect for the rest of the year.

As the teacher concluded their soporific lecture, they asked, “Any questions?” Silence. “Alright then, why don’t you guys introduce yourselves to each other? I’ll give you guys the rest of the period.”

With that, the classroom filled with lively chatter, something Kim Dokja had never wished to be a part of. So, instead, he stared lazily out the window, head propped up by his arm.

Kim Dokja found himself particularly annoyed only moments later. He wasn’t actively eavesdropping on the people around him. It was simply impossible to ignore the exponentially growing crowd surrounding him and the noise that came with it.

It wasn’t him they were actually surrounding, though. It was the student next to him. Kim Dokja hadn’t really been paying much attention, but nearly everyone seemed to be obsessed. Kim Dokja was mildly curious, but in the end he was just upset that whatever semblance of peace he had found had been disturbed.

A few more teachers came in after that. Each relayed a brief speech and then left, only to be succeeded by another. Suffice to say, the first day of school was unremarkably boring.

In fact, that day could be summarized into four main takeaways:

First of all, Kim Dokja could push his alarm back by thirty minutes.

Second, Kim Dokja was in dire need of some muscle before the stairs killed him.

The third was that he needed more bags. Just one would not fit all of the textbooks that the teachers dutifully planned to give them. Also, his back needed some help from his other limbs.

Lastly, he needed to find somewhere to spend lunch. The cafeteria and classroom were far too noisy.

The last three could be resolved at a later date. At the moment, Kim Dokja was in dire need of some sleep. Actually, sleep ended up coming quite a bit later. After all, Kim Dokja wasn’t Kim Dokja unless he read web novels until at least midnight.

—

On the second day of school, Kim Dokja was faced with a terrible realization: he had to learn. And not just learn, but also do work and take tests. Seriously, students deserved to be paid.

Kim Dokja paid some attention. It was enough to understand all of the information, but not enough to actively participate in class discussions. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

The student next to Kim Dokja, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He constantly contributed to the class discussion, providing meaningful insights and solutions to complex problems.

Nearly every teacher and student loved this guy. Damn, even Kim Dokja had to admit that he was really cool. That guy would certainly be the protagonist in any story.

And Kim Dokja would always be a reader.

—

Hours later, it was time for lunch.

Kim Dokja’s footsteps echoed gently through the empty halls. His once steady cadence was gradually increasing, growing more and more frantic as he retraced his steps.

He checked the school website once again. Kim Dokja was sure that the library was supposed to have a noticeable double door entrance located somewhere on the third floor. It was not supposed to be this difficult to find.

Dokja lapped the third floor for the thousandth time before stopping at a particularly dull door that looked strikingly familiar. It was the door he had seen his classmate enter before class started the other day, the one he had assumed was a janitor's closet. He eyed it suspiciously before reaching a perfectly logical conclusion:

If another student was presumably allowed to enter, why couldn’t he?

Thus, Dokja found himself cautiously turning the handle and very, very slowly pushing the door open. Then, as if the universe was actively trying to spite him, the hinges squeaked. No, it didn’t just squeak, it practically screamed bloody murder so as to alert everyone in the school–or maybe the whole world– that it had been disturbed.

Kim Dokja realized that, at this point, his life would probably be better if the apocalypse began.

As he silently regretted every choice he had made that day, he figured he was in too deep now and invited himself into the room.

He was greeted by a poorly maintained array of shelves, each messily lined with instruments. He couldn’t identify which instruments were stored in the room due to his inexperience. However, the layers of dust coating them made it obvious that they hadn’t been used in a while.

The room seemed quite lonely. Or maybe he was reading into it too much. After all, what kind of person empathized with storage rooms?

A large structure caught his eye at the back of the room, behind the rows of shelves. It was a grand piano with a plain paper folder sitting on the music stand.

To his surprise, the piano cover wasn’t nearly as dusty as the rest of the room was. In fact, it seemed like it had been touched rather recently.

Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he lifted the cover to reveal a line of black and white keys. He prepared to perform an experimental C scale using what little knowledge he had retained from his kindergarten music class.

Less than a second later, Kim Dokja nearly keeled over and died, taking down every shelf with him. He was no musician, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize an out of tune piano, especially when it was off by more than an octave. (Out of tune instruments are physically painful to listen to, by the way.)

Kim Dokja pulled the cover back down and sat on the piano bench. Even if this wasn’t the library, it was far more peaceful than the cafeteria. The room seemed abandoned enough, he might as well keep it company.

He pulled his phone out of his bag and began to read a web novel, ignoring the gargantuan mountain of homework stuffed between his folders. He could do that another time, preferably in a decade or two.

Kim Dokja found the room’s silence and emptiness pleasant–

–up until he heard the door being thrown open. Damn it, he never thought that he would ever direct this much murderous intent towards a door.

A low, ominous voice resounded through the room, demanding attention. “What are you doing here?”

Kim Dokja’s heart rate reached new heights. He never actually turned on the lights, instead opting to rely on the sunlight pouring in from the windows. Only the back of the room where he was sitting was properly illuminated. So, it was impossible for him to see who came in. However, he could make out a colossal, dark figure stalking towards him.

Thankfully, Kim Dokja remembered that he had been asked a question and that he needed to say something.

Don’t say anything stupid, he thought. But then he opened his mouth.

“Just breathing.”

Kim Dokja chastised his tongue. He began considering getting rid of it, it was a useless appendage anyway.

The intruder grunted. Kim Dokja fervently prayed. Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…

“Get. Out.”

The soon-to-be-murderer was hovering over him domineeringly. He was the Supreme King scrutinizing a lowly, misbehaving peasant (or maybe an annoying squid) who had just trespassed private property.

Meanwhile, Kim Dokja, who was now able to actually see him, was genuinely pissed.

How is this fair? Isn’t this the genius that sits next to me in class? I can’t remember his name… I hope it’s something stupid but it probably sounds really cool. Wait, why is he so ridiculously good looking? How does he make carrying that textbook in one hand look so easy? What’s with the emo lone wolf vibes? What kind of stupid god-tier protagonist genes did this guy inherit?

The guy scowled at Kim Dokja, who was lost in his thoughts. “I told you to get out.”

Kim Dokja flinched very slightly as his train of thought was derailed. “Right, sorry, I’ll leave.” Kim Dokja grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. But as he passed the guy, he caught a glimpse of the history worksheet in his hand.

Written in obnoxiously immaculate handwriting, was an incorrect answer, staring Kim Dokja in the eye. It seemed to be calling to him, begging for salvation.

Kim Dokja waited until he was just in front of the exit to speak.

“The third question is wrong.” He slipped out of the room, successfully maneuvering the door in silence.

The period was almost over, which wasn’t surprising given the amount of time Kim Dokja wasted looking for the library. As he headed back to his classroom, he thanked the gods (that he didn’t believe in, for if they did exist they would surely try to kill him) that he had survived that encounter in one piece.

—

When Kim Dokja arrived at his seat, he belatedly recalled that his seat was located less than two feet away from that scary guy.

And said “scary guy’s” eyes were drilling holes into Kim Dokja’s skull.

Well, it was safe to say that Kim Dokja was screwed.

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja spent the remainder of the school day trying to ignore the guy by paying slightly more attention to class. After all, biology teachers waited for no one.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if that guy could hold a grudge. He probably could. Thus, Kim Dokja hoped that the guy could stomach some constructive feedback. Humility was an essential characteristic, though Kim Dokja probably had excessive doses of it at times.

When class ended, Kim Dokja made a break for the exit.

He successfully failed.

As soon as he planted both of his feet outside of the classroom, his backpack was violently yanked backwards. A colossal, brooding figure glared cooly at him.

“Explain.”

Explain what? Use your words!

“Question three,” the guy added. He was either a mind reader or Kim Dokja’s exasperation was scribbled all over his face. It was probably the latter.

Kim Dokja quickly recalled the worksheet that the guy had been carrying. The words written flashed through his mind.

“Uhh, I think you misheard the teacher? When he was talking about human origins, he was explaining that hominids first emerged in Africa and that we evolved from an ape-like species. Oh, also that we share a common ancestor with chimpanzees that doesn’t exist today. You should review your notes and self-study, humans definitely didn’t originate in Asia.” Kim Dokja questioned how someone so smart could think something so stupid, and added, “Where’d you get that idea from anyway?”

The guy frowned. “Can I see your notes?”

Kim Dokja wearily replied, “...Sure?” Kim Dokja hadn't expected this reaction at all. Honestly, he thought he was going to be murdered.

“Let’s go to the library,” the guy commanded.

“Okay?” This certainly wasn’t how Kim Dokja planned to spend his afternoon. Nevertheless, Kim Dokja found himself being dragged across the school building.

Kim Dokja was infuriated. This jerk! Why did this guy have to walk so fast? He should be procrastinating, not speedrunning! He should value his time more.

As the pair traversed the campus, Kim Dokja noticed the abandoned music room again.

“Hey, what were you doing in that room?” he asked.

The guy grunted, still donning an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Why were you there?”

It was a good question. “I was… exploring?”

“Would you rather go there?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Kim Dokja’s bag was suddenly yanked again, and he was then pulled backwards towards the music room. He began to wonder if he really was being kidnapped.

Once they were both in the room, the guy summoned a folding chair and set it up by the grand piano. He then sat on the piano bench and skimmed through his well-organized bag, extracting his worksheet and notebook.

Kim Dokja was still a bit out of it due to his confusion, but he was conscious enough to read the front of the guy's notebook.

The name written on the cover was “Yoo Jonghyuk.”

Kim Dokja stared at the name for a really long time.

After the guy’s glare doused him in ice cold water, he remembered to take a seat and take out his own school work. It was a bit embarrassing. His notes were actually quite neat, but only because of its minimalistic nature. It got the job done, though.

They exchanged papers and contrasted notes for an hour. Other subjects quickly leaked into their discussion, along with strings of criticisms.

“You are slow.”

“Hello? Who helped you interpret the narration in the first chapter?”

“Who thought the sum of forty one and forty nine was one hundred?”

“That changes nothing, you jerk.”

“So you admit to being slow?”

“I’m just normal, I can’t help the fact that you’re a monster.” The corners of Yoo Jonghyuk’s mouth perked up imperceptibly.

It was a very warm, intimate interaction. Honestly, it had been a long time since either of them spoke this much.

Kim Dokja didn’t have any friends. He lived alone, too. His aunt and uncle had left him for some overseas business, and as for his parents… well, it was complicated. In any case, he had gotten used to the loneliness.

It was welcoming in comparison to the incessant bullies and heartless reporters–though they were a rarity now. Nevertheless, Kim Dokja grew to prefer loneliness.

Yet for some reason, he didn’t mind Yoo Jonghyuk. They sat side by side for hours, and Kim Dokja unexpectedly found that he didn’t hate it. He also found his productivity levels skyrocketing.

It was different, but perhaps it was okay.

—

Kim Dokja found himself returning to the music room after school the next day. He was also there the day after that, and the day after that day as well. Yoo Jonghyuk also found himself there on those days.

Yoo Jonghyuk seemed to study quite a lot. Or, at least he did when he was with Kim Dokja. Yoo Jonghyuk’s homelife was a mystery much like unwritten pages of a book that Kim Dokja longed to read.

Yoo Jonghyuk was quite well off though, judging from the sleek laptop that he used.

Kim Dokja craned his neck over Yoo Jonghyuk’s shoulder out of boredom and curiosity. He admired Yoo Jonghyuk’s dexterity as his fingers flew across the keyboard with ease and accuracy. His words per minute was probably well into the hundreds, and he could probably be a professional gamer too, considering his laser focus and talent.

Yoo Jonghyuk’s diligence was beginning to annoy Kim Dokja though, so he naturally attempted to bother him.

“What are you working on? Didn’t you finish your homework already?” Kim Dokja took a closer look at the plethora of documents and research displayed on the screen. “Wait, is this the syllabus for science class? Don’t tell me…” Kim Dokja’s eyes widened. “Are you studying ahead?”

Yoo Jonghyuk paused for a moment. He turned to face Kim Dokja with a blank expression on his face. “You don’t?” he replied.

Kim Dokja shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint, but not everyone is as prudent as you.”

“You learn more from the class if you have some background information. You should try it.”

“Absolutely not,” refused Kim Dokja with a look of disgust.

Yoo Jonghyuk simply shrugged and returned to his task. His nonchalance was truly obnoxious.

Kim Dokja tried reading, he really did. But he felt heavy somehow, like his brain was waging an epic war against itself.

“...Jerk,” he muttered as he leaned towards Yoo Jonghyuk and read with him.

—

The worst thing was that Yoo Jonghyuk was right.

On the following day, the teacher’s lectures were much easier to follow. The self studying acted as a scaffolding while the class elaborated on specific details and reiterated significant points.

Halfway through science class, Kim Dokja realized that he was subconsciously paying more attention. This led him to realize that there were actually many gaps in what the teacher was saying. It was awful because questions began building up inside of him, but he didn’t want to ask the teacher. Then, when he acknowledged the fact that he wanted to self study instead, he nearly puked.

“And that sums up the light-dependent reactions stage in photosynthesis,” the teacher announced. “The next part is the light-independent reactions, which is also known as the Calvin cycle.”

The teacher fell into a contemplative silence, then said, “I’ll give you ten thousand won right now–”

Kim Dokja’s hand shot up immediately. He was a slave to capitalism.

“–if you can explain the major steps of the Calvin cycle. Kim Dokja, you’re looking very enthusiastic today, why don’t you try?”

Prior to that day, the teacher had never spoken a word about photosynthesis. Thankfully, Kim Dokja had Yoo Jonghyuk’s laptop instead.

“Well, you begin with three molecules of carbon dioxide, which initially enter the plant through the stomata. The carbon dioxide is combined with three molecules of ribulose-1, 5- bisphosphate, or RuBP, a five-carbon sugar, with the help of the enzyme rubisco. This forms three unstable six-carbon intermediary molecules that immediately split to form a total of six molecules of phosphoglycerate, or 3-PGA. This first step is commonly referred to as carbon fixation. Next is reduction, where the six 3-PGA molecules are each phosphorylated to become 1, 3-bisphosphoglycerate which is then reduced to get a total of six molecules of G3P or glyceraldehyde-3-phosphate. This consumes six NADPH and six ATPs. The final step is the regeneration of RuBP. Five molecules of G3P and three more ATP molecules are used to create three molecules of RuBP so that the Calvin cycle can continue. All molecules of ATP and NADPH consumed were products of the light reactions that were previously dissolved in the stroma. Finally, one molecule of G3P leaves the cycle, though two of them–which can come from two cycles– form one glucose molecule. It can also be combined with other molecules to form different sugars, but glucose is most relevant for now. That’s pretty much it.”

It was a rather choppy explanation of the Calvin cycle. Nevertheless, the teacher was shell-shocked.

“That was… completely accurate. I was not expecting that,” the teacher said, slightly dazed. Honestly, what was he expecting? Someone was bound to know it, especially with Yoo Jonghyuk in the class.

Kim Dokja innocently stuck out his hand. “Can I have the money, please?”

“Sure…” The teacher mindlessly lumbered to the back of the classroom, placed a ten-thousand won bill in Kim Dokja’s outstretched hand, and returned to his desk.

The shrill bell rang out, shaking the teacher out of his stupor. “Class dismissed! Don’t forget to visit the club fair after school today!”

Kim Dokja had been hoping to forget, he really had been. The club fair would probably be the most chaotic event of the year.

He could picture it all vividly, the noisy field cramped with students, club leaders vehemently advertising their activities. He could already hear all the shouting and excessive usage of megaphones.

Yeah, no thanks. There was a website used to sign up for clubs and view their descriptions anyway. Kim Dokja figured that he wouldn’t miss much if he skipped the club fair.

—

“Thank you, enjoy your afternoon!” The cashier spoke cheerfully, flashing an insincere smile.

Not that Kim Dokja cared. He was in a fairly good mood since the money he had just spent was his teacher’s.

Plastic bag in hand, he strode past the automatic doors and into a mild autumn breeze.

“Kim Dokja?”

Oh, and also into Yoo Jonghyuk.

Kim Dokja blinked, evidently surprised. “Yes, that’s me.”

Confusion hit only milliseconds later. Kim Dokja was currently outside of the convenience store located between his apartment and the bus stop, and the club fair shouldn’t have ended yet.

So, why was Yoo Jonghyuk here…?

“Jonghyuk-ah, are you stalking me?” asked Kim Dokja, ever the epitome of innocuous belittling. He even released a heavy sigh, emulating a disappointed mother.

Yoo Jonghyuk clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I live in this area.”

“You know, that’s what a stalker would say.”

“It sounds like you have experience.”

“No, it sounds like I’m taking cautionary measures,” Kim Dokja refuted. “Hey, stop following me.”

“I told you, I live in this direction,” Yoo Jonghyuk grumbled. They were walking side by side now, matching each other’s paces. Kim Dokja stared at him with an air of bored disbelief and mountains of sarcasm.

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes were fixed on the road, watching for cars. His hair was gently tousled by the wind, hands resting languidly in his pockets. The sun hit his face at the perfect angle, bathing his effortlessly flawless features in a warm light. Kim Dokja looked away.

“Shouldn’t you be at the club fair?” he eventually asked.

“It’s a waste of time.”

Kim Dokja chuckled lightly. At least they could agree on something. “Will you still be joining any clubs?” he continued.

Yoo Jonghyuk shrugged. “Probably. I still need to check the website, though.”

Suddenly, Kim Dokja’s eyes widened mockingly. “You haven’t looked ahead? Yoo Jonghyuk? Really? Our resident chronically online star student?”

“You’re one to talk,” he said, his expression souring. “I’m not the one glued to my phone.”

“It’s called reading, you illiterate jerk.” Kim Dokja scowled, but it didn’t have the effect that he hoped for. It was difficult to reprimand Yoo Jonghyuk, especially since he towered over Kim Dokja like a freaking giant. “Stupid tall people…” he muttered under his breath.

Yoo Jonghyuk heard him easily and scoffed. “It isn’t my fault that you’re short.”

“I’m going this way,” Kim Dokja announced, consciously ignoring him. He turned the corner and waved at Yoo Jonghyuk’s receding figure. “See you tomorrow!”

Yoo Jonghyuk scowled before heading in the opposite direction.

A block later, Yoo Jonghyuk paused to look over his shoulder.

He watched as a certain idiot stumbled over his own feet, arms flailing outward in a desperate attempt to regain balance. For better or for worse, that fool caught and reoriented himself in the nick of time.

Yoo Jonghyuk turned around and continued his commute. A tentative smile pulled at his lips as he imagined a certain unlucky grin and its facetious remarks.

Chapter Text

Kim Dokja sat on the cold, hard floor, his back pressed against the wall beside the piano. His body was going numb, but was still sensitive enough to feel sore after sitting for an hour. As he stood up to stretch, his joints creaked and performed a concerto of cracking and popping sounds.

Yoo Jonghyuk jolted upright from the sudden noise. If Kim Dokja was trying and failing to manufacture fire crackers, he had to restrain him before he started a disaster. “Kim Dokja…”

“Oh, I’m just stiff, this is normal. Carry on.” Kim Dokja shooed him away with his hands. “No pyrotechnics here.”

Scoffing, Yoo Jonghyuk returned to his homework–or rather his calculations on the likelihood of Kim Dokja having a vitamin C deficiency. He recalled the innutritious kimbap that Kim Dokja was carrying the other day (yes, he saw that) and was confident that the fool had deficiencies in everything.

Kim Dokja should eat properly…

A loud bang echoed across the music room. It was unsurprisingly the door, which had suddenly burst open. A petite girl with a black bob-cut stood in the doorway, her extended arm signaling that she was the one who threw the door open. Her delicate facial features and short stature belied her personality.

The girl waltzed into the room and pretentiously placed her hands on her hips. “This is the room? It’s so…ugh. The school is so stingy…”

A pretty, brown haired girl, who was previously standing by the entrance, joined the rude girl’s side. Conversely, she wore a gentle, placating expression. “The school is running low on funding. Honestly, we should be grateful that we even have a room…”

In the midst of it all, panic surged through Kim Dokja’s body. What was someone doing in their room? How did they find it? Why were they still here? When would they leave, if ever?

The taller girl spotted the two of them past the shelves. “Hmm? Sooyoung-ah, I think there are people here already.”

“Eh?” The shorter one, Sooyoung, had to tippy-toe and poke around in order to find Kim Dokja and Yoo Jonghyuk. “What are you guys doing here?”

Kim Dokja glanced wearily at Yoo Jonghyuk. As expected, he was scowling murderously, his annoyance clear in the vein popping out of his head. Still, Kim Dokja was impressed by his restraint as he hadn’t kicked them out yet. He wished he could have enjoyed the same courtesy.

The taller girl handled the situation: “Ah, sorry about Han Sooyoung. I’m Yoo Sangah, and we’re starting a robotics team. This is the room that the school assigned to us for club activities.” She spoke sweetly and with patience, unlike her feral friend.

“Oh!” She excitedly clasped her hands together. “Why don’t the two of you join the club?”

Kim Dokja stiffened, but he was genuinely considering it. After all, software and mechanical engineers could make a fair amount of money. If they were at least competent. He had also skimmed through the club list, and found that most were unprofitable. Like, why was there a kazoo club? Kim Dokja didn’t know.

He glanced at Yoo Jonghyuk, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked… surprisingly interested? He still seemed pretty pissed, though.

“You’ll be coding and building a robot based on a challenge. We also need a driver–someone who controls the robot. This year’s challenge hasn’t been assigned yet, so we’ll probably just spend the first month or two practicing and learning! Also, we’ll be attending competitions,” Yoo Sangah elaborated. “It’ll be fun!”

“Wait, we might have to work with these two idiots?” Han Sooyoung complained.

“Sooyoung-ah, they’re not idiots.”

Thanks, thought Kim Dokja.

“Also, we need at least two more people to join for the club to be official,” she pointed out before promptly returning to her newest clients, flashing a refreshing smile. “So, what do you think?”

“We’ll join,” Kim Dokja decided, albeit a bit hesitant. But, that was because Yoo Jonghyuk was glaring daggers at Kim Dokja. He ran with it anyway–who knew what would happen if he left it up to Yoo Jonghyuk?

Unexpectedly, the guy nodded curtly. Kim Dokja’s eyes widened, relieved by the knowledge that he could live another day.

Yoo Sangah beamed. “Really?! That’s great, the first official meeting will be tomorrow, right after school, in this room. I guess we’ll see you there!”

Han Sooyoung seemed to grumble something incoherently. Yoo Sangah made a show of petting her head in an attempt to mollify her.

The two girls exited the room soon after collecting their emails, saying that they had to let their supervisor know that they now had a sufficient number of members.

And with that, Kim Dokja and Yoo Jonghyuk were now part of the robotics team.

—

The sound of a mallet bashing against a shelf reverberated across the room.

“Order in the court!” Han Sooyoung shouted, holding out the last syllables for emphasis.

The three remaining members of the group gave her their undivided attention. Mostly.

“Where’d you get the mallet?” Kim Dokja inquired while silently thanking the music room for being soundproof. He was a bit disappointed about sharing the room, but he didn’t mind in the end.

“My backpack, of course. It’s pretty useful. Anyway, this is the first official meeting of the robotics team! Today’s order of business is… drumroll please.” She nodded them on until Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja began rhythmically drumming the floor. Yoo Jonghyuk refused; he was appalled by their unsanitary conventions. Han Sooyoung feigned annoyance, though it was clear that she was enjoying this. “...deciding a name for our team!”

Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja perked up. Yoo Jonghyuk–with a personality colder than -273.15˚C–offered no reaction.

“Do you guys have any ideas?” Yoo Sangah ventured. “I’m open to anything.”

Han Sooyoung opened her laptop and pulled up the team application form. “We should call it Han Soo–”

“Kim Dokja’s Company,” he said deadpan.

“No! Absolutely not! That’s an awful name it should be–”

“It’s too late,” Kim Dokja said with a playful lilt in his voice. Han Sooyoung’s laptop had somehow snuck into Kim Dokja’s hands. “The site was on dictation for some reason and I just hit the submit button.” He proudly flashed a thumbs up. “No refunds, the name stays.”

“Hey, give that back!” Han Sooyoung snatched her laptop back, furious. The screen now read:

[Congratulations ‘Kim Dokja’s Company’ on your successful registration! You are Team #1864. Please review and save the following information…]

“Kim Dokja, what did you do…?” Yoo Jonghyuk growled at the grinning Kim Dokja.

“Ah… well what’s done is done,” Yoo Sangah chuckled nervously. She was dumbfounded by Kim Dokja’s actions, but secretly found the name charming.

Han Sooyoung pressed her hands to her temples. “Just–I’m going to get back at you later. What’s the plan?”

“I thought you had one?” Kim Dokja asked innocently.

“I did, but you ruined it. I’m abdicating my throne. Kim Dokja, you do something,” she grumbled, waving him off.

“Wow, thanks. Maybe we should start by getting power tools?” He suggested. “You and I can go shopping right now–”

Yoo Jonghyuk swiftly interrupted. “No, not you. That would pose a safety hazard.”

“Hey, what did I ever do to you?” Kim Dokja pouted. It was kind of cute.

“You almost started a fire during the buffering lab,” Yoo Jonghyuk said flatly as he narrowed his eyes. Kim Dokja was smart and all, but he was hopelessly curious and clumsy.

Yoo Sangah frowned. “Wait, but doesn’t that lab mainly involve liquids and chemicals? Hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide aren’t flammable.”

“He wanted to see if he could set apple juice on fire with a Bunsen burner. In the end, it was the pH paper.”

Yoo Sangah stared incredulously at Kim Dokja. Meanwhile, Han Sooyoung was guffawing uncontrollably on the floor, clutching her stomach.

“Fine, fine, fine, you’ve made your point.” Kim Dokja sighed, and began futilely pushing Yoo Jonghyuk. “You can go now, I’ll stay.”

Yoo Jonghyuk shrugged half-heartedly and left the room.

“Han Sooyoung, you should go too!” Kim Dokja decided, smiling gleefully. He would get his revenge on Yoo Jonghyuk, and he would do it through Han Sooyoung.

Yoo Sangah nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea! I can stay with Dokja-ssi. Bye Sooyoung-ah!” She waved ecstatically.

“Wait–”

“Bye!!”

Han Sooyoung finally left the room, reluctantly trailing behind Yoo Jonghyuk.

After she left, Yoo Sangah turned to Kim Dokja, who had already pulled out his phone. Curious, she asked, “By the way, what is Dokja-ssi looking at?”

“Ah, I…”

Yoo Sangah’s gaze was fixed intently on his phone screen. “Is it a novel?”

“Yes, well, you could say that I am studying Korean.”

“I also like reading novels! Murakami Haruki, Raymond Carver, Han Kang…”

Han Sooyoung and Yoo Jonghyuk returned nearly an hour later. Both wore solemn expressions.

“Hey guys…” Han Sooyoung spoke almost nervously. “So, uh, Yoo Jonghyuk blew our budget and now we’re broke.”

Yoo Jonghyuk scowled. “I spent all of it?”

She punched his shoulder, harrumphing. She moved to the side and revealed two students: one buff guy and a beautiful, lithe girl. “Also, meet the newest members of the robotics team, Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung. I convinced them to join.” That earned her another deadly glare.

Kim Dokja and Yoo Sangah stared blankly.

“YOU DID WHAT?!”