Happy End

Oneshot

Yoo Joonghyuk was jolted awake by someone vigorously shaking him. "Hyuk-ah! Joonghyuk! Yoo Joonghyuk! Wake up!" The voice was urgent, almost desperate.

He slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the dim light, and saw the familiar figure standing over him—the man who had given him something he had long lost: hope. This was the person who had guided him through the darkest moments, who had shown him that there was a way to end the seemingly endless cycle of regressions, a way to finally find peace and reach an end as a human.

"Kim Dokja." Yoo Joonghyuk's voice was rough from sleep as he rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of his dream. His hair, already in disarray from sleep, was further tousled by Kim Dokja's hand, leaving it in an even more chaotic state.

"Wake up, cook us breakfast..." Kim Dokja's voice cut through the remnants of sleep, accompanied by a gentle shake of Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulder. The tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable hint of expectation in it.

Yoo Joonghyuk groaned, his mind still foggy. "Why don't you cook it yourself—" He started to grumble, but the words caught in his throat as he met Kim Dokja's gaze. Right, Kim Dokja was hopeless in the kitchen. The thought of the chaos that would ensue if Kim Dokja attempted to cook made Yoo Joonghyuk pause.

With a resigned sigh, Yoo Joonghyuk swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "Alright, you're all hopeless," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he prepared to take on yet another task.

Kim Dokja pouted, his expression one of exaggerated hurt. "As if we have a choice," he complained, his voice tinged with playful defiance. "You won't even touch the food when someone else cooks." The complaint was familiar, almost routine, but it still carried the truth—Yoo Joonghyuk was notoriously picky, especially when it came to food.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the complaining Kim Dokja and scoffed. "Fine, you have a point."

With a reluctant sigh, Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja made their way to the kitchen, where Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah were already waiting. The clatter of dishes and the soft murmur of conversation greeted them as they entered.

Han Sooyoung glanced up from what she was doing and immediately gave Yoo Joonghyuk a once-over. Bed hair sticking out in every direction, a rumpled shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, and half-lidded, sleepy eyes that still managed to look sharp. She rolled her eyes, her lips curling into a smirk. "You really are a damn protagonist, you bastard," she quipped, crossing her arms. "You can't even look ugly."

Before Han Sooyoung could continue, Kim Dokja popped up, cutting her off with a dramatic wave of his hand. "That's my line! I even messed up his hair more on purpose so he'd look like a mess, but now he looks even more handsome!"

Yoo Sangah chuckled softly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Dokja-ssi, you don't have to hide in the closet anymore."

Han Sooyoung burst into laughter, nearly doubling over, while Yoo Joonghyuk sighed in exasperation. Meanwhile, Kim Dokja blinked in confusion, completely oblivious. "What do you mean?"

Yoo Sangah shook her head, her smile turning gentle. "You'll get it soon, Dokja-ssi." Then, she glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, her tone softening. "Let's be patient, Joonghyuk-ssi."

Yoo Joonghyuk placed a hand over his face, shaking his head in frustration as Han Sooyoung continued to laugh, now circling him like a predator teasing its prey. Her amusement only seemed to grow with each pass, clearly enjoying how much she was getting under his skin.

"Do you want your breakfast or not?" Yoo Joonghyuk finally growled, his patience wearing thin. The veins on his fist and face were starting to stand out, a clear sign that he was one step away from losing his temper.