Chapter Text
There's a hand running through his hair. Just like last night, and the night before.
The nails are sharp, maybe a little sharper than a normal human's, but they're gentle. Delicate. The hand's owner is being very careful to not wake him, and Kim Soleum can only lie still and enjoy the serenity of the moment.
There is a faraway, muffled feeling of frustration too. Something tells Kim Soleum that he should open his eyes and look at where he is and who is beside him, but then that gentle hand moves--smooths out the furrow in his brow--and Kim Soleum is quickly lulled back into the haze.
The call of sleep beckons to him. It’s enticing. There’s a quiet war in his mind where one side argues for sleep and the other encourages him to stick true to his nature, to be stubborn, to open his eyes…
Someone is whispering. And he thinks the voice almost sounds amused. But it's too quiet to make out the words. Too much effort to do anything more than enjoy the hand in his hair. Generously, the owner of the voice shifts closer, the bed dipping under his weight.
Just a breath away now, that voice becomes much clearer.
"Soleum-nim..." the voice whispers.
Kim soleum's eyelids twitch, feeling the breath over his face.
"Go back to sleep, okay?"
He listens, briefly slipping under the veil of sleep.
And then he is awake again. Kim soleum's eyes open.
The room is a bright blur at first. Colors fixing into place, forming distant objects. He looks to his right, where the owner of that voice had been, and there he sees-
No one.
As if it had all been a figment of his imagination, or maybe just a dream.
Groggily, he scans the room, familiarity slowly coming back to him. His desk, arranged neatly with only a few papers strewn about from when he had used it last night. His shelves, holding trinkets he feels sentimentally attached to. And atop his nightstand holds his phone with all of the contacts of people important to him--friends, family, colleagues.
Right, this is his room. He's home.
There are no ghost stories. No darknesses. There is no crazy pharmaceutical company nor a fierce talisman-wielding government agency. None of that exists here. This is his home. A world truly devoid of ghost stories.
It's become a habit of his to confirm this every time he wakes. It brings him relief. and maybe something else too, but mostly relief.
Kim Soleum sighed, sitting up from his bed and swinging his feet onto the ground. He grabbed his phone and checked the time. It's just a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off.
He should start getting ready for work.
--------------------
Just outside of his office building, Kim Soleum stands and basks in the cool air.
It’s evening out, a time of day that usually brings out eerily low lighting and the fear of things hiding in the dark. But the lighting of the city is bright and familiar, it doesn’t allow a scaredy cat like Kim Soleum to even begin to be paranoid. It’s relaxing. This way, he can truly appreciate the night.
There’s no rush right now, either. He can take his time walking back home and be careless. He can enjoy the privilege of a safe night. And it’s truly such a relief.
Kim Soleum's phone buzzes, and he's quick to reach into his pocket. He wonders briefly if it's the security sergeant texting him. After all, it's so late out, who else would--
His pauses. Blinking once. Twice. And he realizes that line of thinking is wrong.
Slowly, Kim Soleum fishes his phone out and looks at the screen.
The message ID is one of Kim Soleum's friends.
He tries not to feel disappointed.
- [Hey u just got off work right? are u doing Ok?]
Kim Soleum stares down at the message and suddenly feels very troubled. He’s asking if I’m okay? Have I been acting that weird? He thinks bitterly. No, it’s normal that his friends would notice, he’s still adjusting to being back home.
It will just take him some time, that’s all.
He quickly types up a reply.
- [Yes, I’m fine.]
He doesn’t really have an interest in confiding in his friends right now. Really, what could he even say that doesn’t make him sound like a lunatic? And it’s not like this world has contamination, there’s no need for him to see a counselor.
Kim Soleum takes a shaky breath, staring at his own reply. And then… his lips twitch despite himself. His reply… it was quite similar to a certain lizard, wasn’t it?
…
The smile falls from his face. He sighs and looks up at the sky. There are no visible stars. It’s covered by a thick blanket of light pollution.
He wants to go home and sleep.
--------------------
There is no hand running through his hair tonight.
But Kim Soleum can sense something is off. He had certainly fallen asleep in his own bed, but now he’s somewhere else. He can feel it. The air is different. The fabric of the bed underneath him no longer feels as plush as it was at home.
Opening his eyes is hard. It feels like they’ve been glued shut. Similarly, his limbs feel weak and unresponsive to his demands. With great difficulty, he rolls over onto his stomach as he struggles to move his arms from where they lay at his side to be under him. He feels like he’s dragging heavy lobs of meat.
He pushes up his torso with his weak and wobbly arms, barely able to shift his knees under him to reclaim some sense of posture with his shaky limbs. He must look pathetic right now. Messy black hair hanging down while he’s curled up on his hands and knees, trying helplessly to bring his body upwards. He takes a deep breath and pauses his efforts before trying again.
Close by, he hears a click, the sound of a door opening. And then someone gasps.
Hasty footsteps quickly approach him, pressing gently on his back. Kim Soleum’s trembling form is easily subdued. He goes down, losing all his progress. He cracks open his eyes to glare at the intruder, but it's too bright. Too blurry.
There’s a hand running through his hair.
“Go back to sleep.”
A haze descends, Kim Soleum closes his eyes.
Then, quickly, he jolts awake.
He sits up, noticeably stronger, and scans his surroundings.
He’s home again. Everything is back to normal.
He’s home. He’s in his room. There are no darknesses. Relief floods him.
Relief and frustration.
--------------------
Misery loves company, but why does peace and happiness give him so much time to miss the company that misery made? Isn't that kind of unfair?
Kim Soleum doesn’t know. He at least thinks it’s not right for him to feel this way with his family finally right in front of him. He feels guilty. There’s a heaviness in his chest and it hurts.
Right now, it’s evening. A little past 6PM, last he checked. He’s walking back from work again.
As he steps down a set of stairs, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He feels no urge to check it. He’ll do that later, when he has more energy for it.
He walks onto the metro train and heads for a seat. It’s crowded with other passengers, other salarymen on their way home just like him. For most people, it’s a safe, convenient method of transportation for countless people’s use in their day-to-day life.
This was the same for Kim Soleum. Or rather, it was supposed to be the same.
All I feel is anxiety.. He thinks, scanning the seats, the windows, the floor. Even though Kim Soleum knows he’s back home, he feels a wave of fear anytime he takes the subway. It easily reminds him of all the ghost stories from the other world; the first employee orientation darkness, the tamra train darkness, and even the segwang city darkness. He was caught up in a lot of train-related darknesses.
The train begins moving, heading towards his destination. It starts to shake, not unnaturally so, but it startles Kim Soleum nonetheless. Other passengers habitually grab onto handles or lean back in their seats. Kim Soleum mimics them.
He used to be on his phone during these rides, passing the time for what was usually just a boring part of his work commute. Now, he finds more comfort in watching his surroundings. Making sure nothing is unnatural or impossible.
Eventually, the train slows at his station, and he gets off quickly. Stepping out into the fresh air, It feels like his shoulders are a little lighter.
But there’s still something lingering over him.
There always is.
—-----------------
There’s a hand running through his hair.
This time, Kim Soleum’s eyes open just a fraction. Blinding light fill his vision before his eyes finally adjust. He slowly shifts his gaze to the one sitting on the bed beside him.
Kim Soleum finally sees that familiar, fluffy blonde hair and brown coat. Though the figure is stroking Kim Soleum’s hair, his body is faced mostly away from him. But Kim Soleum still knows it's him.
It’s the director, Ho Yuwon.
Kim Soleum stares at his back for a moment, before weakly reaching out to grasp his sleeve.
Ho Yuwon startles, quickly whipping around to face him, and finally their gazes meet.
His pale yellow eyes are as striking as ever, but underneath it are subtle dark circles. A small feeling of worry flashes through Kim Soleum’s dulled mind.
Ho Yuwon’s eyes soften. “Sorry, did I wake you?” He begins quietly, leaning in. Kim Soleum tenses, feeling a sense of foreboding.
“It’s okay, Soleum-nim. Go back to–”
Kim Soleum pounces.
Gathering up all his strength, he launches a hand over Ho Yuwon’s mouth and they both topple downward, pinning Ho Yuwon down to the bed. Kim Soleum presses close to him, his arms still feeling weak. Their legs tangle and scrape together, a messy puzzle of lanky limbs. It’s not the most efficient position, but it works. He’s effectively trapped the fox.
Ho Yuwon freezes from under him, eyes going wide as he looks at Kim Soleum. The director looks like a startled, innocent prey animal, but Kim Soleum knows better.
“Are you going to try and force me to sleep again?” Kim Soleum asks cooly. His voice comes out crackly and abused, as if he has not used it for a long time.
Even if his memory of these nights faded by the time he was awake back at home, it wasn’t hard to recognize the pattern when he was here. Ho Yuwon was deliberately putting him back to sleep each time. There was a lot Kim Soleum still didn’t know, but he was sure of that at the very least.
Unable to answer verbally due to Kim Soleum’s hand still placed over his mouth, Ho Yuwon blinks up at him. Slowly, he shakes his head.
Kim Soleum carefully lifts his hand, but he makes no move to get off of the director. This is mostly in part to the fact that he used up most of his strength to get to this position in the first place. He’s hoping Ho Yuwon doesn’t catch on to that fact. In his current state, Ho Yuwon could easily overpower him.
“Soleum-nim,” Ho Yuwon begins, almost like a plea. “You really should be resting..-”
“Director,” Kim Soleum says in turn. His voice is harsh, accompanied by an undercurrent of stress and anger. Ho Yuwon clicks his mouth shut.
“Where are we? Why am I..” Kim Soleum trails off, confusion leaking into his tone.
Briefly, he scans their surroundings. Cozy. Warm. White walls. It’s certainly the fox counseling room, but why? How? He had already figured out he wasn’t home, but it was still painful to confirm it. Why is he not home?
Perhaps his concerns don't even need to be voiced. Ho Yuwon looks at him with a sympathetic gaze “This is my darkness, the fox counseling room, and you…”
Ho Yuwon reveals a small smile. There is no joy in it, only bitterness. “You’re being treated, remember?” He says.
Kim Soleum feels his body go cold.
Right. Even if the Good Friend version of Kim Soleum managed to go home. That still left his contaminated self, his other half… the one left in Ho Yuwon’s care.
Kim Soleum let out a shaky breath. His thoughts spun rapidly. But wasn’t I the Good Friend? I still remember spending time in my home world. Are our memories connected? Am I really-am I really the contaminated Kim Soleum-? No! That can’t be right. Why am I-?
“Soleum-nim, calm down.” A firm voice called. Assertive, but considerate. Hands reach out to touch Kim Soleum’s face, resting gently against his cheeks and grounding him. Kim Soleum snaps out of his daze, realizing his breathing had gotten heavier, alerting the perceptive counselor. He looks down at Ho Yuwon, whose gaze is filled with worry. Kim Soleum swallows.
“Tell me what you know.” Kim Soleum says. It comes out a little more pathetic than he intends.
Ho Yuwon retracts his hands and looks to the side in thought. He seems to be considering Kim Soleum’s question. “You’ve been unconscious for a long time. I’ve been doing what I can to treat your body from contamination from the outside.” He says. “But you’ve been waking up recently… and I thought it would be best for you to stay asleep for now.”
Ho Yuwon makes eye contact with Kim Soleum again, then his eyes slide to Kim Soleum’s trembling arms, just barely holding himself up over the director. Ho Yuwon’s gaze holds a mix of exasperation and fondness, a combination that makes something in Kim Soleum’s heart waver.
He knows he can overpower me, but he doesn’t. Kim Soleum realizes.
“I only did what I thought would be best for you, Soleum-nim.” He says.
Kim Soleum stares at the director for a while, scrutinizing him. When he finds nothing, he sighs, and some of the tension in his shoulders dissipates.
It’s hard to stay mad at the counselor, who’s only here to help him. He forgets it's the counselor under him right now, not the director. It’s not Ho Yuwon’s fault that he is the half left behind. It’s just a frustrating fact that Kim Soleum must accept for now. Should he be thankful at least part of him went home? It’s not as if he isn’t thankful, but it's hard. It’s bitter.
“So I’m the one being treated..” Kim Soleum says, mostly to himself. “But I remember.. going home. Being home. I was just home and working… and now I’m here.”
Yes, Kim Soleum remembers all of it. Was it just a dream? That couldn’t be. It was so vivid and real. Days of monotony and work and safety that couldn’t be artificially reproduced. Were his two selves’ memories connected? But he doesn't even remember being this Kim Soleum.
This is so confusing.
Defeatedly, Kim Soleum leans back, awkwardly getting off of the counselor with a grunt, and nearly crashing into him in the process. The movement brings a wave of dizziness, and Kim Soleum is all-too reminded of the poor state his body is in right now.
With Kim Soleum off of him, there’s a flash of disappointment in Ho Yuwon’s eyes not noticed by the dismayed Kim Soleum. It disappears as Ho yuwon sits up and shifts a little, methodically smoothing out some of the wrinkles in his coat while he considers Kim Soleum’s earlier words. It looks like they’ve swapped their starting positions now, with Kim Soleum sitting on the side of the bed and Ho Yuwon sitting in the middle.
“You have those memories? Well, you are just different facets of the same person, so it's not impossible for your memories to be linked, but if it's as vivid as you say.. hmm..” Ho Yuwon answers uncertainly, trailing off.
There’s a moment of quiet, before it looks like an idea has struck Ho Yuwon, he looks eagerly at Kim Soleum.
“Soleum-nim, how long were you awake today? In your other world?”
Kim Soleum frowns, pondering for a moment. “About.. 17 hours?”
Ho Yuwon nods. “And the nights before that?”
“Probably.. the same. Around 17 hours.”
“That’s also around the time you’ve gone without waking up here the past week.” Ho Yuwon says, giving him an intense look.
Kim Soleum realizes. His eyes go wide. “So I….”
“You’re separate, but connected.”
My two selves are connected? By a sleeping cycle? He ponders this. When one side sleeps, the other wakes up. That’s why whenever Ho Yuwon put him to sleep here, he would wake up in his home world. And whenever he went to sleep in his home world, he would wake up here. He didn’t realize because he was too weak to even fully wake up in this world until today.
Internally, he complains. doesn’t this mean I will never get any actual rest? This cycle sounds like something devised by Daydream Inc. to maximize work efficiency.
But more importantly… why? Kim Soleum’s hands curl into the sheets. “But doesn’t that mean… the wish ticket failed? I- the Good Friend shouldn’t be able to connect back here at all.”
It’s always something isn’t it? Something always has to go wrong. Always. It was already enough–or rather, too much–to know that part of him would always be left behind, but now even the Good Friend version of himself was unable to fully escape.
Ho Yuwon shifts closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“The wish ticket used to realize your wish, It was nothing like daydream’s cheap knockoff. It was a real wish granter. It had the power to grant anything you truly hoped for in your heart.” He says.
Kim Soleum looks at him with a forlorn expression. He remains silent.
Ho Yuwon continues, his energy much like a proficient counselor hoping to assist their patient, “You certainly would have wished to go home, but in your heart, maybe… there was something else too.”
No.
“Perhaps this is how the wish ticket manifested those conflicting desires. Your wish to go home, but also the wish to stay–”
“Stop.” Kim Soleum interrupts.
I don’t want to hear this.
Ho Yuwon obeys. He retracts his hand and places it on his lap. The two stare at each other in a heavy silence.
Kim Soleum breathes shakily. “This isn’t my home.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like ghost stories.”
“I know.”
“There’s… nothing here that would make me want to stay.”
“...I know.”
Ho Yuwon has a small smile on his face. It's bitter and sad. Kim Soleum looks away before he starts feeling too guilty.
His eyes land on the small garden outside, separated by a glass door. It reminds him of his very first time in the fox counseling office. At that time, he was contaminated heavily by an object from a darkness, a teacher’s handbook.
And the one who helped him snap out of it was…
“Soleum-nim, I’m sorry this happened… But I want to help.”
Kim Soleum hears a rustle of fabric and turns his head to see Ho Yuwon hopping off the bed. He makes the action seem fluid and easy. To the current Kim Soleum, who was putting all his strength into just sitting up, it made him feel tired just by watching it.
Ho Yuwon turns to him and extends his hand to Kim Soleum. This time, his smile is more confident.
“So let’s work together to figure this out, okay?” He says.
Kim Soleum looks at his hand, then meets the eye of the counselor.
“Okay.”
He takes the hand.