Work Text:
Throughout his life Lee Hakhyun felt like he was missing a fundamental part of himself.
Memories, thoughts, feelings and emotions; everything that makes a person. Sometimes the pieces were missing. Other times he couldn’t discern the origin of the pieces he found, small bits of subconsciousness that weren’t there before. The overall picture of his mind was messy and incomplete.
He couldn’t remember some parts of his life very clearly. He only heard the general story of his childhood from his parents. Jokingly, they said he was like a little alien back then, coming to this planet in form of their son, slowly learning the principles of this new foreign world. He was a calm child, rarely expressing any emotion in a loud way. He spent a lot of time in front of a mirror, staring at the image yet not fully connecting it to himself. He read a lot of books with his mother, resulting in his mind becoming more engrossed in the fictional stories rather than the present.
Despite him showing some concerning symptoms of depersonalization and derealization, his parents were convinced there wasn’t anything wrong with him. He had an exceptionally creative and clever mind for a kid his age. Getting an assignment to draw his family in class one day, he drew himself under a night sky, watching the twinkling stars. It felt like the natural thing to draw. Strangely enough, the teacher was very impressed with his metaphorical thinking, showing the drawing to his parents and saying, “Your child might be a genius.” All geniuses have a few screws loose, after all.
And occasionally, unfamiliar memories flooded his mind. Like that time in his first creative writing class, all students being forced to confess their trauma in front of each other. He told a tale about his poor mother, stuck in an abusive relationship. About being protected by her, the woman not letting the violent drunkard of a husband lay a single hand on him. About holding the knife in front of himself, and accidentally stabbing his father with it. Clearly, the story had nothing to do with his actual life, it was all a lie. Still, it felt like he had lived that life at some point, in some distant universe.
His school life was relatively peaceful yet he’s seen little glimpses of memories of being bullied and beaten up by his classmates. He recalls opening the classroom window and getting onto the windowsill, then making a step forward. He recalls spending months in the hospital room, filled with bitter resentment at the fact of staying alive.
Those memories had been coming out of nowhere, he knew they couldn’t be his own experiences since they weren’t in line with his current reality and the things his parents had told him. Yet, after seeing such clear glimpses of another universe, he couldn’t help the doubts creeping up on him. Which parts of his life actually belonged to him and which was he lacking? He couldn’t know for sure. Only one thing was certain, the feelings those recollections brought on were undeniably real, making him a part of an unknown story, spoken in broken sentences.
Lee Hakhyun often has dreams of the worlds different from his own. They’ve been continuing for a few years now.
He dreams of meeting a hero, finding reliable companions and going on many fantastic adventures with them. He dreams about becoming a demon king, then an angel, then an outer god. After that, he becomes the universe itself.
At times he remembers how good it feels to be omniscient, to be strong, to be useful. Other times he’s filled with the sorrowful feeling of being weak and pathetic, cruel and terribly wrong. Yet the people he’d met still accepted him, no matter the mistakes he made.
He dreams of being loved. For his dream self, it felt scarier than fighting monsters, even scarier than dying. It was a fear he couldn’t comprehend or interpret.
However, lately he’s been experiencing a recurring nightmare of being left out by the people he trusted the most. He dreams of pain from the cut on his shoulder, made by the writer’s dagger. His companions looking at him with wary, suspicious eyes; whispering behind his back. Despite it still being himself, he wasn’t enough for them. He was missing something and he didn’t know how to get it back.
One of these nights, Lee Hakhyun awakens with a sensation of hot tears running down his cheeks and a hollow feeling in his chest. Albeit painful, it comes with a sudden determination.
Those dreams always felt so real, he knew they couldn’t just be the product of his own imaginative mind. Detailed visuals and well-thought storylines continuing each night seemed to be the key he’s been missing. The person he was in those dreams was very similar yet different to his usual self. They both shared a deep love for stories, dedicating themselves wholeheartedly to reaching the desired ending. Regardless of his career as a writer, Lee Hakhyun was first and foremost a reader. And his dream reader wrote his own story in some faraway universe. Yet, he couldn’t comprehend the conclusion.
In all honesty, he’s already forgotten when and why he decided to become a writer. Maybe it was the novels his mother read to him, saying something about them being the means to the world peace, or maybe it was his own inclination and natural talent towards creative writing. The initial reason isn’t as important anymore. Because right now, the only thing on his mind is writing just one story.
Story of one universe becoming ‘two’. Story of a person being loved and a person being betrayed.
And perhaps, a story that could connect the broken narrative of his own life.
That’s how “Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint” came to be in this world.
It was a hit. The first of his web novels gathering so much attention, it’s getting published as a physical book.
Now as a slightly successful writer, Lee Hakhyun gets to attend his first ever book signing event. Initiated by his publisher, it’s being held on the 1st volume’s release day at a fairly small bookstore in Gwanghwamun. He wasn’t particularly nervous about it; the whole deal just seemed rather awkward to him. He didn’t have many friends nor acquaintances interested in his work enough to listen, hence why the writer never really discussed it with anyone besides Ji Eunyu, his brilliant editor.
Thus, meeting his actual readers in person, seeing their bright faces and smiles, everyone acting polite yet with a twinge of excitement, Lee Hakhyun finally understood what it meant to be an author. Hearing the enthusiasm in their voices when they expressed their personal thoughts and interpretations of different scenes, he realised one simple truth.
Perhaps, no matter how well he learnt to express himself in his writing, the things he meant to say could never reach another. Each word and each sentence could hold multiple meanings from person to person. The story he wrote and the story they read could be entirely different. Everyone took a piece from his story and made it their own.
He was happy nonetheless. Nobody was here to call his writing insincere anymore. People read and loved his story, whatever fragments they collected from it, he was only happy to give. Many complimented his writing, noting how the carefully chosen words made them feel. Despite feeling self-conscious at the praise, Lee Hakhyun appreciated the thoughtfulness. Some people showed him small pieces of self-made merchandise, others wore cosplay of their favourite characters from the novel. Truly, reading anonymous comments on the novel website could never compare to this.
After nearly two hours, the number of people in line for the book signing has significantly decreased, signaling the nearing end of the event.
That’s when he noticed one particular reader.
He was the last person in line, seeming to be one of the cosplaying bunch. His outfit – which consisted of black pants, a dress shirt and, most notably, a white trench coat – matched the novel’s protagonist’s perfectly. Out of all Kim Dokja cosplayers he saw that day, Lee Hakhyun thought, this man pulled it off best, graceful and effortless. It truly amazed the writer how neatly this reader’s appearance aligned with the character’s image in his head. He wondered if anyone else have noticed this person, yet other readers didn’t seem to pay him any attention, not even glancing his way.
Pulled out of his stupor by a hesitant “Author-nim?” from the reader in front of him, he quickly apologised and handed them the signed book.
With it being the man’s turn now, he could finally take a good look at his face.
He was around Lee Hakhyun’s age, his overall image wasn’t very memorable and seemed quite plain at a first glance, but the longer he looked, the more captivating his facial features became. As a matter of fact, he never described his protagonist’s face in great detail. The reason behind it was simple, he couldn’t imagine it. Judging by the build and hair color, he knew that the reader from his dreams had a distinct appearance, different from Lee Hakhyun. But not once could he recall his face.
Now looking at this person, he was hit with a sense of déjà vu. The reader had soft facial features, a gentle look in his deep brown eyes combined with a slight smile directed at Lee Hakhyun. The man was undeniably handsome. And for some reason, the writer had a strong feeling this wasn’t the first time he’s seen this exact countenance. As if he could clearly imagine this person’s reflection looking back at him from the train’s window, smeared with blood. Maybe, he had actually seen this face in his dreams. Or maybe, – an inexplicable hunch – it was the face staring at him countless times from his own mirror.
The man had a confident air around him and wasn’t at all nervous when engaging in conversation with the author. They exchanged a polite greeting, followed by the reader’s soft words on how delighted he was to finally meet the creator of this novel. He admitted to harboring deep curiosity about the writer and his brilliant mind for having come up with such a story. Though slightly unsettling, these words left Lee Hakhyun feeling oddly shy, considering how they seemed to be directed at him personally, and not just the author of Omniscient Reader. That, and the intense gaze of this reader certainly didn’t help to ease the embarrassment.
Holding out his book copy to the author, the man asked him a question.
“Author-nim, don’t you wish to write your own story?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve already written, in fact, a number of them,” Lee Hakhyun answered, not fully comprehending the reader’s words.
“I don’t mean the story this world’s been demanding of you. Not the Kim Dokja’s story,” he paused. The writer couldn’t help the nervousness at anticipating the following sentences. “But the one you’ve had in mind for a very long time already. The story to make you remember, to think and to feel. I believe I can help you with that.”
These bizarre sentences, spoken in a smooth, bewitching voice left Lee Hakhyun feeling dizzy. Glancing up at the reader’s face, he couldn’t suppress the shivers running down his spine.
“Don’t you want to live your own life, not somebody else’s, Lee Hakhyun-ssi?”
This man could see right through him.
“I think our time’s up,” the writer quickly replied, feeling short of breath. “Can I have your name? For the sign,” he asked, once again shifting his attention towards the book copy on the table.
“It’s Kim Dokja,” the reader said casually, yet the words caught Lee Hakhyun completely off-guard. At his questioning look, the man only gave an unfortunate smile.
Despite the situation getting rather strange, Lee Hakhyun wrote a small message. It was a stupid and very dangerous thing to do. And yet, the writer didn’t think this man had bad intentions. Rather, he seemed to know something, something about the things Lee Hakhyun was missing. Maybe, the whole point of him writing this story was to find this one reader.
He passed the book to the man. Their fingers touched, a subtle tingle spreading across his skin.
Kim Dokja didn’t immediately pull his hand away as if relishing the contact.
Then, opening the book, he smiled gently when he read the message. Looking at such an expression, Lee Hakhyun felt his heart flutter for an unknown reason.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, author-nim. I’ll be looking forward to your story.”
The writer gave a small nod, watching the retreating back of a person who seemed to hold all of the answers he was looking for.
To Kim Dokja-ssi,
I hope the story we share can reach the ■■ we both desire.
Sincerely, Lee Hakhyun
010-XXXX-XXXX
That night, Lee Hakhyun had a new dream.
He stood in a vast snowfield, gleaming stars scattered across the night sky. Seemingly alone, yet Lee Hakhyun didn’t feel lonely in this place. He heard quiet whispers of stories carried by the wind, saw glimpses of the distant worldlines reflected in the sky. This supposedly blank space was full of life.
Casting his eyes to the ground, he saw a trail of footprints. He decided to follow them, leaving his own mark on the pristine snow.
It felt like a long time had passed when he spotted a person’s figure on the horizon. His back was turned to the writer, so he couldn’t see his face, yet the identity of this person was clear to him. Quickening his step, he soon closed the distance between them. Standing next to the person, Lee Hakhyun noticed his gaze was directed towards the starry sky, drinking in whatever story he saw there.
A moment later, the man in the white coat turned to him.
“I’ve been waiting for you, author-nim.”
The face that greeted him was undeniably Kim Dokja’s face.
It wasn’t surprising how things escalated from here.
Confusion, curiosity and unexplainable attraction; Lee Hakhyun was torn by different feelings this Kim Dokja has evoked in him. Oddly drawn to this stranger, he was restless with anticipation to hear from him again.
As he’d hoped, he received a message from Kim Dokja the next morning.
Unknown number: Hello, this is Kim Dokja from yesterday’s book signing. I hope I’m not bothering you right now?
Me: Hello, Kim Dokja-ssi! Not at all, I’m happy to hear from you so soon.
And just like that, their daily message has exchange started.
Now, the weirdest thing about this all was how normal Kim Dokja was (and that, in spite of his initial doubt, turned out to be the man’s real name). He didn’t bring up the topic of their discussion at the event and Lee Hakhyun wasn’t sure how to mention it himself.
They discussed mundane things such as their hobbies, various likes and dislikes, gradually learning more little facts about each other’s lives and personalities. Sometimes Kim Dokja would talk about a new novel he’s read recently, and Lee Hakhyun would share some ideas and small concepts for his future writing. Since both were a bit of a fiction maniacs, these conversations were highly stimulating, with both of them giving their opinions and thoughts on various plot points.
It was a wonder, how easily they found their own unique rhythm and integrated into each other’s lives. Their personalities were similar, but not the same, more like a reflection of one another. Whenever Lee Hakhyun was struggling for words, Kim Dokja understood him without them, gently guiding towards the answer he sought. Whenever Kim Dokja’s words took on a melancholic undertone, Lee Hakhyun offered him a different perspective, effectively lifting the mood of his sentences.
He soon learnt that Kim Dokja was older than him by a few months which made it even more embarrassing to be addressed as “Lee Hakhyun-ssi” or “author-nim” by the reader. After several weeks of knowing this fact, Lee Hakhyun finally mustered the courage to address him as “Hyung” and got called “Hakhyun-ah” in return. This informal, almost intimate way of addressing each other truly signified how close they became in a matter of few months.
Despite being pretty talkative on the topic of novels and the burdens of day-to-day life, Kim Dokja never actually shared much of his personal information. The writer still didn’t know what exactly this man did for a living or how far away he lived. He always responded within a few minutes regardless of time of the day, and never seemed particularly busy with anything.
Lee Hakhyun couldn’t help it. He felt powerless by the way he was getting irrevocably entangled in this Kim Dokja’s world by the day, bits and pieces of their stories entwining together. He could almost forget his initial purpose for leaving his phone number to Kim Dokja, if not for the dreams he’s been having ever since.
In those dreams, he kept meeting the same Kim Dokja on the snowfield. It was a bizarre hypothesis, however, the writer was sure the person he texted during the day and the person he met at night were one and the same. Furthermore, Kim Dokja himself was fully aware of it. It was evident in the way he knew things about Lee Hakhyun which he’d only spoken of in his dreams.
Neither acknowledged it.
These days, snowfield Kim Dokja always greets him with a warm cup of herbal tea, perhaps prompted by Lee Hakhyun’s offhand remark about his favourite blend. Sometimes they would sit in comfortable silence next to each other, gazing at faraway universes. Sometimes they would talk.
The writer’s actually been looking forward to falling asleep lately. He knew that no nightmares of being left behind would wait for him anymore, only the comforting presence of his protagonist, his Kim Dokja. Albeit intangible, this snowfield has become his own little sanctuary. It was a place where Lee Hakhyun could share all of his burdens without the fear of being judged or misunderstood. And on one of these nights, he finally decided to talk about the hidden sides of his self.
He told Kim Dokja about his strange memories and lack thereof. Sudden thoughts and urges, that he could never fully recognise as his own. His struggles with the emotional side of things, always feeling too much or too little. His vivid dreams, which came to be the “Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint”.
He spoke about how he never felt truly himself. Who was he supposed to be, anyway?
And Kim Dokja, wearing an inscrutable expression on his face, replied, “It must’ve been difficult for you. I know first-hand how it feels being forced to live someone else’s life, denied of having your own sense of self. But now, you and I have nothing to worry about, Hakhyun-ah. Everything will start to make sense soon.”
His words filled the spaces in Lee Hakhyun’s heart, akin to missing puzzle pieces.
Another thing about snowfield Kim Dokja was displays of affection. He was oddly generous with it, often giving the writer little touches like a pat on a head or a gentle press of his fingers around his hand. And whenever their bare skin touched, little sparks would fly up in the air, forming words that neither chose to say out loud. Lee Hakhyun, mesmerized, would stare at the sentences swirling into the night sky, with Kim Dokja looking fondly at him.
One night, when Lee Hakhyun was particularly upset and frustrated with his work, Kim Dokja greeted him with a firm embrace. It was so comforting, it might’ve been the first time Lee Hakhyun felt such warm in his life.
For the first time in his life, Lee Hakhyun felt so present.
It was nice to be cared for, and it was especially nice to be the object of Kim Dokja’s care. Being so close to this enigmatic man, who held the secrets of his universe, Lee Hakhyun felt a longing he’s never experienced before. He wanted to be even closer, never parting with this person, being each other’s company for all eternity. It was a wish he never imagined he would have, not with the scattered pieces his mind was built of.
Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, Lee Hakhyun muttered into Kim Dokja’s shoulder, “Hyung, I want to meet you again.”
“But I’m here. I’ll always be here for you,” came the reader’s reply, followed by his hand, soothingly stroking the writer’s back. His gentle caress only made Lee Hakhyun cry even harder.
Lips quivering, he tried to explain, “I cherish the moments we spend together in the snowfield, Dokja-hyung, I really do. But I don’t want the words we write together to be lost between the lines, in the blank space of unconsciousness. What I want is for them to find meaning in reality. Remember what you told me when we first met? You said you could help me write my own story, Lee Hakhyun’s story. I want you to be the first and only reader of this story, I want to share it with you,” he gave a short pause. “I believe that only with you by my side I can finally connect the elusive words into coherent, tangible sentences.”
He was so immersed in his speech, the sudden feeling of a warm hand cupping his wet cheek took him by surprise. Wide-eyed, he looked up at Kim Dokja, meeting his intense gaze.
“I hear you, Hakhyun-ah. I’m not going back on my word. If that’s what you want, that is. We’ll meet each other soon.”
The writer was unable to voice, or even think of a response, before he realised Kim Dokja’s face was getting significantly closer to his own. Eyes darkened with a clear intent, the reader was slowly closing the distance between them, until their lips were a mere breath apart.
Body shivering with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, Lee Hakhyun closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable – and much wanted – connection of warmth.
In that moment, Kim Dokja stops, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
And Lee Hakhyun is snapped out of the dream with a screeching sound of the morning alarm and his own racing heartbeat.
True to his word, on the same day Kim Dokja sent a text with the time and place. By now he probably knew Lee Hakhyun’s schedule by heart, so picking the appropriate time wasn’t difficult. They will meet on the subway station, the one closest to Lee Hakhyun’s place.
Their last rendezvous in the snowfield left the writer’s mind in a mess. While getting ready to go out, Lee Hakhyun was still stuck on the memory of the almost kiss they shared. It was certainly a gesture, filled with the promise of things to come. Mind reeling with possibilities, he knew that after this meeting something will irrevocably change between them.
Something will change in his life forever.
“You’re not regretting it, Hakhyun-ah?” came the sound of Kim Dokja’s smooth voice.
“I’m not. Not now, not ever, hyung,” replied Lee Hakhyun, full of conviction. Turning to face his reader, he smiled, “The only purpose of the life I’ve lived to this point was finding you. You know it yourself, right?”
Everything made sense in his mind, now. He understood the sadness of his reader, his grudge towards his own identity as ‘Kim Dokja’. Unable to bear it alone, he sought out his reincarnation in different worldlines, finally stumbling upon the writer’s Earth. Their minds were linked from the very beginning, resulting in shared memories, thoughts, feelings and emotions; everything that made Kim Dokja and Lee Hakhyun.
Surrounded by the gleaming stars and floating sentences, both were looking at the commotion at the subway station, caused by a person jumping on the railway tracks. That person being none other than Lee Hakhyun.
Kim Dokja held Lee Hakhyun’s hand. Without an incarnation body, it wasn’t clear where one ended and the other began. Their souls were intricately connected, intertwined in a shared story.
A system message was blinking at them.
「Your ■■ is ‘Recording of a dream’.」
Somewhere that isn’t this world, we were connected a long time ago.
Our DNA links us to each other, tangled and deeply intertwined.