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Yoo Joonghyuk looked terrible.
It wasn’t something that could be avoided, as things currently were. The 95th scenario’s amount of fighting and bloodshed did not often leave one time to stay properly washed, and with Yoo Joonghyuk in his current state he wouldn’t have done so anyway. It left him greasy-haired and grimy and dark.
Well, that was my fault. On top of having been sleeping outside for the first couple of days, I had been so busy discussing strategy with Han Sooyoung that I had admittedly neglected him. But…
Even neck deep in his regression depression, he was still an adult man. He could fight and piss without assistance, so why did I need to tell him to get washed?
But looking at him now, hovering near the door frame like a dirty, discarded mop, I felt a little bad. During a pause in my conversation with Han Sooyoung, I instead looked to Yoo Joonghyuk and spoke out.
“Yoo Joonghyuk. Go use the baths downstairs and get washed and dressed.”
His empty eyes gazed at me, but he obediently turned to go. I felt a twinge of something in my chest.
Han Sooyoung watched this happen in silence, cigarette loose between her fingers. She mumbled around it as she put it to her lips again, “That bored that you need to play house with your doll?”
“I just thought it might be uncomfortable.”
“Well, we were just about finished anyway.” Han Sooyoung ground her cigarette out on the edge of the table, puffing out smoke. “You should go make sure he doesn’t kill someone on the way out. We’ll pick up again in the morning.”
I didn’t think things would go quite that far, so she was probably joking. I waved her off as I headed down to a lower floor of the building. I took my time. I had no desire to walk in on Yoo Joonghyuk in the baths, and people kept stopping me to talk, besides. Kim Namwoon trailed behind Lee Hyunsung as he came to ask about that morning’s monster attack, searching for either of our attentions– and then Lee Jihye’s instead, as she wandered up to join the conversation.This finished quickly enough, as they headed to dinner soon after.
I’d be sure to get some later as long as Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t fall asleep in the bath and drown.
I entered the baths a bit later. The facility was clean and organized, well-stocked with a surprising amount of amenities, and completely silent. It wasn’t too surprising, considering the time of night. But there should have been at least one person here…
And I did find him, after some searching. I half expected to see him miserably soaked under the showerhead but he was more or less cleaned up, mostly dressed with a towel around his shoulders to catch the drip from his hair. He did not look up when I entered.
… It was a bit of a sorry sight. I had to guess that he’d been waiting for me since he finished up, and even being more or less free of dirt he still looked haggard and unkempt. It was just sad.
“Yoo Joonghyuk,” I said, “let’s give you a shave. You’re looking patchy.” He wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell him that he looked rugged and handsome or anything to that effect, even if it was true. His beard had still grown out a bit too much for anyone’s comfort, much less his own, and it wasn’t kept properly besides.
Yoo Joonghyuk waited patiently while I prepared a fresh razor and shaving cream, and came to stand before him. I rolled up my sleeves, tilted his head up, and got to work lathering up his jawline. Something in his eyes seemed troubled, so I murmured my newly common mantra of “Remember, happy memories.”
His gaze unfocused, lost in the past once more.
Ways of Survival did not have many instances of Yoo Joonghyuk shaving, or performing any other sort of run-of-the-mill daily duties, but it did have some. Many times, it was brief mentions of him cleaning up in the mirror before a public event or as part of his normal routine. Rarely, Lee Seolhwa delicately and lovingly held his face to tidy him up. There was a memorable time when Kim Namwoon accidentally shaved a patch from his temple instead of his jaw while fooling around with a straight razor, and received a harsh punishment for his transgression.
I, now, simply took a disposable razor and tilted Yoo Joonghyuk’s head to carefully shave him. Swipe the razor, wipe the excess cream onto a spare towel, and repeat the process slightly to the left. It was almost soothing in its repetition. Swipe, wipe, repeat.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s body seemed to relax under the motions.
Swipe, wipe, repeat.
His blank eyes closed.
Swipe, wipe, repeat…
I swapped sides, and he pressed his cheek into my palm, his hand curled around my wrist. I froze.
It was impossible to know what he was thinking of, right now. The regression depression certainly had a firm hold on him, but as I watched him bury his face against my hand, I wondered just who it was he was seeing in his memories. I could have looked, with Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint. Perhaps I should have, to sate my awful curiosity.
Something wet dripped down Yoo Joonghyuk’s face, and onto my skin. I wiped it and the remnants of hair and shaving cream away with a damp towel, and pretended not to have seen it.