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Kim Dokja sat perched on a rickety stool in the middle of camp, flipping lazily through Han Sooyoung’s infamously ridiculous document titled Yoo Joonghyuk Facts No One Asked For. The firelight painted his face in flickering shadows as his eyes skimmed over sections like Dietary Habits: Likely more fish than is healthy for human consumption, and Personality: Unyielding glare with a 90% chance of violence.
Then, his gaze snagged on something interesting.
“Yoo Joonghyuk’s birthday is today?” Dokja’s voice cut through the evening stillness.
Across from him, Han Sooyoung didn’t even look up from her tablet. “Good job, Sherlock. What gave it away—the giant flashing date in the corner?”
Dokja ignored her sarcasm, sitting up straighter as an idea bloomed. Not because he cared about Yoo Joonghyuk’s birthday—of course not—but because a Yoo Joonghyuk birthday party would be delightful. Yoo Joonghyuk, the stoic regressor, faced with balloons and cake? The mental image alone was enough to send a rare grin spreading across Dokja’s face.
Han Sooyoung narrowed her eyes. “You’re plotting something stupid, aren’t you?”
“It’s called ‘team bonding,’” Dokja said, standing abruptly. “And it’s going to be glorious.”
-
The safe zone turned into an impromptu carnival of chaotic effort as Dokja roped the entire group into his scheme.
Shin Yoosung squatted in a patch of dirt, humming as she painted garish banners with glittery paint and childlike enthusiasm. Her latest masterpiece read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOO JOONGHYUK! in uneven but spirited letters. “Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked, holding it up proudly.
Lee Hyunsung, who was elbow-deep in cake batter at the makeshift kitchen, glanced over and gave her a reassuring nod. “It’s perfect, Shin Yoosung.” His brow furrowed with concentration as he carefully measured sugar into the bowl, muttering something about precision and chemistry.
Meanwhile, Han Sooyoung lounged on a nearby crate, typing furiously on her tablet. “I’m documenting this disaster in real-time,” she announced. “The constellations are eating it up. I’ve already gotten twenty messages saying this is the best thing they’ve ever seen.”
-
Above them, unseen by the group, the constellations were watching—quite literally eating up every moment.
The Star Stream flickered, a constant hum of digital activity as the celestial observers tuned into the chaotic spectacle unfolding below. Across the vast expanse of their endless space, a collective of beings—enthralled by the antics of these strange, mortal creatures—sent waves of excitement through the air, their collective voices vibrating in the endless cosmic ether.
Abysmal Black Flame Dragon , a being known for his impulsive nature, couldn’t help but comment, “Look at him! Is Yoo Joonghyuk really trying to avoid this? Hah, he won’t be able to resist! This birthday nonsense is going to break him, and I’m here for it. Someone get me some popcorn.”
Nearby, Demon-like Judge of Fire —who, to everyone’s amusement, was not-so-secretly a huge fan of the idea of Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja’s relationship—chimed in with far too much enthusiasm. “This is going to be perfect. Imagine him, stone-faced, trying to keep up with all this chaos, while Dokja stands there, smiling like he’s won a great victory. It’s basically their first real date, don’t you think?”
The constellations in the Star Stream paused at that, some sharing knowing chuckles while others privately agreed with the Judge. The chemistry between the two was undeniable. “I bet he’d be even more upset if he realized Dokja was orchestrating this whole thing.”
Then, Prisoner of the Golden Headband made his voice heard, his tone cold and indifferent, yet there was something reminiscent of a quiet, bitter longing beneath his words. “Foolishness. These mortal distractions do not matter. But I admit… I cannot look away.”
As Dokja continued to rally the group, the constellations remained fully engaged. “This is madness,” muttered Secretive Plotter , one of the most enigmatic and manipulative beings in the Star Stream. “But it’s also… brilliant. He’s creating a memory. That’s something no amount of time can take from them. If only we could intervene.”
-
Meanwhile, the usual chaotic crew kept things lively below.
Lee Gilyoung appeared from the edge of the forest, clutching a wriggling sack. “I found some monster eggs!” he said, beaming.
“No monster eggs!” Dokja barked, intercepting him. He glared at the sack like it might explode.
“Ah, that is a disaster,” Abysmal Black Flame Dragon laughed, unable to hold back. “That kid has no idea what he’s in for.”
[100 coins has been sponsored.]
The constellations exchanged more quips, their voices weaving between each other. “I have to admit, this is better than I expected,”Demon-like Judge of Fire said, her tone dripping with anticipation. “Yoo Joonghyuk’s getting too much enjoyment out of this. Maybe I’ll start shipping them even harder. Watch out, Yoo Joonghyuk, Dokja’s about to win your heart with cake.”
The excitement grew as the preparation continued. The constellations were captivated by the displays of teamwork— “If they only knew what they were creating, I might start getting emotional,” remarked Secretive Plotter .
The Prisoner of the Golden Headband murmured quietly, “It is strange. They do not realize how precious these moments are. The weight of them is heavy, yet fleeting.” He remained largely unamused by the antics but couldn’t help but observe, his attention fixated on the small group below.
Dokja, of course, was oblivious to the cosmic scrutiny as he barked commands and reined in the chaos. And as Shin Yoosung, Lee Hyunsung, and the rest worked together, the constellations continued their banter—each comment adding fuel to the fun that was quickly becoming an unexpected spectacle.
-
Meanwhile, Jeong Huiwon had taken it upon herself to keep Yoo Joonghyuk distracted, though it wasn’t exactly a challenge for someone as sharp as him. Her sword, a simple but solid weapon, sliced through the air with practiced precision. She swung it at him, aiming for his midsection.
Yoo Joonghyuk barely moved, his eyes tracking her every movement like a hawk. He sidestepped, his sword almost lazily held in his hand, watching her with a tilt of his head. “You’re holding back,” he said flatly, his voice low and controlled, like always.
Jeong Huiwon grinned, shifting her stance as she tried to feint. “Am not,” she said, her voice light and playful, though she couldn’t help but admire how quickly his eyes assessed her every move.
She lunged, aiming for his shoulder, but again he sidestepped with ease, her sword grazing the air where he had been just a moment ago. Her smile widened in defiance. “Do you think I’m not trying hard enough?”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression didn’t change—his lips barely twitching in a hint of a smirk. “No, you’re simply predictable.”
Frustration bubbled within her, and she adjusted, swinging wider this time, aiming for his legs. His gaze flickered briefly towards the distant camp where laughter and voices were just beginning to rise, floating faintly on the evening breeze. The sound was unmistakable, and his sharp, stoic expression darkened for a moment. He was too perceptive to miss the fact that something was off.
“What is going on?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked, his voice almost dangerously quiet. His hand hovered over his sword hilt as though he was ready for whatever might happen.
Jeong Huiwon, sensing his shift in attention, grinned even more widely and feigned innocence. “Nothing,” she said, her tone far too sweet to be convincing. She feigned swinging again, though she made sure to miss by a hair’s breadth.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he remarked, his eyes narrowing as he took another glance towards the camp.
Jeong Huiwon shrugged, then lowered her weapon. “And you’re terrible at celebrating your own birthday. Let’s call it even.”
He regarded her for a long moment before exhaling a quiet sigh, his shoulders stiff but his eyes unreadable. He said nothing, but she could feel the weight of his frustration, though it wasn’t aimed at her. He had caught on to her distraction technique, and in that moment, he seemed to know exactly what she was hiding.
“It’s time,” Jeong Huiwon said quietly, her voice a mix of challenge and reassurance. She gestured with a tilt of her head, signaling that the ruse was over. “The others are probably waiting.”
Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t respond, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. His eyes flickered briefly toward the camp in the distance. The game was up, and the weight of his responsibility seemed to settle back onto his shoulders. Without a word, he sheathed his sword and started walking in the direction she pointed.
-
As they approached, the vibrant energy of the camp met them like a wave. The chaotic hustle of preparations was impossible to ignore: Lee Hyunsung’s careful measurements of batter, Shin Yoosung’s squeals of joy as she painted her disastrous banners, and Han Sooyoung, leaning back with her tablet, her sharp commentary slicing through the air with every new development.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression remained hard, unreadable, but a faint hint of curiosity pulled at him, just enough to prevent him from turning away. He didn’t speak as Jeong Huiwon walked beside him, guiding him toward the center of the commotion. They had all been so determined to surprise him, and he couldn’t help but feel the growing sense of inevitability.
By the time they reached the center of the camp, the cake (was it still a cake at this point?) was already a mishmash of frosting and cake crumbs, half its structure having collapsed under the weight of the chaos. Despite the disaster, the group was still buzzing with excitement, their laughter infectious in a way that even Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t quite ignore.
He stopped for a moment, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the mess. The sight didn’t evoke anger. In fact, it was the first time that day his expression softened ever so slightly. He had no words, but the flicker of something—was it amusement? Maybe a faint recognition of their effort?—stirred within him.
-
“Make a wish!” Shin Yoosung’s voice rang out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She bounced on her heels, her infectious energy filling the air.
Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the candle, the flickering light reflecting in his cold, unreadable eyes. For a moment, he was silent, lost in his thoughts, his gaze unwavering as he considered the tiny flame. The warmth of the flicker contrasted sharply with the icy tension he carried within himself.
The Star Stream was ablaze with commentary, each constellation chiming in with their thoughts.
“Make a wish, Yoo Joonghyuk! You deserve it—maybe one day you’ll wish for more fun surprises like this!” Demon-like Judge of Fire teased, knowing well that the regressor wasn’t likely to give in.
In the background, Abysmal Black Flame Dragon’s excitement was palpable. “500 coins to get Yoo Joonghyuk to finally crack and smile! Anyone else betting on this? I’d say it’s worth a million coins just for that moment.”
[The constellation Abysmal Black Flame Dragon is amused.]
[500 coins has been sponsored.]
Yoo Joonghyuk thought about everything that had led up to this moment—his endless regressions, the weight of responsibility, and the unyielding nature of the paths he was forced to walk. Birthdays had never mattered to him, a symbol of the normality he had been stripped of long ago. This was a farce, a ridiculous event that didn’t deserve his attention.
Yet, as he blew out the candle, the smallest of cracks appeared in his usual impassive demeanour. The group, caught in their own excitement, erupted in cheers. It wasn’t much—just the faintest hint of softening in his expression—but for those who knew him, it was a victory.
“I’ll take that as a win,” Prisoner of the Golden Headband commented, their tone more amused than usual. “A small crack in that stone façade. It’s… something.”
He thought to himself, perhaps only for a second, that maybe, just maybe, these people—this bizarre, mismatched group of individuals—were worth tolerating, even if they couldn’t get his birthday right.
He wiped the stray crumbs from his hands, looking up at the group with an expression of feigned indifference, but it was impossible to ignore the brief warmth in his gaze as he glanced at each of them.
-
Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze lingered on the chaotic remnants of the cake, the frosting smeared across the table like a battle wound. But the group around him didn’t seem to mind. If anything, they seemed more energised by the disaster than deterred.
Shin Yoosung practically skipped to the table, a gleaming knife in her hand, already prepared for the next stage of the evening’s absurdity. She gave the knife an exaggerated flourish, as if it were an instrument of great significance, and held it out to Yoo Joonghyuk.
“Please cut the cake Captain!” she said brightly, her voice so full of enthusiasm that it was impossible to deny the moment. Her eyes were wide, like a child presenting a gift that couldn’t be returned.
Yoo Joonghyuk hesitated, his fingers brushing against the handle of the knife. It felt heavy in his hand, not because of its weight, but because it was a symbol—a marker of this odd, chaotic celebration. It wasn’t a battle or a challenge. No, this was something far more unpredictable. For a moment, he thought about handing the knife back, but then he glanced at the group, their faces full of expectancy.
“Go ahead, Joonghyuk,” Jeong Huiwon said, her voice light but encouraging. There was a playful edge to her tone, as though daring him to follow through. “We’ve all worked so hard for this moment.”
He looked down at the cake, which was barely recognizable as any sort of dessert at all. Crumbles and frosting mixed in a lumpy, half-collapsed form. It seemed fitting in its own chaotic way.
Without another word, he cut into the cake. The knife sank through the soft, soggy layers with an almost comical squish, and the group’s eyes widened in anticipation. The frosting squelched out from the cracks, leaving behind streaks of pastel pink and blue.
Shin Yoosung was the first to react. She clapped her hands together, practically bouncing. “Perfect! It’s… well, it’s a bit of a mess, but I think it’s still cake!” she said, her enthusiasm infectious despite the disaster.
“It’s definitely a disaster,” Han Sooyoung added, her grin sharp as she snapped a picture of the cake’s remains. “But it’s a memorable one.”
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was the absurdity of the moment or the way they all seemed to genuinely enjoy the chaos, but it pulled something out of him. He glanced at the group, their laughter filling the air, and felt something stir in his chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
He handed the knife over to Shin Yoosung with a quiet sigh, still maintaining his usual composure, but something about the moment softened the lines of his face.
“Enjoy it,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though it didn’t quite match the amusement flickering in his eyes. For once, the chaos didn’t seem as tiresome. Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to indulge in this oddity, if only for a moment.
The group dove into the cake with abandon, frosting flying and crumbs scattering everywhere. For a brief, fleeting moment, the weight of their struggles seemed to fade, replaced by the sheer absurdity of it all. And despite himself, Yoo Joonghyuk allowed himself to watch the scene unfold with a quiet sense of acceptance—maybe even fondness. This, he thought, was what it meant to belong to something, however ridiculous it might seem.
-
After the cake, the gift-giving portion of the evening began, much to Yoo Joonghyuk’s annoyance. He had tried several times to leave, but each attempt had been blocked by someone with a gift in hand.
Lee Hyunsung was the first to step forward, holding out a neatly wrapped package. “I’ve been working on this for weeks,” he said earnestly. “It’s a weapon polish kit. For your sword. I thought you might need it.”
Yoo Joonghyuk took the kit from him with an unreadable expression, his fingers brushing the smooth, well-wrapped surface. He didn’t speak, but he did offer a silent nod of acknowledgment, though it was clear he didn’t particularly want or need the gift.
As he took the kit, Abysmal Black Flame Dragon cackled saying, “For a gift that will make the man of steel even sharper! Good choice, Hyunsung!”
[The constellation Abysmal Black Flame Dragon agrees that a blade needs polishing sometimes.]
[200 coins has been sponsored.]
Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, ever enthusiastic, stepped forward next. They held up a card, hastily scribbled but brimming with affection. It was covered in stick figures of Yoo Joonghyuk slaying dragons, each battle more exaggerated than the last. The card was so childishly drawn that it made Yoo Joonghyuk freeze for a moment, staring at it with a strange mix of confusion and something else—maybe amusement or love if that was even possible.
“It’s a battle card,” Yoosung explained proudly. “You’ve killed so many things, we thought you’d like it.”
Yoo Joonghyuk held the card between his fingers, staring at the crude drawings, his brow furrowing slightly. There was no response, but his grip softened for a moment. His eyes flicked to Lee Gilyoung, who was grinning up at him.
[ Secretive Plotter has sponsored 300 coins for the most ‘epic’ birthday card of the year.]
This comment from the constellations was almost immediately followed by a sharp laugh from Demon-like Judge of Fire — “If this doesn’t make him smile, I’m betting 1,000 coins on Dokja’s gift pulling it off.”
Han Sooyoung, clearly pleased with her own creativity, handed him a small slip of paper. “One Day Without Insults,” she read with exaggerated seriousness. “Redeemable never.”
Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the paper, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “Is this supposed to be funny?” he asked, voice clipped.
“Take it as you will,” Han Sooyoung said, looking far too satisfied with herself. “It’s a token of our appreciation for all the times you’ve graced us with your kindness.”
[ Demon-like Judge of Fire wants to see Yoo Joonghuk redeem the paper slip.]
[ Demon-like Judge of Fire bets that it’s never going to happen.]
[200 coins has been sponsored.]
This would’ve evoked a loud cackle from Han Sooyoung, clearly having the time of her life interacting with the constellations.
Finally, Kim Dokja stepped forward with a book in his hands, holding it out to Yoo Joonghyuk with an obnoxious grin. “The Art of Not Being a Jerk,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement.
Yoo Joonghyuk took the book, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, in a flash, he threw it at Dokja’s head.
It hit Dokja square in the face with an audible thud, sending the others into fits of laughter. For a split second, Yoo Joonghyuk looked… content. His gaze remained fixed on Dokja, but there was something almost doting in the way he looked at the book—like the act of throwing it had been the closest thing to a celebration he was willing to offer.
“Oof, that hit hard,” Prisoner of the Golden Headband commented, clearly enjoying the moment. “200 coins to see that book make contact, and I’m honestly not even mad.”
[200 coins has been sponsored.]
The Star Stream lit up with reactions. “I’d say Yoo Joonghyuk deserves some coins for that, though I do hope his ‘art of not being a jerk’ will be improved by all of this.” Abysmal Black Flame Dragon added.
[ Abysmal Black Flame Dragon says Yoo Joonghyuk throws things too much.]
[ Abysmal Black Flame Dragon says he wants to see Yoo Joonghyuk finally accept kindness.]
[300 coins has been sponsored.]
-
Later, after most of the group had returned to their respective tents, Shin Yoosung burst into Dokja’s tent, her eyes wide with barely contained excitement. She clapped her hands as she bounced on the toes of her feet.
“He kept it!” she whispered in awe.
Dokja blinked, unsure of what she meant. “What?”
“The card!” she exclaimed. “He has it on his desk. You should see it—he kept it!”
“I knew it! He really did keep it!” Demon-like Judge of Fire laughed. “I’m calling this a victory—some coins from me for the heartwarming moment of our cold regressor cherishing the gift.”
[ Demon-like Judge of Fire claps her hands in joy. ]
[1000 coins has been sponsored.]
Dokja stared at Yoosung for a moment, then allowed a rare, genuine smile to play on his lips. For once, his usual sarcastic response evaded him, and he simply nodded.
Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t rejected them.
Not completely.
And that was enough for tonight.
“How cute. If this was a novel, this would be the heartwarming chapter that no one would have expected,” Secretive Plotter commented with a knowing tone, followed by a soft, pleased sigh.
“I’m sponsoring 500 coins to keep this trend going. I want to see more moments like this.”