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Every adult had to consider modes of transportation. A lot of people thought, “I’ll buy a subway pass” and considered the topic closed. But Kim Dokja’s family owned a car. This was one of the first things they bought after invading Kim Dokja’s life via fourth-dimensional breaking-and-entering.
“We’re not taking the subway if we don’t have to,” Yoo Joonghyuk said firmly. Kim Dokja had considered protesting – a car was a lot, and he didn’t have problems with the subway –
(an empty, lonely station. nothing to accompany you but your thoughts. a story, continuing on and on and on and –)
– but in the end, nobody really argued, so they bought a second-hand minivan, big enough for them to go places as a family.
With a car came the question of who would drive it. Usually, this was Lee Hyunsung, sometimes Yoo Joonghyuk. Lee Jihye could drive the car, but normally took the subway. Kim Namwoon talked about driving the car, but never did it when Kim Dokja was around. Uriel… it was unclear. Occasionally, she talked like she flew places, wings and all.
Kim Dokja had never driven the car. This was, at first, because he was underage and therefore it was illegal. Then he was busy with school. Then university exams. Upon passing university exams and entering the relief of summer vacation, Kim Dokja was out of excuses. One morning, Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him over his non-gaming laptop and said, “You should learn to drive.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Kim Dokja said reflexively. Then he actually thought about it. His family had a car. It made sense to learn how to drive it.
“Okay. Yeah, sure.”
Yoo Joonghyuk nodded and returned to glaring at haters in his comment section. Like this, the morning passed by normally.
The key to every successful exam was thorough preparation.
Lee Jihye gave Kim Dokja her notecards. Yoo Joonghyuk gave him a course driving simulator game. Uriel gave him encouragement. Kim Namwoon told him everything was easy and not to worry about it.
Whatever, Kim Dokja was well-prepared. He was so well-prepared that he immediately got a license and everything was great.
… That would be something, wouldn’t it?
“You did a good job!” Uriel said, over a celebratory omurice lunch that was disappointingly not as good as Yoo Joonghyuk’s cooking. Luckily, everyone was more focused on exam results.
Kim Dokja had miraculously blown through the written exam and the course driving test. But after all that, he’d only gotten the basic learner’s license. He could take the road test for the full license immediately after, if he felt his completely untested driving skills were sufficient to pass with flying colors.
Kim Dokja was not this confident, so this was not the decision he made.
“If somebody could teach me,” Kim Dokja said leadingly.
“I’ll do it!” Lee Hyunsung said brightly. “But, um…”
As the only respectably-employed person here, Lee Hyunsung was busy, with a week-long security conference in Busan. So: no lessons.
“Someone else can teach me while Hyunsung-hyung is gone?”
No. For some reason, everyone agreed Lee Hyunsung should be first.
“Right,” Kim Dokja said, vaguely disappointed. It would’ve been nice to quickly make use of his new license. Well, a week was barely anything. Kim Dokja could wait that long, no problem.
“Don’t scream, it’s just me!” Kim Namwoon hissed.
Kim Dokja hadn’t expected a dark figure looming over him in the middle of the night.
“Why are you in my room?” Kim Dokja hissed back, prying Kim Namwoon’s hand away from his mouth. His heart was beating out of his chest. His blood was full of adrenaline. His fist was going to impact Kim Namwoon’s face.
“Thought I’d be nice today,” Kim Namwoon said, which didn’t explain anything, and then, “You wanna drive?”
“... You’re going to teach me to drive?”
“I’m not going to if you keep complaining. God.”
It didn’t take very long for Kim Dokja to get in the car.
It was only when Kim Namwoon said, “We’re going to learn something called a J-turn,” that Kim Dokja realized this activity was suspect.
“A U-turn?” Kim Dokja said warily.
“Haha, no, those are boring. A J-turn is way more fun.”
“...What’s a J-turn.”
A J-Turn, Kim Namwoon enthusiastically explained, was like a U-Turn, in that you spun the car 180 degrees, except you did it while wildly reversing like you were getting chased by the demons of hell. In other words: it was a stunt move that Kim Dokja would realistically never use in his life.
“Shouldn’t I be learning a U-turn first?”
Kim Namwoon rolled his eyes. “Just turn your wheel all the way and hit the gas. That’s it. You didn’t need me for that. Now, the J-turn –”
“I still haven’t done a U-turn.”
“Fine, just do one now!”
“How?”
“I just told you–”
They continued this dubious instruction for some time, Kim Dokja begrudgingly performing the occasional Kim-Namwoon-mandated life-threatening swerve, right up until they noticed sirens and the flashing lights of the Seoul police force.
“Uh,” Kim Dokja said.
“Fun fact,” Kim Namwoon said. “The J-turn is also called the moonshiner’s turn, because bootleggers would use this to avoid cops. You’re going to put that into practice today.”
“I don’t want to?”
“Too bad!”
“Can you teach me how to drive,” Kim Dokja said.
Somebody needed to teach Kim Dokja how to drive before Kim Namwoon decided it was time for another lesson. It was going to take forever for Lee Hyunsung to come back; luckily, there were three other options right here.
“Lee Hyunsung will do it,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, but he already looked considering. Had Yoo Joonghyuk been thinking about teaching him this entire time? That was awesome. Not that Kim Dokja really thought about this! Not that he’d been thinking about this ever since he’d read that sequence with the SSS-class Ferrarigini!!!
“Are you busy?” Kim Dokja said. “Do you have time right now?”
“I’ve got a stream.”
“...Oh.”
Yoo Joonghyuk took out his phone. “It’s fine. I’ll cancel it.”
This was the sort of attitude that pissed off all his fans. They were going to send a barrage of hate comments about it and then Yoo Joonghyuk was going to sit in a corner grimly reading all of them. Kim Dokja almost felt bad.
Well! This wasn’t his problem.
Kim Dokja cheerfully set his own phone on silent to ignore the comment notification storm to come. “So, what are we doing?”
The answer was drills. Lots and lots of drills. This was unexciting, but Kim Dokja supposed it was a relief that he didn’t have to fear for his life and criminal record. They drove in a loop around the same block, over and over, with Yoo Joonghyuk periodically reminding Kim Dokja not to run over pedestrians.
“...Why do you keep telling me not to run over pedestrians,” Kim Dokja said after the tenth time hearing the same thing.
“Human lives shouldn’t be taken lightly,” Yoo Joonghyuk said reasonably, and then, less reasonably, “You’ll get in trouble with the police if you run over pedestrians.”
“What,” Kim Dokja said.
“If you run over people,” Yoo Joonghyuk continued, “they’ll pull you over and find out you don’t have a license.”
From Kim Dokja’s point of view, this seemed to be the wrong thing to be concerned about, but before he could say that, Yoo Joonghyuk added, “I don’t have a license.”
“What.”
“I’m going to the grocery store anyway, so I thought you’d like to drive,” Uriel said.
She waved the family grocery list in the air for emphasis. It had been taken from the fridge and replaced with a little cartoon Uriel drawing that said: “Gone shopping! <3”
“Okay,” Kim Dokja said warily.
“Relax, it’ll be fine!”
It really did seem like it’d be fine.
You know, up until a car drove into his lane out of fucking nowhere.
Kim Dokja’s life flashed before his eyes. He veered sharply away and only avoided crashing into a different car out of sheer luck. The person that Kim Dokja nearly killed aggressively honked in response.
“What the – pull over!” Uriel shouted.
With some difficulty, Kim Dokja pulled over into an on-street parking space. He hit the curb. Numbly, he noted that would have cost him points on the actual road test.
“Get out of the car,” Uriel said lowly, radiating a murderous aura. She seemed every bit the severe and ruthless judge she’d been in the novel. Kim Dokja never thought he’d ever see her like this.
She’d never been this mad around him.
Kim Dokja stared down at his hands. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
The aura instantly evaporated. “Do you think I’m mad at you?” Uriel cried, aghast. “No! I just want to make sure you’re okay!”
Kim Dokja glanced up. Uriel looked… worried. There was a tiny furrow between her brows.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Uriel said gently. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. It wasn’t your fault, understand?”
“... Yeah.”
Uriel patted his shoulder soothingly. “That’s why I told you to get out of the car. I’ll take over driving for today, since that inconsiderate asshole probably scared you out of your mind! You don’t have to worry that way, right?”
“... Okay.”
The murderous aura came back the moment Uriel took the driver’s seat. “Where is that man,” she hissed, hands tightening like a vice on the driver’s wheel. “I’ll get justice for you!”
“Wait, I don’t need justice-” Kim Dokja got out, right before Uriel slammed her foot on the gas.
“I don’t suppose you have a lesson for me,” Kim Dokja said woodenly.
At this point, he might as well go through the full set.
Lee Jihye squinted. “I’ll teach you if you want. But I also only have a learner’s license. Legally, you can’t drive with just me. Though… maybe parking would be okay?”
They ended up in an empty parking lot.
“Check the mirrors – front, left, right – and make sure you look behind you, because there might be a pedestrian you’ll run over, and you’ll lose points–”
The lesson with Lee Jihye wasn’t great, because Kim Dokja wasn’t great at parking, but there was progress. Once, Kim Dokja perfectly aligned himself in a parking space. Lee Jihye made a surprised noise that filled Kim Dokja with pride.
Then Lee Jihye directed Kim Dokja to park between a wall and a truck.
“No,” Kim Dokja said.
“Look. I know it looks too small, but it’s always going to look too small. You’ll have to go for it if you want to park anywhere. So…?”
Kim Dokja doubtfully advanced.
“Little more.”
Kim Dokja doubtfully advanced more.
“Keep going, you’re still not in.”
At some point, Kim Dokja said, “I can’t go any further.”
“What? Don’t be chicken.”
“No, I physically can’t go any further. I’m pressing the gas pedal right now.”
“Huh,” Lee Jihye said, and then stuck her head out the window. “Fuck. Back up.”
Kim Dokja did so, the car creaking unencouragingly as it came loose. Lee Jihye got out and ran her fingers over the side of the truck that Kim Dokja had possibly crunched into.
There was a pregnant pause. Kim Dokja contemplated whether technically being god would help him with the insurance company.
“Okay,” Lee Jihye said eventually, clapping her hands together. “No damage done. Let’s go home and never talk about this again.”
“You have a license, right?” Kim Dokja said.
Lee Hyunsung blinked at him, nonplussed. “...Yes? Why?”
“...No reason.”
There were at least four reasons to be worried about whether Lee Hyunsung had a license. Kim Dokja mentioned none of them.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Lee Hyunsung was patient and easily talked through what Kim Dokja should or shouldn’t do. No shocking information Kim Dokja didn’t already know, no going after other drivers, no damages, nobody almost died. Everything was fine. Lee Hyunsung even took Kim Dokja out for ice cream afterwards.
“So that’s what a normal driving lesson is like,” Kim Dokja said.
“You’re actually very good at this,” Lee Hyunsung said encouragingly. “Of course I think you should practice more, but it’s like this isn’t your first time at all!”
“Haha,” Kim Dokja said. “Yeah.”
