Jong In got into the swing of things pretty quickly with D.O.’s help. The first day he came back to the dorm with a folder full of documents, maps, and his timetable, D.O. had helped him sort everything out before teaching him how to read the abbreviated class codes and marking out the locations on the map. Did he add it was all done over a very delicious dinner? Oh yes, D.O. had kept true to his words by preparing breakfast and dinner. Jong In was used to having toast and protein shake in the mornings, but surprisingly D.O.’s breakfast which consisted of soup and rice hadn’t given him a tummy ache. The soup base was always done light and somehow the chef managed to portion just the right amount of rice without burdening Jong In’s digestive system first thing in the morning. As a result, Jong In was much more alert and energetic throughout the day as he attended his lessons. His dance practices often ended in the late evening and Jong In would come home daily to different styles of food spanning from traditional to western. He especially looked forward to weekends, because D.O. would prepare desserts too, a reward for the long week he’d endured, he said.

His parents were hardly surprised when Jong In told them he hadn’t made any new friends in school (he purposely left out his roommate D.O., of course). However, he assured them that he was adapting fine and he couldn’t be happier here. Although he hadn’t officially made friends, there were classmates whom he recognized as acquaintances and that was more than an improvement. He heard the front door being unlocked as his mom started going on about Jong In having to care more about his health now that he’s all alone and he hastily bade goodbye before cutting the call off. D.O. looked worned out as he tumbled through the doors but immediately straightened his posture and greeted him with a smile when he realized Jong In was home early today.

“No practice?”
“Instructor called in sick.” Jong In looked at him worriedly. “Are you sick too? You look pretty awful.”
D.O. shook his head. “Just a long day.”
Jong In wonders what time does his roommate wake every morning, because breakfast is always ready before Jong In gets out of bed. “Maybe you should take a break from cooking tonight. We could order take out.”
“No!” D.O. looked nearly scandalized. “How dare you order take out when you’ve a chef in the house?”
Jong In chuckled. “Sorry, I was just worried that you’re overworking yourself.”
D.O. offered a smile as he collapsed onto the empty spot beside Jong In on the couch. “Maybe you can cook, y’know?”
“Me?” Jong In shook his head immediately. “I gave my entire family food poisoning once with my cooking.” D.O. burst into a laughing fit as he curled his body up on the couch and Jong In pouted at him. “Hey! I just saved you from a potential visit to the hospital!”
“Really appreciate your honesty.” D.O. wiped the tears from his eyes as chuckles still escaped his lips. “How about you cook with my guidance then?”
Jong In shrugged. “I guess we can’t possibly kill ourselves if you’re keeping an eye on it.”

For the first time in a long time, the dancer found himself in the kitchen as he rummaged through the fridge for something that he felt inspired by. According to D.O., he always cooked according to his mood, something about it tasting better when he’s feeling the food -- not that Jong In really understood what he meant but he figured it was akin to him feeling the rhythm of a song in his blood when he danced. D.O. said they could have fried side dishes of pollack pieces and cucumbers when Jong In emerged from the fridge.
“Just side dishes? What about the main dish?” Jong In looked at the two items in his hand.
“Maybe a soup?” D.O. tapped his chin as his gaze scanned the kitchen counter and landed on the soybean paste. “How about soybean paste stew? We have some beef in the freezer.”

Jong In was tasked to stir the beef pieces in an earthenware pot as D.O. prepared the other ingredients. His gaze followed the chef’s with his own hand moving on autopilot as he observed how D.O. would carefully rinse everything off before placing it on the chopping board and slicing cleanly through everything in a clean . His eyes squinted in concentration as he made sure everything was sliced proportionately. The first time Jong In noticed something amiss, he blinked profusely before focusing his eyes on D.O. again who was still deeply engrossed in chopping up some green chili pepper and he dismissed it as his eyes playing tricks on him. But it happened again as D.O.’s hand grew faded to even his own surprise as the knife fell through his grip and landed on where his foot was supposed to be. When Jong In looked up from the floor where the knife had landed, D.O. was nowhere to be found.

The spoon Jong In had been using fell to the floor with a clatter as he spun around the kitchen repeatedly trying to figure out where his roommate had disappeared to. “D.O.? Where the hell are you hiding, it’s not funny!” he shouted as he ran out of the kitchen and into the bedroom before searching the living room. “D.O.!” His hands were shaking with fear as his mind replayed the scene of the knife slipping out of D.O.’s faded hand before passing through his translucent foot. The dancer was about to dial for the police when the chef materialized out of nowhere again and stumbled over his own foot as he collapsed right before Jong In. Jumping backwards in shock, Jong In couldn’t believe his eyes as his watched his roommate groan and rub his back as he picked himself off the floor. His breathing hitched when their gaze interlocked but D.O. was faster in pinning him down on the couch.

“W-what the hell are you?” Jong In felt his heart pounding extremely hard as he gulped down a lungful of air.
Sadness flitted across D.O.’s eyes when he heard the dancer’s words. “My name is Do Kyungsoo.” He mumbled before scrambling off Jong In and tucking himself in a far corner of the couch. “And I’m here for revenge.”
“Revenge?” fear crept up Jong In. “I haven’t done anything-- I didn’t! I--”
“Not you,” Kyungsoo cut through his stammers. “I’m talking about those bastards who me and left me to die in that warehouse.”
Jong In was beginning to feel lightheaded at it all. D.O. - Kyungsoo - could vanish into thin air, and he said he was left to die. ‘Oh my god, is he a ghost?’

“I once told you some stuff happened back home, didn’t I?”
“Y-yes.”
“My mother passed away when I was young and my dad became a gambler and alcohol addict after that. The main reason why I wanted to get away from him so badly was because he was squandering all of his money and I was afraid he would sell me off someday. I guess I couldn’t outrun fate after all.” Kyungsoo twisted his fingers painfully as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I was in my final year of school when his debt finally caught up with him. I was forced to work for the mafias in exchange for repaying my father’s debts. All the stupid errands they sent me on to collect ransom money and debts were cutting into my classes and my grades fell when I missed a major report submission. Not only was I nowhere near clearing my dad’s debt, I’m in debt myself when I