So yesterday I harvested my first beetroot from my garden, and let me tell you the moment I started peeling it and that deep, rich maroon color appeared, I was stunned. It was like a flashback of something I couldn’t possibly describe. Something I had planted in the dirt in my garden had produced such an incredibly gorgeous color! That stirred something primal in me.
Fungus has done so much for humanity. Penicillin. Radiation cleanup. Delicious mushrooms. Deadly mushrooms. Psychadelic mushrooms. And now my boy RA has chosen the humble mold spores as his vessel through which to cure cancer.
i love when tragedies are like “the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there”
looking at the little fragile scraps of your life, trying to arrange them into the fabric of dragonfly wings. you'd rather be icarus, right? that's why you cry at the hymn. you want so badly out of this tower - good lord. you'd burn just for the chance for it.
*.✧ synopsis: after losing his wife, hwang in-ho buried his emotions. but when he meets you, a player in his deadly games, his carefully guarded walls begin to crumble, forcing him to confront feelings he thought he’d left behind.
*.✧ word count: 20.3k (i'm deadass)
*.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, mentions of exploitation and abduction, implied suicide, additional character (player 143 - hanni) , usage korean words and suffixes, angst, fluff. reader has no canon age but has a kid. backstory is inspired by acrobatic silky from dandadan. your number will be 132.
*.✧ note: requests are open! (please). I wrote this to the entirety of squidgame season 2, so it's gonna be long. (from the second game till the end). i wanted to add an oc decided to add my baby hanni instead so i hope it doesn't come off as cringe. part 2 will be posted once season 3 comes out :D
i love in-ho so much he's so yummy.
masterlist | request here
As everyone shuffled into the area for the second game, Hwang In-ho smirked beneath his mask, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. Among the players, Gi-hun stood out, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar room. Instead of the playground with shapes on the walls that promised, the players were met with two gigantic circles on the floor. Discontent quickly erupted as the crowd realized they’d been tricked. Voices rose in anger, some calling him a fraud, others voicing their disappointment. Most dispersed in frustration, but In-ho, ever the calculated observer, comforted his "friend" with feigned concern. Inside, however, he was ecstatic.
In-ho, operating undercover as "Young-il," watched Gi-hun carefully. He observed the way his mind worked, his expressions shifting as he processed the situation. Every movement and every decision captivated him. This “hero” was an enigma In-ho couldn’t stop studying.
The guards began dictating the rules of the second game. Instead of the anticipated Dalgona candy challenge, players were introduced to the Six-Legged Pentathlon. Teams of five would have their legs tied together and had to complete a pentathlon on a circular path within five minutes. Failure meant elimination.
The scramble to form teams began. In-ho found himself grouped with Gi-hun and two others, players 388 and 390. They needed one more member, and player 388 eagerly volunteered to recruit. Soon, he returned with player 096. Before they could finalize, a loud yet nervous voice interrupted them.
"Excuse me, can she join your group?"
All eyes turned to you and another woman, player 222. Your determined gaze contrasted with 222’s startled expression.
In-ho’s eyes scanned you, noting the [hair characteristic] [hair color] hair framing your tired but kind [eye color] eyes. Your presence radiated something unusual for this cutthroat environment. As 222 tugged at your arm, whispering protests, you stood firm, making it clear your decision was final.
"I'm sorry, but we're already—" In-ho began, only to be cut off.
"Please," you pleaded, your voice steady. "She's pregnant."
The words hung in the air, silencing any objections. Reluctantly, they agreed, replacing 096 with 222. You bowed deeply in gratitude, offering an apologetic smile to 096 before turning to leave.
"I'm really sorry about that," you said earnestly. "But if you'd like, can you team up with me? I'm very skilled at gonggi. I promise! Cross my heart!"
Player 096 hesitated before nodding, following you to form a new team. As you and 096 walked away, two pairs of eyes lingered on you—In-ho’s, as he silently praised your selflessness, and 222’s, her expression a mix of guilt, gratitude, and betrayal.
In-ho couldn’t shake his fascination. Your kindness, despite in a setting like this, reminded him of someone dear, slowly stirring feelings he thought long buried.
Luck favored In-ho’s team; they were the last to compete. This allowed ample time to strategize as they observed the others. Your team’s turn came, and In-ho found himself unexpectedly invested. You and your teammates executed the challenges flawlessly, clearing the first four games in under three minutes. As your team moved on to the final station, In-ho couldn’t suppress a small sigh of relief. But that relief quickly turned to tension when the last player started messing up.
In-ho’s gaze never wavered from you. He knew your team was skilled, but with only 30 seconds left, the stakes were higher now. His heart raced, the pressure mounting as the seconds ticked down. Would they pull it off? The jegi soared into the air, and In-ho held his breath, watching with bated anticipation. The first kick, then the second, the third… each landing perfectly, and still, there was no room for error. It was the final kick that would determine everything. His pulse quickened as your teammate sent the jegi flying, and with one flawless strike after another, they nailed the fifth and final kick.
The crowd erupted into cheers, but all In-ho could hear was the pounding of his own heart. The relief that washed over him felt far too intense. He paused. Why was he cheering so loudly? Why was he worried? His eyes lingered on you as your team crossed the finish line, your victory adding warmth to his chest that he couldn’t explain.
His mind raced, trying to shake off the strange emotions. But then—[eye color] clashed with his black ones, and the world around him seemed to stop for a brief, breathless moment. There was no game, no betrayals, no stakes. It was just the two of you, alone in your own world. You gave him a small wave, and his chest tightened. He waved back, but the gesture felt like a lifetime of unspoken words.
As you were escorted away, the warmth lingered, and In-ho stood there, rooted to the spot, wondering why his chest felt so heavy and yet so alive.
Back in the main area, you found yourself bonding with a cheerful teen, Player 143. Since the first game, you, 143, and 222 had found a quiet camaraderie. You found 143 comforting 222 at the corner at the finish line and decided that you’ll protect those two with all your might. 143 had a bubbly energy that reminded you of home. Her lighthearted teasing about your "crush" on 001 made you laugh, despite the grim circumstances.
"Sure, sure, whatever you say, you little rascal," you replied, ruffling her hair. Her youthful spirit was a balm in this harsh environment, offering a welcome distraction from the tension of the games.
The conversation shifted as she shared bits of her past. Hanni, as she revealed, told you that her debt stemmed from an exploitative contract with her peers, which promised fame and opportunities but left her and her friends in the dark about everything. Despite the weight of her story, she kept her optimism, her dreams still burning brightly. You couldn't help but wonder how someone so young had ended up in such a terrible game, but something was inspiring about her ability to hold onto hope in such a hopeless place.
When she asked about you, you hesitated for a moment but then decided to share. "My name’s [Name]," you began. "I’m a fashion designer and a part-time preschool teacher. I also… have a talent for guns."
Hanni’s eyes widened in surprise. "Guns? How does that fit into designing clothes and teaching kids?"
You chuckled softly. "It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve always been drawn to shooting ranges. It started as a hobby, and somehow, it turned into something I’m pretty good at."
You paused, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. The topic of your debt hung in the air. You faltered, not sure whether to open up, but the teen’s unassuming curiosity made you want to share more.
However, before you could speak, the last group of players returned, signifying the end of the game. Hanni immediately perked up, her attention shifting to Player 001 and their group as they found a place to sit together, which was conveniently located just a few steps from your bed. She gave you a sly grin before playfully pointing toward him with her eyebrows.
"Hey, hey, unnie! Look, it’s your man!" she whispered-yelled, clearly enjoying playing matchmaker.
You chuckled before waving her off with a signal to be quiet. The last thing you needed was for word to get out about your little crush, especially in the middle of a deadly game.
As you shushed Hanni, she had other plans. With rapid hand gestures, she invited Player 222 over to your small corner. The unsuspecting woman gave the two of you a confused look before excusing herself from her group of men and heading your way.
When she reached you, you both greeted her gently, concern evident in your voices.
“Welcome back unnie! Congrats on finishing the game, I knew you could do it!”
"How are you feeling? Is the baby alright? Are you in any pain?"
Player 222, shook her head and waived off your concerns, giving a small smile. "I’m alright. Thank you for asking."
Hanni, the chatterbox, didn’t waste a moment. "By the way, unnie, can we know your name? I really don’t know what to call you other than 222. You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable, though!"
Player 222 chuckled softly at the teen's eagerness. "Well, I suppose I could introduce myself." She smiled and then shared her name—Kim Jun-hee. She explained how she had been scammed, abandoned by her boyfriend, and now found herself here, in this deadly game, pregnant and alone.
You offered her your sympathy, relating to her pain. You’d been in similar situations, dealing with your own painful experiences with men over the years. "Unfortunately, we all have our stories," you said, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "We just have to keep going, don’t we?"
The three of you sat there for a while, chatting about your pasts, your dreams, and your shared longing for a life outside of this twisted game.
"When I get out and get justice, I’ll become a popular idol with my friends!" Hanni declared excitedly, her eyes shining with ambition.
You and Jun-hee exchanged surprised glances, both of you impressed by her optimism despite everything. "You’ll definitely make it, Hanni. You have the spirit for it," Jun-hee encouraged her with a smile.
"Of course we will! And when you’re on TV, you better send us some VIP tickets for your show!" you added, making Hanni beam.
"You better pose cutely for those photocards, okay?" Jun-hee teased.
Hanni shot her a playful look. "Of course! Will this pose be enough?" She asked as she gave a dramatic pose, and you all laughed.
"Hey!" Hanni looked at the two of you with an exaggerated pout. "You’re not doubting me, right?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "No, no, I’m sure you’ll make it. Just don’t forget us when you're famous, alright?"
As Hanni and Jun-hee bickered over the finer details of idol life, you couldn’t help but smile with a bittersweet feeling in your chest. These two didn’t deserve the cards they’d been dealt, and they certainly didn’t belong in this twisted game. But at least for a brief moment, you all found comfort in each other’s company.
You silently prayed for them—no, for all of you. For everyone here who didn’t deserve to be part of this nightmare. You hoped you could all make it out alive and live better lives. But deep down, you knew the path ahead would be treacherous, and the price of survival would be steep.
The conversation ended when the pink guards entered the room. Everyone watched in anticipation as the guards displayed the updated prize pool: 20.1 billion won, or 78,823,530 won per person, with 255 players still alive. The room was suddenly filled with murmurs. Most were in disbelief that the money per person was still under 100 million, some even demanded a recount. The guards paid no attention to the chatter and continued speaking.
"We always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. Therefore, you will take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not. Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here, please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner."
Once the guard finished speaking, Jun-hee ushered the two of you to join their group. Hanni nodded with a smirk before standing up. You rolled your eyes, hoping she won't cause a scene once she made her way down. "The two of you go first. I'll follow you shortly," you said, making hand gestures for them to go ahead. Thankfully, the two of them followed without question, although you were sure Hanni whispered something to Jun-hee as they walked down the stairs.
With the girls out of sight, your gaze drifted back to the piggy bank hanging from the ceiling. ‘78 Million won...’ The number flashed in your mind, but instead of the excitement you’d hoped for, a deep sense of emptiness settled within you. Your hand unconsciously rubbed your stomach as memories of what was lost surged into your thoughts.
A pained expression flickered across your face as you stared at the money. It wasn’t enough. It could never be enough to make up for everything you had sacrificed, everything you had lost.
“Just one more game...” You whispered to no one in particular.
The moment you made your way down to the others, the group welcomed you warmly. You offered a polite smile and greeted them back. As was customary, you bowed to the familiar men you had met earlier.
"Thank you again for accepting Jun-hee into your group earlier. I’m glad you all got out safely," you said, your voice sincere.
"Ah! No, no, don’t worry about that, it’s all fine!" Player 390 immediately replied, his voice light and reassuring. He waved his hand dismissively. "If anything, we should thank you! That girl quickly finished her game, gave us much more room to breathe."
You smiled at his words, feeling a small spark of warmth. "Really? Well, I’m glad. Before we found you, she kept boasting about her skills in ddjaki and how she won multiple times with the salesman. Glad to know she wasn’t lying."
Jun-hee rolled her eyes at your comment before giving you a playful shove. You laughed, brushing it off before turning your attention back to the group.
"My name’s [Name] by the way. [Last name], [Name]. I’d rather you call me that rather than this stupid number," you said with a teasing grin.
The rest of the group followed suit, introducing themselves in turn. Player 456 was Gi-hun, Player 390 was Jung-bae, Player 388 was Dae-ho, and last but not least, Player 001 was Young-Il—whose name, when revealed, earned an unexpected pinch from Hanni. You tried not to show any discomfort at the gesture, but you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Who were you to ruin a teenager’s fun, though?
As everyone continued to chat, the conversation quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was just nice to talk with someone, anyone, who wasn’t a threat to your survival.
“Woah, ex-marines, huh? I don’t tell this to anyone, but I have a collection of guns at home…” you mentioned, trying to make light of the situation.
“That so?” Jung-bae remarked, his tone casual, as if discussing firearms was just another part of his day.
“Woah, that’s so cool! When did you start collecting?” Dae-ho chimed in with enthusiasm, genuinely interested.
“Let’s see... maybe when I was 19? That’s when I got introduced to shooting ranges, and that’s where my addiction started,” you replied with a nostalgic smile. The conversation felt like a brief escape from the madness of the games.
But then, just as quickly as it began, the conversation slowed. You couldn’t help but notice that, in the midst of it all, everyone was still acutely aware of the situation—life or death hung over every word. You looked up once more at the piggy bank. The money glinted in the low light, but it didn’t comfort you. It only served as a reminder of how far you had come and how much you had lost.
You stared at it for a while, lost in thought. The weight of everything—the game, the choices, the people who would never make it out—pressed down on you, and it was hard to escape the ache in your chest. Your mind wandered, consumed by memories and questions, as you stood frozen in place. Too engrossed in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice familiar black eyes fixed on you. In-ho watched your every move intently, shamelessly staring as you absentmindedly stared into oblivion. His gaze was steady, silently studying you from where he stood. But you were too lost in your thoughts to feel it. There was something about you, something he couldn’t quite place, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It wasn’t the same as before—his cold indifference slowly shifting into something else he didn’t know how to name.
Maybe it was the way you carried yourself despite everything. Or maybe it was the faint sadness he saw in your eyes, something that mirrored his own. But as he continued to watch, something unfamiliar stirred inside him—an unsettling warmth that didn’t make sense, something that he thought he stopped feeling a long time ago. He quickly turned his attention away, pretending to focus on the group.
But that warmth lingered, an ache in his chest that refused to fade. What was it about you?
Hanni gave you a playful shove, snapping you out of your trance. Her bright smile flickered for a moment, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You could feel her gaze linger on you, a slight shift in her expression that suggested she noticed something was off. You returned a hesitant smile, one that you hoped would mask the swirl of thoughts in your mind.
As the group huddled up, you quickly placed your hand on top of the pile, trying to shake off the discomfort despite the underlying tension. Hanni’s smile faded as she watched you, her eyes narrowing just slightly. Something in her seemed to pause, a flicker of doubt creeping into her gaze as if she was starting to see through the facade you were putting up.
It was as if she could tell that there was more to looks, something that wasn’t quite aligned with what you let on. But, instead of pressing, Hanni gave a soft shrug, her playful demeanor returning. Yet, the doubt lingered in her eyes, like she wasn’t fully convinced of the person she found comfort in.
"In one, two, three... Victory at all costs!" Hanni and Dae-ho shouted, their voice full of energy despite the dark atmosphere.
"Victory at all costs!"
"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."
Young-il's gaze swept over the six of you, his eyes calm, but with an unwavering trust and determination in them. He nodded subtly at Gi-hun, as he began to move forward without hesitation. As he stepped up to cast his vote, you exchanged a brief, fleeting moment of eye contact with Young-il. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, but there was something else there too. You couldn't quite place it, but it made your chest tighten. The moment passed quickly, and you looked away, focusing on the task at hand.
When it was finally your time to vote, you felt the weight of everyone's eyes on you, but you didn’t allow yourself to meet anyone’s gaze. You couldn’t stomach the judgment, the disappointment that would be there. Instead, you stepped forward, heart pounding, and pressed the "O" button, committing to the choice you knew you had to make. A cold knot formed in your stomach as you did, but your mind remained focused. You weren’t about to back down now, no matter what the others thought.
As you turned and walked back to your side, you kept your head low, trying to hide the turmoil brewing inside. You heard some murmurs around you, a mix of disbelief and anger from your teammates, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. The guilt gnawed at you but so did the hope that this one last game would be enough. You glanced at the piggy bank hanging overhead, feeling the weight of the prize pool, but also the weight of your decision.
The voting ended with 140 votes for “O” and 117 for “X,” meaning the third game would proceed tomorrow. Some players cheered, relieved that they could move forward, while others were disappointed, worried for their survival. You stood frozen as the room around you buzzed with varying reactions. You could feel the stares of your team members who clearly weren’t happy with your decision. You couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the betrayal there.
Jung-bae’s hand suddenly clapped on your shoulder, pulling you out of your reverie. You looked at him, searching his face for some sign of judgment. Your eyes went down and stared at the "O" patch on his tracksuit. His gaze was full of understanding, a silent comfort that you couldn’t quite put into words. He gave you a quick nod before turning his back, signaling the two of you to move forward, away from the team.
You ignored the whispers, and the betrayed looks from Dae-ho and Hanni. You couldn’t let it matter now. Call it selfish, call it greed, but 78 million won was not enough. Just one more game, and then maybe, just maybe you could end this.
Once the guard handed you your food, you took it mechanically, your hands numb as you walked back to your bed. You couldn’t face anyone—not Hanni, not Jun-hee, and especially not the ones who still believed in you. The weight of their disappointment was more than you could bear. Before you could even sit down, a loud voice called out for you.
"Hey! [Name]ya!" The sudden intrusion startled you. You turned, your heart racing in your chest, and saw Jun-hee and Hanni behind you. The former’s concern was written clearly across her face.
“Why?” she asked softly, her voice trembling.
You avoided her gaze, not trusting yourself to speak. “I... I have my reasons,” you said, your voice cracking just a little, even though you tried to sound convincing.
Hanni, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, muttered under her breath, "I hope it’s worth it." Her words were heavy with something you couldn’t quite define—was it disappointment? Concern? Either way, it cut deeper than you expected. You wanted to say something, anything, to make her understand, but you couldn’t. Not now. Not when everything felt so fragile.
Before you could open your mouth, two sets of hands grabbed each of your arms, forcing you to stand up. With a startled yelp, you asked, "What are you doing?" in a nervous tone. The two remained silent, their grip firm as they dragged you toward where the group was sitting. You quickly noticed that Jung-bae was also being pulled along by Dae-ho, confusion and tension radiating from him. It wasn’t until you reached the group that the weight of everyone’s gaze settled on you. You couldn’t escape the questioning looks from your teammates.
You and Jung-bae exchanged guilty glances before finally looking your teammates in the eye. “I… I’m very sorry, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, Young-il,” you started. Jung-bae hesitated for a moment before following your lead, offering a quick bow. “I’m sorry too, Hanni, Jun-hee, Young-il… Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”
When nobody acknowledged your apologies, Jung-bae went on to explain his reasoning, his voice faltering slightly. “You see, I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So—”
“Jung-bae.” Young-il cut him off sharply. His tone was cold, his expression unreadable, as if disappointment weighed heavy on his words. “You of all people shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t righteous, not twice, not even once.”
The words stung more than Jung-bae expected, and the silence between them grew thick. Without waiting for Jung-bae to respond, Young-il turned to you, his gaze steady and searching. “And you,” he began, his voice quieter but no less firm, “You’ve made your own choice,” He continued, his voice measured, “but don’t try to justify it as something you had no control over.”
You looked at him one more time before looking down, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest, tightening your throat. Your mind raced, but there was no way to explain it—not to them, not to yourself.
“I know…” you whispered, the guilt rising like a tide, swallowing your words. “And I’m truly sorry…”
The sincerity in your apology felt hollow. You had made the decision. No one had forced you, but the pull of the money, of the chance to end it all, had made it feel like a necessity. And yet, as you stood there, with their disappointed gazes burning into you, it felt more like a betrayal than a choice.
“But looking at the results, even if you two voted against it, we would still have been outvoted,” Young-il said, his voice calm, like he had already made peace with it.
“Right? So it’s not really our fault,” Jung-bae added quickly, trying to make light of the situation.
Dae-ho, who had been quietly observing, scratched his head and gave Jung-bae a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Honestly, I get why you did it. Even for me, ¥78 million isn’t enough. So when I went to vote, I really thought about going for ‘O’ too.”
Hanni and Jun-hee didn’t say much. They nodded, agreeing in silence but not wanting to add anything more. Everyone was feeling the pressure. The reality of it all was sinking in too fast.
Jung-bae, still holding on to hope, added, “Next game, I promise. I’ll—”
“Next game?” Gi-hun’s voice cut through the air, sharp and honest. “Next game, we might have to kill each other.”
The room went still at his words. Everyone seemed to freeze. Gi-hun was right, and his words hit harder than anyone expected. No one spoke right away; the thought of what might happen in the next game was too much to face. The quiet grew heavy as the reality of what they were really up against settled in.
You opened your mouth to say something but stopped when Young-il spoke up. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. We all know there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just stay focused. We need to eat, get ourselves together, and prepare for the next round.”
With that, he handed his milk carton to Jun-hee, saying he didn’t drink plain milk. Jung-bae did the same, offering his bread to Hanni, saying he didn’t deserve to eat. Everyone’s gestures, though small, felt like they were all trying to comfort each other in their own way, but it only made the situation more real.
Dae-ho, trying to lighten the mood, asked for Jung-bae's milk carton, but when the male shot him a glare, he stayed quiet, not wanting to argue.
A soft laugh slipped out of you, and without thinking, you handed your milk to Dae-ho. He immediately accepted it with a soft, grateful smile and mumbled a quiet thanks.
You found yourself sitting next to Young-il, feeling more tired than you’d ever felt before, the mental and physical exhaustion had settled into your bones, dragging you down. The male was silent beside you, his presence heavy yet comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his gaze on you. It wasn’t intrusive, just there—steady, unyielding, like a silent support.
After a long silence, he spoke, his voice low and steady. “You did what you had to do.”
You blinked at him, not sure whether to be relieved or uncomfortable. “Did I?” you asked softly. “I voted to keep going. I went against you all. I wanted to believe it would be worth it, but I’m not sure anymore.”
“You can’t change it now,” he said, his tone gentle, almost comforting. “We all made our choices. It’s over. What matters now is what we do next.”
For a moment, you felt a knot in your chest loosen. He turned to you, his gaze unwavering, “You made a choice,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And no one else can tell you whether it was right or wrong.”
The simplicity of his words hung in the air. You couldn’t fix what had been done, but hearing those words from him somehow made it feel a little less like you were alone in your decision. The guilt that had gnawed at you seemed to quiet, even if just for a brief moment.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. There was a quiet sincerity in it, more than you realized. It was the kind of reassurance you hadn’t known you were craving.
He nodded once, acknowledging your thanks with a slight tilt of his head. “Don’t mind what Gi-hun and I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice steady but softer now. “In a place like this, it’s hard not to be on edge. Everyone’s just trying to survive.”
You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “Yeah… I get it. It’s just hard to not feel like the bad guy sometimes.”
“You’re not,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before shifting away. “We all made our choices. Doesn’t make anyone better or worse. Just… human.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, and before you knew it, the two of you had slipped into an easy conversation. It wasn’t much, shared observations about the others, light teasing about Dae-ho being comparable to a golden retriever, favorite movies and hobbies, but it felt like a break from the weight pressing down on you both.
At one point, you let out a genuine laugh, surprising even yourself. Young-il turned his head, his gaze curious as he asked, “What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, a small smile still lingering on your lips. “I don’t know,” you admitted, brushing a hand over your face as if to hide the slight flush there. “Maybe it’s just everything… or nothing. Maybe I just needed to.”
He tilted his head, his expression softening slightly, though he still didn’t smile. “Laughing over nothing, huh? Guess there’s worse ways to handle this mess.”
“You should try it,” you said lightly, teasing just enough to test the waters.
He huffed, not quite a laugh but close, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe one day.”
For a little while, it was just the two of you, sharing quiet moments and fleeting bits of lightness in the shadow of everything else. The sound of quiet conversations and muted movements surrounded you, but it all felt distant, like you and Young-il existed in a world apart from everyone else. Eventually, the men began excusing themselves to head toward the bathroom. Young-il stayed seated a moment longer, his reluctance obvious in the way he lingered.
“You’re stalling,” you teased softly, a smile tugging at your lips.
He huffed, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I am.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Go. They’re waiting for you, and if you stay any longer Dae-ho might wet the floor.”
He chuckled. For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze meeting yours. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head as he stood slowly, there was a flicker of something—playful or thoughtful, you couldn’t quite tell. As he walked away, you watched him join the others, the soft smile still lingering on your face.
Once the coast was clear, Hanni slid over almost immediately, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Jun-hee joined her just as quickly, both of them zeroing in on you like a pair of mischievous siblings ready to pounce. “You’re smiling,” Hanni said, a teasing tone lacing her words.
Jun-hee, tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amused and curious. “We’ve been with you since the first game and that’s not like you. Care to explain?”
You blinked, immediately feeling awkward. “Really? Now? In a place like this?”
Hanni leaned closer, her expression turning more playful. “C’mon, we’re not gonna bite. Just curious.”
With a chuckle, you let out a dramatic sigh before rubbing your temples. “This isn’t the time for that. We’re stuck in a death game, not a dating show.”
“So, what you’re saying is if we are in a dating show you would totally go for him?”
You raised an eyebrow at Hanni, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I never said that," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief.
Jun-hee joined in, her voice teasing but not unkind. “Come on, don’t play coy with us. You have to admit, something’s up.”
You let out a sigh, but this time it was more amused than anything. “You two are unbelievable.” You leaned back, trying to shift the mood. “Look, it’s not like that. We’re just… having a conversation. It's not that deep.”
But they didn’t back off. Hanni gave you a knowing look, her eyes twinkling. “Having a conversation my ass! You’re out here giggling like a highschooler!”
“I do not!”
“Do too!”
You crossed your arms, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not giggling, I’m just—” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I’m just… enjoying the conversation, alright?”
Jun-hee leaned in, her eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “Uh-huh. Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help yourself from laughing again. “Just so you know, we’re stuck in a life-and-death situation, and I’m way past the age of having crushes and all that nonsense.”
Hanni leaned back with a satisfied grin, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Sure, whatever you say! We’ll let you off the hook for now, but don’t think we’ve forgotten.”
“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. Despite the playful banter, the weight in your chest lightened. The tension between you all had shifted, and for the first time in a while, things didn’t feel so heavy. The teasing was light, comforting, and in the middle of everything that was going on, it was exactly what you needed.
You gave her a half-smile. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”
Jun-hee joined in with a gentle laugh. “Probably not. But it’s good to see you smile for once, even if we’re making fun of you.”
“You two are such troublemakers, you know that?”
Hanni shrugged innocently. “What can we say unnie? We just like seeing you flustered!”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Lights out in ten minutes. Please prepare for bedtime.”
Currently, you and the group were passing out mattresses, following Gi-hun’s insistence that all of you sleep on the floor together, huddled under one of the bed frames with someone keeping watch. While the rest of you questioned whether such precautions were necessary, none dared to speak up, not wanting to provoke Gi-hun’s temper.
As you handed a mattress to Dae-ho, who passed it to Jung-bae, the latter decided to voice what everyone else was thinking. “Hey, is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.”
Gi-hun didn’t look up as he smoothed a blanket onto the floor. “Once the lights go out, someone might attack us.”
That caught everyone’s attention. Kneeling down to sort through pillows and blankets, You, Dae-ho, Jun-hee and Hanni paused, curiosity piqued. “Why would anyone do that?” Dae-ho asked cautiously.
Gi-hun let out a humorless chuckle. “The prize money goes up every time someone dies. It’s part of the game they designed.”
You frowned, giving his words some thought. At first, his claim seemed far-fetched, but the more you considered the desperation you’d seen in yourself and in others—the way some eyes lingered too long on the prize board—it started to make an unsettling kind of sense.
“That’s insane,” Jung-bae muttered, shaking his head. “Nobody’s that cold. Nobody’s gonna—”
“Nope, Gi-hun is right. You shouldn’t be so sure,” you cut in, your tone sharper than usual. All eyes turned to you. “We’re lucky to have each other, but outside of this group? Desperation changes people. If someone thinks they have a better chance alone, or if they’re blinded by that kind of money, they won’t hesitate.”
Young-il narrowed his eyes at you, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “You’re saying we should expect someone to try and kill us tonight?”
You shrugged, your expression grim. “I’m saying we’d be stupid not to prepare for it.”
The weight of your words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. Even Hanni and Jun-hee, who usually tried to keep things light, exchanged uneasy glances. Gi-hun nodded as if your words confirmed everything he’d been thinking.
“Well,” Dae-ho said after a moment, his voice forced and upbeat, “at least we have each other, right?”
“Exactly,” Gi-hun said, setting down the last mattress. “We stick together, we’ll make it through. Now, everyone settle in. And keep your eyes open.”
Reluctantly, the group followed his lead, arranging themselves in a tight circle under the frame. You caught Young-il’s eye as he sat down across from you, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.
Morning arrived faster than you expected, and soon, the guards were leading you to the next game.
The circular room you entered was unsettling. Bright, white walls surrounded a massive platform in the center, and atop it stood three eerie carousel horses, their painted eyes glossy and cold. Around the perimeter of the room were several doors, painted with plain colors.
You stared in quiet dread, trying to piece together what this setup might mean. The atmosphere was heavy, the air almost suffocating.
A light shove jolted you back to reality.
“You okay?”
Young-il stood beside you, his hand brushing your arm. His face, though calm, held a trace of worry as he took in your frozen stance.
“Stay close to me,” he said firmly. “And don’t freeze up now. I know it’s hard, but mistakes…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Just don’t make any. Not here.”
You nodded, swallowing hard, and forced your legs to move as the guards directed everyone to the platform.
The rules were announced in the same monotone voice you’d grown to fear. This game wasn’t just a test of strength or skill—it was a race against time. Mingle. A game where players had to form groups according to the number that appeared and enter a room within 30 seconds. Failure to do so meant death.
The tension in the room became unbearable as the platform filled with nervous shuffling.
Hanni, standing beside you, clutched at your jacket with trembling hands. Her grip was tight and desperate, her pale face mirrored the fear you felt but tried to bury.
You placed a steadying hand over hers. “Stay close to us okay?” you murmured, glancing at her wide, frightened eyes. “We’ll figure this out.”
The platform began to spin, the movement disorienting as the room blurred around you. An eerie, childlike song played from unseen speakers, the melody jarring in its mockery of innocence.
Just as nausea began to creep in, the platform screeched to a halt.
12
Panic erupted immediately. Players screamed and shoved, desperate to find others to form a group.
“We need two more!”
“Who has five?”
Gi-hun moved quickly, scanning the chaos. He approached a nearby cluster of players, tapping one on the shoulder. “How many are you?”
“Four,” Player 120 replied.
“That makes us eleven,” Jung-bae said, pulling the rest of you closer into a huddle.
Before you could fully regroup, others swarmed around, shouting over one another in frantic bids for survival.
“Join us! We’re five!”
“No, come with us! We’re seven!”
The crowd was chaos. People were being pulled apart and dragged into groups as the countdown loomed. Hanni clung tighter to you, her breathing uneven. Suddenly, Player 120 ran off and dragged a woman toward your group. Her face was pale, and her steps stumbled as if she could barely keep up with the force pulling her forward.
“Here! This makes twelve!” Player 120 shouted, shoving the woman into your group before anyone could react.
“Come on,” you urged, grabbing Jun-hee and Hanni by the arms. “Let’s go. Stick close to me.”
Gi-hun directed your group to room 44. One by one, you made sure everyone got through the door, your eyes scanning for anyone falling behind. Once inside, Young-il slammed the door shut.
The locks clicked as the timer hit zero.
A chilling silence followed before the sound of gunfire tore through the room. Cries of desperation from players left behind filled the air, only to be abruptly silenced.
Hanni trembled violently, her hands covering her ears. You knelt beside her, brushing her hair back in an attempt to soothe her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” you said, though your own hands weren’t quite steady.
The tense quiet was broken by a sudden, sharp voice.
“You are all alive thanks to me!”
The outburst came from the woman 120 dragged, her wild eyes scanning the group. She began to approach Jun-hee with a strange intensity, her smile twisted and unsettling.
You immediately stepped in front of the girl, blocking her from view. Your movements were calm, but your heart pounded as the woman’s gaze landed on you instead.
She tilted her head, her smile widening. “There’s a reason you’ve lived this long,” she said, her tone cryptic. “A reason you were brought here.”
Her words hung heavy in the air as she looked past you, her focus shifting to Gi-hun.
Before she could say more, the announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, listing the eliminated players. The doors unlocked. Everyone returned to the platform.
Another round began.
4
All seven of you froze, exchanging frantic glances. The tension in the room was suffocating, everyone hyper-aware of the seconds slipping away.
"I'll find one more," you said abruptly, already moving before anyone could protest.
Gi-hun called after you, his voice strained with alarm, but you were already lost in the chaos.
"Wait—!" Hanni started to follow, but Gi-hun grabbed her arm.
"No!" she yelled, pulling against him. "You go! I’ll wait for [Name]-nim!"
"But—"
Young-il stepped in, placing a firm hand on Gi-hun’s shoulder. "Go, Gi-hun. She won’t move unless [Name] is back. I’ll stay with her."
Gi-hun hesitated, his jaw clenched. He looked between them and the dwindling time before nodding sharply. "Take care of them."
Without another word, he ushered Dae-ho, Jun-hee, and Jung-bae into a room. Once inside, Gi-hun hesitated to shut the room, opting to keep it open for a bit as he watched over your group.
Meanwhile, Young-il stayed by Hanni's side, his sharp gaze darting through the chaos, searching for any sign of you. The noise of panicked shouts and pounding footsteps filled the air, but he barely noticed. Instead, his attention was fixed on the spinning platform and the frenzied crowd.
Hanni clung to his arm, her small frame trembling against his. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, her grip tightening with each second that passed. Young-il glanced down at her, his usually stern expression softening for a moment.
"You’ll be okay," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm around them. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, giving her a firm yet gentle pat.
Hanni didn’t seem to hear him. Her lips moved in a near-silent mantra, repeating over and over, "Please come back. Please come back."
Her words hung heavy in the air, a fragile plea against the backdrop of chaos. Young-il’s jaw tightened as he turned his focus back to the crowd. He had to believe you would return, not just for Hanni's sake—but for all of theirs.
Inside the room, Dae-ho’s voice broke the silence. "Will they make it?" he asked, his tone trembling. Gi-hun didn’t respond, his gaze fixed outside, searching for any sign of you. With ten seconds left, hope began to waver—until a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Hey! I found someone! Let’s go!"
Bursting into sight, you ran towards an empty room with Player 256 in tow. Without hesitation, you grabbed Young-il’s outstretched hand, pulling everyone toward the door. The locks clicked shut just as the timer hit zero.
Inside, your legs gave out, but before you hit the ground, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. Young-il steadied you, his worried face inches from yours.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
You nodded quickly, pulling yourself upright. "Thanks," you said, flashing a weak smile before turning to Player 256, who looked pale and shaken.
"Are you alright? Sorry for dragging you like that. I just saw you on the floor and didn’t think twice."
The young man gave you a pained smile, his breaths still uneven. "I’m fine. Thank you—really. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead."
You patted his shoulder gently, suppressing a sigh. "What’s with young people getting into so much debt these days?"
Before you could say more, a small figure collided with you, wrapping their arms tightly around your waist.
"Don’t ever leave me again, unnie." Hanni sobbed, her voice muffled against your shirt. Warm tears soaked through the fabric as she clung to you.
Your heart twisted at her desperation. "I can’t promise you that, Hanni. But Jun-hee’s always there when I’m not okay?" you murmured, gently running your hand through her hair, trying to soothe her.
Her grip on you loosened a little, but her wide eyes stayed locked on you. “I know… but I still need you two with me,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of that same hope she always had.
You gave her a soft smile, brushing away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. “We’re not going anywhere,” you said, holding her just a little tighter.
The announcer’s voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, listing the names of the eliminated players. The stark reminder of the game’s stakes sent a chill through the room.
As the list ended, you glanced toward Young-il. His eyes betrayed the fear he had been holding back, relief washing over his face as he met your gaze. For a brief moment, it felt like the world had paused, the chaos outside fading into the background.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He gave a small nod, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The sound of the doors unlocking snapped you both back to reality. Player 256 bowed deeply to you before sprinting off, murmuring another hurried "thank you" as he disappeared into the crowd.
Taking Hanni’s hand, you and Young-il moved quickly to find the rest of your group. Voices called your names, and you followed the sound until you spotted them.
"There they are!" Jung-bae shouted, relief evident in his tone.
Young-il barely had time to react before Jung-bae threw his arms around him in a tight hug. Meanwhile, Jun-hee rushed toward you and Hanni.
The three of you broke into a tangle of hugs, clutching each other tightly, the fear and relief of survival intertwining in an unspoken bond.
“I knew you were gonna be okay!” Jung-bae exclaimed in relief, pulling Young-il into a tight hug. Jun-hee did the same with you, and you returned the hug, pressing a few affectionate forehead kisses on her before patting her head gently. Gi-hun looked at you and Young-il, his face breaking into a relieved smile. “I was so worried. I’m glad you all made it.”
“Luckily, [Name] found someone in time. If she stayed with us a little longer, she might’ve had a hard time,” Young-il chuckled, praising you.
You laughed, shaking your head. “If anything, I was lucky. I found the guy on the ground. I hope he’s okay.”
The two of you then turned to Jun-hee, asking if she was alright. She reassured you, telling you how glad she was that the three of you came back safely.
“Wait a minute.” Young-il’s voice cut through the conversation. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. “If the next number is eighth, then we won’t need anyone else, right?”
Everyone looked at him with confused expressions. “Why?” Dae-ho asked, genuinely curious. Young-il didn’t respond immediately; instead, he just nodded, thinking.
Jung-bae snapped his fingers, pointing at Jun-hee’s stomach. “Ah, it’s in her tummy.”
A sudden realization spread across Dae-ho’s face as he finally understood. “Ohh, that’s right. That makes eight.” The group shared a lighthearted laugh, while Hanni rolled her eyes, quietly laughing to herself. She muttered something about how corny the joke was. You couldn’t help but laugh, pinching her cheek and telling her to just go with the flow.
“What if it’s twins? Triplets?” you joked.
Amid the laughter, a pair of lingering eyes belonging to Player 333 was watching the group with an unreadable look on his face.
The atmosphere shifted slightly before you were all instructed to return to the platform. The tension in the air was palpable. Another round started.
3
“You three, go–” Gi-hun began, but Young-il cut him off.
“No. I’ll go. You stay with them.”
You all looked at him in surprise, not wanting to leave him behind. However, there was no time to waste. With a determined nod, you immediately grabbed Jun-hee and Hanni before running toward the nearest room. Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho followed closely behind, while Young-il ran off to find two other players.
You three finally approached the only vacant room near you. As you opened it, your blood ran cold. A figure was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, its stillness unnerving— as if they had already given up already. You glanced at the timer—20 seconds. Your heart raced. Grabbing Jun-hee and Hanni’s arms, you yelled for the curled up figure.
"Hey!" you shouted. The person stirred and looked up at you, confusion in their eyes. You raised the arms you were holding, signaling clearly. The person understood, standing up and moving toward the door. You pushed Jun-hee and Hanni toward the player, making sure they would be safe with her. Once inside, Player 380 quickly closed the door. As you ran away, you heard their voices calling out to you.
“Hey unnie! Come back!”
“[Name]nim!”
You cursed your heart for being soft and getting attached, you cursed your mind for wanting to be a hero. With 13 seconds left, you turned and ran as fast as you could, hoping to find a room, or maybe even Young-il.
10 seconds.
You frantically scanned the area, but there was almost nothing. No sign of Young-il. No sign of anyone else making their way to a room. No group of two finding their last member.
8 seconds.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your arm. You were shocked but didn’t hesitate. You had no time for hesitation now. You kept your pace, determined to survive.
6 seconds.
You spotted someone standing idly, diagonally to you. Wasting no time, you shouted to them. Together, you ran toward the person, desperate to find the last empty room.
4 seconds.
The two of you reached her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her toward the nearest open door.
2 seconds.
The three of you rushed inside.
1 second.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
The timer rang. 0 seconds.
Back in room 27, Hanni and Jun-hee peeked anxiously through the window, watching the chaos unfold outside. As the announcer listed the eliminated players, they held their breath, waiting. The second your number wasn’t called, they exhaled in relief.
Inside your room, you collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. This was the consequence of playing the hero. You were too old for this, yet here you were again, caught in the madness. Once your breath steadied, you looked at the player you had dragged in. You froze in shock. It was Player 149—the mother of Player 007. The two were peas in a pod, but you hoped nothing bad would happen now that they were separated.
Deciding not to disturb her, you let her have some space and turned to the person who had saved you. Standing up, you immediately bowed in their direction. When they didn’t make a sound or movement, you slowly lifted your head.
To your shock, you were met with Young-il’s face.
Your shocked face clashed with his angry one, but before you could process it, you leapt at him and wrapped him in a tight, warm hug. His initial surprise faded as he returned the embrace, his anger melting away. As he gently patted your hair, he quietly asked, “What happened?”
“The room we entered was already filled with someone. I wanted to stay with Jun-hee and Hanni, but there were no more rooms nearby. I couldn’t let Jun-hee run anymore, so I left them there and ran,” you explained, your voice muffled against his shirt.
He patted your head again before slightly pushing you away to look at your face. Still holding you, the two of you locked eyes. “You’re lucky I was there to save you like a superhero.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, “Thanks, superhero.”
You gave him a sweet smile before pulling away and knelt in front of the older woman. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
She snapped out of her thoughts and bowed, immediately responding, “Yes, yes. I am. Thank you so much for saving me.”
“Where’s your son?”
“Sorry?”
“Weren’t you with him?” Young-il asked, his concern growing for their safety. You watched her closely, hoping nothing bad had happened. Her eyes bounced between you and Young-il as she tried to formulate an answer. “Oh, well, I lost him. He told me to wait while he brought one more person, but in all the chaos, I lost him.”
“He didn’t come back?” Young-il’s question made her stand up abruptly.
“My son isn’t that kind of person!” she said, standing defensively. “We may be poor, but he has a good heart. He’d rather be bullied than hurt another person. He’ll never harm anyone, so watch what you say about him!”
You stood up quickly and gently placed your hands on her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Ah, it’s nothing like that, ma’am. It’s just that the two of you have been together from the start, so we were worried when we saw you alone. We didn’t mean to upset you.”
She looked at you for a moment before averting her gaze, calming down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” Young-il added, apologizing as well.
The doors opened then, signaling it was time to move on. With a bow, you grabbed Young-il’s hand, pulling him toward Jun-hee and Hanni’s room. When you saw the two of them, your eyes met, and without hesitation, you let go of Young-il’s hand and hugged them both tightly. You whispered your apologies as they cried into your neck. Young-il watched the scene with a bittersweet smile, the sight of you and the others reminding him painfully of his late wife. It felt like a love he could never return to, yet he couldn't look away.
Once they stopped crying, you gently pulled away and pointed them toward Young-il. Without hesitation, they ran to him, wrapping their arms around him and thanking him.
The four of you then returned to the platform, where you met the rest of your group. A silent understanding passed between your team and player 120’s team, as you all stood next to each other, ready for the next round. The music started. The platform began to rotate.
6
“Three women and three men, go!” Gi-hun shouted. Luckily, you all had enough members so only finding the room was the problem, Jun-hee and Hanni stuck close to you as you followed Young-il, Gi-hun, and Jung-bae to a room.
When you returned to the platform, you immediately noticed the lonely figure of player 120, with player 095 nowhere near, you assumed the worst. Standing close next to her, you offer comfort by rubbing her back. “It’s gonna be hard but please stay strong, she now lives through you.” She gives you a pained nod as you placed yourself between Hanni and Young-il.
“What do you think will be the next number?” Jung-bae asked you all.
It was quiet for a moment as everyone contemplated the answer. Without hesitation, Hanni spoke up. "Two."
Gi-hun looked at her, silently asking her to explain her answer. Instead of her, Young-il’s voice broke through the tension. "Yeah, she's correct. It's two. There are 50 rooms, and 156 people are still alive. Everyone will have a pair, but there won't be enough rooms. That's how they conduct these games."
Everyone else looked at him, some expressions confused, others with a hint of surprise, as if they hadn’t expected him to be the one explaining. And they were right.
2
The group stood in silence for a second, each person wondering who would pair with whom. The fear of the rooms being occupied quickly spread so without a second thought, Young-il grabbed your hand and hurried you away. Hanni called your name, and the others followed suit. Dae-ho grabbed Hanni, Jung-bae grabbed Gi-hun, and Player 333 grabbed Jun-hee as they all ran to secure an empty room.
You and Young-il reached the open door of an empty room, but before you could step inside, another player tackled you to the ground. As Young-il rushed to help you up, the player bolted for the room you had been eyeing. Without hesitation, Young-il grabbed the man, yanking him away and throwing him outside with unexpected force.
"Go in!" Young-il shouted at you, as he held the player in his grip.
Your heart was racing, adrenaline flooding your system. You scrambled to recover and quickly glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. With urgency, you rushed inside, positioning yourself near the door, ready to barricade it in case someone tried to steal the room from you. You signaled for Young-il to come in, and as he rushed in after you, you slammed the door behind him, using your body to hold it shut while the player left outside shouted curses at you.
Suddenly, Young-il pulled you into his arms, his hands gentle but firm, as he placed your head against his shoulder. You melted into him, the brief respite giving you both a moment of peace. But that moment quickly shattered when your eyes caught a figure in the corner of the room.
Your breath hitched. In a panic, you pushed away from Young-il and shouted at the figure, your voice trembling, "Leave! Get out!"
The timer was ticking down, and every second felt like an eternity. Panic surged within you as you watched the figure not move—your heart raced. The seconds were slipping away.
12 seconds.
"No way, we got here first," the man argued, his voice laced with defiance.
“Well your partner is not here isn’t he?! Get out!” you demanded, your voice firm despite the tension.
11 seconds.
“Shut your tramp whore! We got here first! Make yourself useful and get out of the room!” he spat back, growing angrier.
10 seconds.
Without a word, Young-il lunged at the man, grabbing him by the throat and forcing him toward the door, his strength overpowering the man’s resistance. You watched in horror, your eyes flickering between the timer and the brutal scene unfolding before you. With only three seconds left and the man still struggling. Young-il didn’t hesitate. His actions were swift and decisive, final and cold. With one swift move, the room fell silent, and the door locked.
0 seconds.
Young-il stood over the lifeless man, his face distant, his expression hollow. It was a look that didn’t belong on him. In the short time you’d known him, he’d always had this warm, protective energy, this quiet tenderness that made you feel safe. But now, his usual caring nature seemed clouded by something else.
Without thinking, you crossed the room to him, gently taking his hands in yours. You could feel his tension, his unwillingness to meet your gaze. Your heart ached to see him like this, and you whispered softly, “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” his voice barely above a whisper, as though he was apologizing for something you hadn’t even asked him to do.
“What for?” you asked, trying to meet his gaze. He avoided it, looking down at the body in the room, his face shadowed with regret.
“You did what you had to do, Young-il. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here. We’d be dead. So, thank you.” You squeezed his hands, trying to convey the depth of your gratitude, even if the words felt too small.
“But—” he started, voice faltering.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” You could feel his fear—fear that you might look at him differently now. You could see it in his eyes, that vulnerability he tried to hide. You slowly reached up, your hand finding his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting. His eyes closed as he leaned into it, the tension melting from his body for just a moment. "Murder is something I’m used to, Young-il. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… as long as you’re here."
The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken words. The closeness, the way your fingers lingered on his skin, the way your breaths synced together—it felt like everything was leading to this moment. Slowly, instinctively, you both leaned in, drawn to each other like magnets.
But just as your lips were about to meet, the loud sound of the doors unlocking shattered the moment. You both froze, hearts pounding in your chests, reality crashing back in. You pulled away quickly, your face flushing with embarrassment.
You stepped back, flustered, and gave a quick bow, mumbling, “I—I should check on Hanni and Jun-hee.” You turned to leave, nearly tripping over your shoes in the rush. That shared moment lingered in the air, and even as you fled, your heart still raced with what almost happened, you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on your back, the connection between you stronger than ever.
After the third game, you found yourself back in the fort Gi-hun had organized. The group was scattered, tending to their own thoughts or conversations. Across the room, Jun-hee was deep in conversation with Player 333, the man you now knew was her ex-fiancé—the one who’d abandoned her. Hanni stood by your side, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern as the two exchanged words that seemed both loaded and cautious.
Meanwhile, Gi-hun instructed the others to count the remaining players and determine how many wanted to continue playing.
“There are 55 players who voted in favor of continuing,” Jung-bae reported as he returned.
“Are you sure?” Gi-hun asked, his voice tense.
“I counted twice.”
Dae-ho pointed to the “O” patch on Jung-bae’s uniform. “Did you count yourself?”
Jung-bae glanced at the “O” patch on his chest, pausing before muttering, “Fifty-six.”
“Fifty-seven,” you added, raising your hand while still keeping an eye on Jun-hee and her conversation.
Dae-ho exhaled heavily, frustration evident. “We have forty-five on our side. We’re outnumbered by twelve.”
The weight of the statement settled over the group like a cloud of despair.
Young-il stood up, breaking the silence. “It may seem like a big gap, but if six of them change their minds, it’s tied. Seven, and we win.”
“But what if some of the X votes switch to O?” Dae-ho countered.
“They likely won’t,” Young-il replied evenly. “Those who voted X wanted out even when the prize was smaller. Now they can leave with even more money. Why risk their lives again?”
You joined in. “Me, and Jung-bae will definitely vote X. That’s two already. If four more switch sides, it’s a tie. Five more, and we win.”
Gi-hun nodded decisively. “Then let’s go try to convince them.”
“No,” Young-il said firmly. “That’s too risky. Most of them want to continue playing. If we start making moves, they won’t sit back and let us sway their votes.”
Gi-hun’s frustration boiled over. “So we just stand here and pray they change their minds? What if we lose again? Are we supposed to march into another game like sheep?”
Hanni hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but steady. “Gi-hunnim, I don’t think it’s wise to provoke them. They might do the same to us, and they have the upper hand. People are here for money. If we start something, it could lead to a fight before we even vote.”
Her words calmed the rising tension, and the group fell into silence as guards entered the room, signaling the start of the next vote.
After the third game, only 100 players remained. The prize money now totaled 35.6 billion won, meaning each player will earn 356 million won if they would go home now. Jung-bae approached Gi-hun, his face grim yet determined. “With that kind of money,” he began, his voice low but certain, “some might change their minds. If we can convince six more people to vote X, we’ll tie. Seven, and we win.” His words hung in the air, filling the room with a fragile sense of hope.
The guards soon interrupted, announcing that the voting would proceed in reverse order of player numbers. The tension thickened as Gi-hun approached the booth, the echo of his footsteps amplifying the silence. “Player 456, please cast your vote,” one guard intoned, his monotone voice chilling in its detachment.
One by one, players approached the booth, many clinging to their original decisions. The scoreboard slowly reflected the changes. When it was Jung-bae’s turn, he strode forward with purpose, slamming his hand on the X button. As he returned to Gi-hun’s side, he showed off his X patch and declared, “Seven more to win,” his voice carrying the first flicker of confidence the group had heard in hours.
Player 380 voted X. Relief swept through your group—six more to go.
Player 185. X. Five more.
Your turn came, and you didn’t hesitate. X. Four more.
Player 125. X. Three.
Player 120 followed, then Player 015. Each X vote brought you closer to the tie. When Player 007 slammed the X button, he shouted, “Let’s go home!” and tore off his O patch triumphantly.
“That’s seven!” Jung-bae yelled, grinning in excitement. “We did it!”
The celebration was short-lived. The next player, an elderly woman, calmly voted O. The room fell silent as her choice appeared on the scoreboard: 49 for X, 50 for O.
Everyone turned toward the last player, Player 001. The atmosphere shifted, the tension nearly suffocating. The air felt heavy with anticipation as he slowly made his way to the booth. Young-il’s slow steps toward the voting booth felt endless. Every step seemed deliberate, as though he were savoring the weight of the moment.
Hanni, looking at Young-il, quietly gripped Jun-hee’s arm, her face pale. “What’s wrong?” Jun-hee asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.
Hanni hesitated before speaking, her words barely audible. “Young-ilnim... he scares me sometimes.”
Jun-hee frowned. “Why? Did something happen?”
“When we were waiting for [Name]nim during the third game, I thought I saw him making eye contact with the guards,” Hanni murmured. “It was like... like they knew him. I don’t know, maybe I imagined it, but it didn’t feel right.”
Jun-hee’s brows furrowed, her protective instincts kicking in. “We should tell [Name]nim.”
“No!” Hanni shook her head rapidly. “I don’t want to ruin what they have. [Name]nim deserves to be happy. If I’m wrong, I don’t want to mess things up.”
Jun-hee looked at her with a mix of worry and understanding, her hand coming to rest on Hanni’s shoulder. Before either could say more, the sharp sound of Player 001’s vote echoed through the room.
X.
A stunned silence followed before the scoreboard updated, displaying an even 50 for X and 50 for O. Young-il turned to the group, a smile on his face as he raised his hand in an okay sign. Your side erupted into quiet cheers, exchanging looks of disbelief and relief.
“It’s a tie. We did it!” Dae-ho exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders in excitement. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking him back as a rush of emotion coursed through you.
Relief swept through the room, but a palpable tension lingered as everyone waited to hear the outcome of the tie.
"Wait, since it’s a tie, what does it mean?" Player 100 asked.
The guard responded flatly, "Clause Three: If the voting ends in a tie, players will vote again. To give you time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow." He glanced around the room, his gaze cold and impassive. "Until then, please consider your future carefully."
As dinner commenced, your team welcomed new members—Players 120, 149, 007, and 246. The mood was a bit lighter, though tinged with underlying anxiety. Small talk carried the group through the meal, with some making half-hearted jokes to distract from the harsh reality of their situation.
“I’m surprised by the food today,” Hanni remarked, biting eagerly into her roll of gimbap. “I thought it would be bread and milk until the end.” You gently nudged her to slow down, worried she might choke.
Jun-hee, chewing thoughtfully, leaned closer to Hanni. “I was so scared earlier, especially with Young-ilnim. I thought for sure he’d vote O like the first time.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Hey, we really should tell her—”
“Tell me what?” you interjected, raising a brow.
“N-nothing!” Hanni stammered, her cheeks coloring as she avoided your gaze.
“Hmm, I’m watching you two,” you teased, making a gesture before turning your attention to Dae-ho, who was animatedly chatting with Jung-bae.
“I really thought you were going to vote O, like on day one,” Dae-ho admitted, glancing at Young-il. Jung-bae, clearly done with the male's rambling, stuffed a piece of gimbap into his mouth before addressing Young-il directly. “Thank you, Young-il. You gave us another chance.”
Young-il shook his head slightly, his expression neutral. “I just want to stay alive. The money’s enough now, so I need to get out of here. Alive.” His eyes flickered briefly to Gi-hun as he emphasized the last word, the intensity of his gaze sending a chill through the group.
The moment was interrupted by Player 246, who spoke up, his voice laced with apprehension. “Do you think we’ll be able to win the second vote?”
Reality hit like a blow, extinguishing the fragile flicker of hope that had momentarily lit the group. A somber silence followed until Young-il broke it. “We’ll have to go for broke,” he said, his tone measured but firm. “Like Gi-hun said earlier, we should try to convince some of them to change their minds before the second vote.”
“Will they, though?” Player 007 asked, his skepticism clear. “Most of them are blinded by the money now.”
“My son,” his mother chimed in with an oddly cheerful tone, “When you’re hungry, you start to miss home. All we have is this good roll of gimbap, and everyone will feel the pangs of hunger tomorrow.” Her logic was far-fetched, but no one dared contradict her.
007 stood and tried to address the opposing team, using the oll of gimbap as leverage. However, instead of having the result he expected to get, he got the total opposite. The men shouted over each other, their voices rising to a chaotic crescendo. Gi-hun, visibly conflicted, stared at his gimbap before unrolling it. Inside was a fork, its sharp prongs gleaming ominously. A weapon.
Unbeknownst to most, a fight had broken out in the bathroom. The announcement of eliminated players startled everyone into silence. Gasps and murmurs filled the room as the piggy bank suddenly rang. With 95 players remaining, the prize money now stood at 36.1 billion won, increasing each player’s worth to 380 million won.
“What’s happening?” Jung-bae whispered, his voice trembling with unease. His question hung unanswered as the bathroom doors opened. Players emerged, bloodied and bruised, their faces marked by fear and rage.
Player 124 from Team O stumbled into the middle of the room, his voice shaking with anger. “Listen, Team O!” he shouted. “When we were in the bathroom, these X bastards tried to kill us! They killed some of us, including my friend—”
“Bullshit!” Player 047 from Team X shouted back, cutting him off. “You’re the ones who started it!” He gestured toward where Team X sat, his voice rising with fury. “They threatened one of our people! They attacked us to win the second vote!”
The room erupted in chaos. People were shouting, pointing fingers, and some even started pushing and shoving. The tension in the air was thick, and it felt like everyone was on edge, afraid of what might happen next. You could feel the anxiety creeping in as everyone seemed to turn on each other.
In the midst of the chaos, Player 100 quickly rounded up the O team, ordering a headcount. Player 047 did the same with the X team, trying to keep control. The numbers were close, with 47 players on the O team and 48 on the X team. The X team now had the advantage in the voting.
“Two people died on our side,” Player 047 said, sitting down. “That means we lost three, and now they have the upper hand.” A player on their team pointed out, “We still have a better chance. We’re one vote ahead now.”
Jung-bae, trying to stay positive, spoke up. “As long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote tomorrow.” The room quieted down as everyone whispered amongst themselves, the weight of the upcoming vote heavy on their minds.
Suddenly, the announcement broke the silence. “Attention, please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”
Player 047 stood up, trying to rally his team. “Listen, no one can change their mind, okay? We’ll win tomorrow. Stay strong, we’ll make it through.” His words were filled with determination, and the room filled with a low hum of agreement from his team.
Once everyone started to settle down, Dae-ho leaned in, speaking in a low voice to your group. “Those guys are acting really suspicious. They’re planning something, I can feel it.”
Jung-bae, not paying much attention to the others, just waved him off. “Whatever. Once we win tomorrow’s vote, it’ll all be over.” He sounded confident, but you could tell he was just trying to keep the morale up.
You turned your gaze to Gi-hun, his face unreadable. You knew he was thinking about the situation carefully. After everything that had happened, you weren’t sure what he was planning. But something about the way the O team had been looking at you all, with a certain malice in their eyes, told you that there was more to this than just a vote.
Finally, Gi-hun spoke, his voice calm but filled with tension. “Once the lights go out, they’ll attack us.” The group went silent at his words, the weight of his statement sinking in. 007’s eyes widened in disbelief as he asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” You replied this time, everyone looked at you waiting for your explanation. “These people, they didn’t vote O because they wanted to play. They voted O to get more money. And now that they know killing increases the prize, they’ll do whatever it takes to do it.”
Young-il, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “Then we should attack first. We need to take them by surprise.” His suggestion was met with agreement from Player 047, who nodded, adding, “We have the women and elderly on our side. If they attack first, we’ll be at a huge disadvantage.”
But Gi-hun wasn’t on board with the idea. “No. We can’t start a fight like that.” Everyone looked at him, confused. “We need to stay calm. If we kill each other, that’s exactly what they want.”
Jung-bae frowned, clearly not understanding. “Who are they? Who are you talking about?”
“The makers of the game,” Gi-hun said bitterly, his eyes burning with anger. “They’re the ones who want us to kill each other. They’re watching us right now.”
The room fell silent as the others absorbed this revelation. You felt a chill run down your spine. “Where are they?” Dae-ho asked, his voice tight. You could hear the fear in his words, even if he was trying to hide it.
Gi-hun didn’t flinch. He simply looked up at the ceiling, his gaze steady. “Up there,” He murmured, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. Slowly, everyone looked up at the ceiling, following his gaze. Gi-hun’s eyes were fixed on the higher levels. “The control rooms are above us. Their leader wears a black mask. If we capture him, we’ll have leverage.”
Young-il’s skepticism was evident. “How are you going to fight them? They’ve got guns.”
“We’ll take their guns,” Gi-hun answered plainly, locking eyes with Young-il. His words weren’t a suggestion—they were a plan.
“From the masked men?” Player 246 asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
Gi-hun nodded resolutely. “Yes. We’ll catch them off guard. They won’t expect it.”
“That’s too dangerous,” Young-il said, shaking his head. “Even if we manage to steal their guns, we’ll be outnumbered.”
Gi-hun’s eyes hardened. “What’s your plan, then? Sit around and wait to die? Watch as they pick us off, one by one? Is that your idea of survival?” His voice was harsh, the desperation in his words cutting through the tension.
The silence that followed was thick, as everyone contemplated the harsh reality they faced.
120 spoke up, her voice uncertain but full of fear. “Do we even stand a chance?”
“We do,” Gi-hun said, his voice unwavering. “If we strike first, we catch them off guard. They’ll never see it coming. The people running this game think we’re powerless, but we have the upper hand now. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”
“How do you plan to take their guns?” Young-il asked again, his skepticism still evident.
Gi-hun didn’t hesitate, as if he had already thought it through. “Once the lights go out, we’ll have our chance.”
Lights out in 5 minutes.
As everyone made their way to their beds, Jun-hee excused herself, telling you she needed to talk to someone. You offered to go with her, but she waved you off, saying she’d be quick.
You turned to Hanni, who had a distant, absent look in her eyes. She wasn’t fully there, trapped in her own thoughts. You rubbed her back gently to snap her out of it. Poor Hanni. She was so young, and she didn’t deserve any of this. She shouldn’t have been thrown into this nightmare.
She deserved a future, a chance to grow and live, not this. It pained you to see her face filled with confusion and fear. There was so much darkness surrounding her, and she was so small, so vulnerable. It made your heart heavy.
“Stick close to me, okay?” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you brushed her hair behind her ear. “If you can’t find me, go to Jun-hee, okay?”
Hanni nodded, but her expression didn’t fully match her words. You could see the uncertainty in her eyes. You gave her a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to offer what little comfort you could. Rocking her gently, you tucked her in, smoothing the blanket around her, and gave her one last kiss before heading to your own bed.
Lights out in 10.
The countdown echoed. You lay down, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. The seconds felt like hours.
9. What if this is the night? The thought couldn’t help but cross your mind, but you pushed it aside. You couldn’t afford to think that way now. You had to stay focused.
8.
7. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was almost deafening, the pressure of the countdown like a vice around your chest.
6.
5. Keep it together. You told yourself. Focus. You had to be ready.
4. You thought about Hanni, about Jun-hee. What would happen to them if you didn’t make it? The thought alone made your chest tighten.
3. You forcefully removed them from your thoughts. This was not the time to think about them, they'll be fine, they'll be safe. They'll get out of here alive.
2. The darkness was getting closer. The room was quiet, but you could feel the tension, the electricity in the air. Everyone was waiting, bracing themselves.
1.
The lights flickered and then went off, plunging the room into darkness. Your mind immediately went to Gi-hun’s words: Once the lights go out, get under the bottom beds quickly. You must not get caught by those planning to attack us.
It was quiet.
Then it was loud.
The sounds of screams and footsteps filling the air as people were attacked and killed left and right. You could hear the unmistakable sounds of struggles, the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Panic rippled through the room. You prayed silently, hoping that Young-il, Hanni, Jun-hee, and everyone else would make it through the night. You clung to the hope that you would survive, that you wouldn’t be one of the unlucky ones who wouldn’t make it to the morning.
After minutes of waiting, the sound of doors opening signaled the end of the wait. You immediately crawled out from under the bottom bed following phase 2 of Gi-hun's plan.
Playing dead, you stayed as still as possible, listening for the guard’s footsteps. When you heard one approach, you tensed. As the guard scanned your ID, you reached out and grabbed them, pulling them into a headlock. They struggled, fighting to break free, but you tightened your grip, whispering a soft apology. With one swift movement, you snapped their neck. The familiar crack echoed in your ears. Without hesitation, you grabbed their gun, firing at nearby guards, taking them down one by one.
Quickly, you crawled under another bed, planning your next move. The guards on the upper beds were your next target. You fired a shot at an unsuspecting guard, laughing quietly as they looked around, confused. Before they could react, you shot again, taking them out.
From bed to bed, you moved stealthily, inching closer to the stage. Hidden in the shadows, you waited, watching the guards’ every move. You knew patience was key—waiting until they were close enough. When the retreat announcement echoed through the room, you sprang into action. Leaping from your hiding spot, you unleashed a spray of bullets, taking down the remaining guards one by one. Even as they tried to retreat into the gate, you kept firing, not giving them a chance to escape.
But just as the last guard made it to the gate, you pulled the trigger, only to hear a click. You were out of bullets. Panic surged through you. You needed to reload, but before you could, you heard Gi-hun shout, "Hold fire!" You stopped, nodding as you obeyed his command.
Jung-bae and Player 246 rushed forward and forced the last guard to his knees, making him raise his hands in surrender. Slinging your empty gun over your shoulder, you quickly ran to the back, where Hanni and Jun-hee were waiting for you.
“Unnie!” Hanni whispered-yelled as you came into view, her eyes lighting up in relief. Jun-hee was right behind her, giving you a big smile and waving you over with an expression full of warmth. You didn’t hesitate, pulling both of them into a tight hug. The moment felt comforting, but the danger still lingered in the air. You held their faces gently, searching for any signs of injury.
“Are you both hurt?” you asked, voice steady but filled with concern.
In the background, you could hear Gi-hun telling everyone to come out, reassuring them that you wouldn’t hurt them. His voice was low but commanding, a sense of authority settling over the group.
Jun-hee and Hanni shook their heads before telling you they were okay. You exhaled softly, a sigh of relief escaping you as the weight in your chest lifted slightly. You gave them a small smile.
“When you mentioned collecting guns and gunmanship, I really thought you meant some online FPS game,” Hanni said, trying to lighten the mood, a playful glint in her eyes. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“Really now? Well, I might be old, but not that old. I’m still strong enough to do these things,” you said, flexing your arms with an exaggerated grunt. Your muscles were hardly impressive, but the action was enough to make the three of you laugh. It felt good—too good for the situation you were all in.
You continued to smile as the laughter settled, but your thoughts flickered back to the reality. “Alright, you two, go ahead. I’ll catch up with you soon. I need to collect the guns and ammo from the guards first,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. You ushered them toward the center before you set about your task.
As you moved toward the fallen guards, your hands quickly went to work, collecting the weapons and ammo. You moved with precision, and were so in the zone that you barely noticed a figure following you.
“Are you alright?”
A sharp breath caught in your throat as you jerked your head toward the sound. In an instant, your fingers gripped the handle of your gun, and you pointed it at the source of the voice. When you saw who it was, your tension loosened, but only slightly. Your breath came out in a shaky exhale as you lowered the gun.
“Young-il, you scared me!” you said, pressing a hand to your chest, heart still racing from the sudden scare.
“Ah? That so?” he replied, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m very sorry then.”
“Oh, shut up. That’s not the look of someone who’s sorry,” you shot back, though a smile tugged at your own lips.
The two of you shared a brief laugh before the tension in your bodies dissipated enough for you to focus on the task at hand again. “Help me out with these, will you?” you asked, gesturing to the weapons scattered on the ground. He didn’t hesitate, moving to gather the magazines and guns.
The two of you worked in relative silence, the only sounds the shifting of metal and the occasional clink of ammunition being loaded. Despite everything, the atmosphere between you felt strangely light. It was as if, for a moment, the world outside was forgotten and it was just the two of you working together. You didn’t know why, but it was oddly comforting.
“May I ask how you’re so familiar with guns?” he asked, genuinely curious now. He hadn’t expected you to be the type, but he wasn’t in a position to judge anymore.
You hesitated for a moment before replying, your voice softening. “Well, I used to have an aunt who was really into guns. She married a fellow gun enthusiast, and together they opened up a shooting range near our home. At first, I wasn’t that interested. Guns weren’t my thing, really.” You paused, remembering the past. “But then I started noticing someone—someone I had a crush on. He was always reading about guns, and I thought maybe I could get him to teach me. I thought it’d be a way to connect, you know?”
Young-il nodded as he stayed quiet, finding comfort in your voice as you talked him away. You took a deep breath before continuing, the words spilling out freely.
“When I asked him about it, he just brushed me off. Told me that girls like me should stick to cooking and cleaning and that guns were for ‘big boys’ like him. Some bullshit like that.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t take it well. It pissed me off, actually. And from that day on, I got serious about guns—just to prove I could be as good as any guy.” You let out a bitter chuckle. “Now, I’ve got a collection at home.”
The air around you seemed to shift. The lightheartedness had drained from the conversation, and you felt the past creeping up on you. Young-il must’ve noticed the change in your mood, because he didn’t speak right away. Instead, he gave you space, knowing you needed it.
A few moments passed before you spoke again, your voice distant. “A few years after we met again, things just... happened. One thing led to another, and I ended up having a beautiful baby girl.” You smiled softly, but it quickly faded. “You should meet her. I think she’d like you.”
Young-il’s face softened for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. You felt the smile fade completely as you continued. “I’m happy to have her, I really am... But it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. The guy... he wasn’t in it for the right reasons. He just wanted to drain me dry and disappear. He never told me about his debt. And the collectors...”
You trailed off, the heaviness of the past taking over. Young-il stayed quiet, giving you the space you needed to process everything.
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Young-il said gently, his voice softer than before.
You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile. “No, no… it’s okay. You deserve to know.” A brief silence passed between you two before you started explaining, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air.
“When the collectors came to my house, I found out that he had put my name and address down as the guarantor. In their eyes, I owed them around 1 billion won, but that was far from the truth. They told me that since I was their ‘favorite’ debtee, they struck up a deal. They’d lower the debt to 800 million... and another form of payment to cover the remaining 200 million…” You paused, your breath catching in your throat. “In return... they’d keep my kid hostage until I paid them every last cent.”
Young-il looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. He didn’t know what to say, but his expression was enough. He opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it, opting for silence. After a while, he let his mouth open. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It must’ve taken a lot of courage to tell me, especially to someone you’ve only just met.”
Grabbing the last available gun, you smiled back at him, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “It’s alright, Young-il,” you said, your voice steady despite the heaviness in your heart. “I know this is not the right time for these things, but you’re definitely more than just someone I’ve only just met.”
Young-il froze, your words sinking into him like a knife he hadn’t seen coming. He kept his face neutral, but inside, a storm raged. He had tried to suppress it—whatever it was that made his chest tighten whenever you spoke to him, that made his thoughts drift to you in moments of quiet. But now, hearing you say those words, the feelings he had buried clawed their way to the surface.
His gaze flickered to you, trying to gauge if you understood what you had just done. But your eyes met his with a casual earnestness, as if you hadn’t realized the impact of your words. Of course, you didn’t. You couldn’t.
You didn’t know that every small interaction with you chipped away at the walls he had built around himself. That every glance, every word, every fleeting moment made it harder for him to maintain the facade of indifference he had perfected over the years.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. What was he supposed to say? That you were right? That you were more than just someone he’d met in the chaos of the games? That you had become something he didn’t know how to handle?
No. He couldn’t say any of that. Not now. Not ever.
So instead, he said nothing.
“Are you ready?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing inside him.
He nodded once, stiffly, as if the motion required more effort than it should. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and even.
As you turned away, he lingered for a moment, watching you. His chest ached with a mix of emotions he didn’t want to name—ones he thought he had locked away when he lost the love of his life. He had told himself there was no room for them, especially not now, especially not with you.
And yet, here they were, threatening to unravel him.
He shook his head, forcing himself to follow after you, his steps heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel—not here, not in this place where feelings were a liability.
But as much as he tried to bury it, he knew it was too late. He had already let you in, even if you didn’t know it.
You stood beside Young-il, both of you observing the remaining players, the silent anticipation thick in the air. The guns and ammo laid before you, the weight of the upcoming mission pressing down on everyone. Gi-hun, at the front of the group, finally broke the silence, his voice steady yet resolute.
“We will capture those who captured us, putting an end to this game, and making them pay.”
The weight of his words hit hard, but there was no turning back now. Everyone knew what was at stake. Beside Jun-hee, Hanni's gaze lingered on Young-il, watching him carefully. There was something off about him, something she couldn’t quite place, but she was determined to figure it out. She was always one to notice the little things.
Gi-hun’s voice rang out again, more direct this time. “Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward.”
For a long moment, no one moved. Fear was a suffocating blanket that kept them frozen in place. Then, Jung-bae stepped forward, his presence almost a defiance against the tension in the room.
“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice firm, though tinged with his own nervousness. “We’re scared too. But this might be our last chance to make it out of here alive.” A beat of silence followed, heavy and thick. Then, with a quiet resolve, Jung-bae continued, “Fight with us, so we can go home together.”
One by one, four men stepped up, their faces a mix of fear and determination. They grabbed their guns and ammo, preparing for the fight ahead. Gi-hun began instructing everyone to check their ammo, his eyes scanning the group for any sign of hesitation. Jung-bae handed out radios, the weight of their importance not lost on anyone.
“We’ll be using channel 7, the lucky number,” he announced. Everyone nodded in unison, following his instructions.
Gi-hun turned to Young-il, who was checking his ammo with meticulous care. “Thank you for earlier,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. Young-il didn’t look up, his focus still on the gun in his hands. “You can buy me soju when we get out,” he muttered, his voice gruff but carrying a faint hint of amusement.
You overheard their exchange and couldn’t resist the urge to tease. “What about me? Where’s my thanks?” You pushed the ammo back into its place, a smirk playing at your lips as both men glanced at you in surprise. Your chuckle filled the tense air, lightening the mood for a brief moment. “I’m just messing with you. Good luck out there, Captain. Get us out of here.”
Gi-hun smiled back at you, nodding before turning to check the rest of the team.
Meanwhile, Player 120, noticing Player 246 struggling with his ammo, stepped forward without hesitation. She called for everyone’s attention, and the group grew silent as she began to demonstrate how to operate the gun in her hands.
“This is the MP5, a submachine gun,” she said with a confident grin, her hands moving smoothly as she demonstrated how to load, unload, and switch the mode of the weapon.
You couldn’t help but watch her, fascinated by the fluidity of her movements. There was something almost hypnotic about the way she handled the weapon, and you felt a rush of excitement. You exchanged a glance with Young-il, catching his teasing look. Your eyes narrowed playfully in return.
“What?” you said, your voice light, but with a hint of a challenge. “It’s not every day you find another girl with the same interest as me.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything,” Young-il replied, his tone nonchalant, but there was a subtle spark of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you. His lips quirked slightly, as if he was trying to suppress a smile but failing just a little.
You shot him a playful glare, your eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "Just saying, it's rare to find someone who gets it." You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly as you met his gaze, your voice teasing but with a quiet warmth.
Young-il raised an eyebrow, his smirk lingering. "I get it, trust me," he said, his voice a lot softer.
As player 120 returned to her spot, You and Player 246, who seemed just as curious as you, looked at her in astonishment. “Where did you learn so much about guns?” 246 asked, his tone a mix of awe and genuine interest. You were itching to ask the same thing, and when Player 120 answered, you couldn’t help but grin.
“Ah, I was a sergeant first class in the ROK Special Forces,” she said, her tone casual but proud.
You practically beamed at her answer. “Wow,” you muttered, feeling a newfound respect for the woman who had so confidently shared her experience. You turned to the male beside you, ready to share your thoughts, but as your gaze flickered over to Young-il, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before—a distance in his expression, something off. The familiarity of his stoic face was still there, but there was a coldness behind it now that you couldn’t place. You felt your chest tighten, and for a moment, your confidence faltered. The words you wanted to say got stuck in your throat. Was there something bothering him?
You hesitated for a second before turning your attention back to Player 120, deciding not to press. You wanted to focus on the task ahead, but that nagging feeling in your chest refused to subside.
Gi-hun’s voice broke through the quiet, cutting through your thoughts. He pointed a revolver at the guard on the ground, demanding that he remove his mask. You felt your stomach turn as the young guard’s face was revealed. He looked no older than 25, his eyes wide with fear. Jung-bae’s reaction mirrored your own—he was visibly disturbed by the sight. He approached the guard, his voice filled with genuine concern. “Do your parents know what you’re doing?”
Before the guard could answer, Gi-hun cocked the revolver, silencing the room in an instant. The tension in the air was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
His voice was low, almost a growl, but it carried with an unyielding edge. “Take us to your captain.” His words hung in the air, final and unwavering.
You followed the group, positioning yourself toward the back of the line just in front of Player 120. Before stepping through the door, you cast a glance back and saw Hanni and Jun-hee's worried faces. You offered them a warm, comforting smile, trying to reassure them, even if you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer in that moment.
As you stepped through, you seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the other woman in the group.
“Hey, uh… my name’s [Lastname] [Name]. I just wanted to say, I really admire how fearless and knowledgeable you are with guns, especially for a girl. Not that it means much, I’m a girl too. It's just... the only other woman I knew who was into guns was my aunt,” you said, trying to keep the tone casual despite the nerves gnawing at you.
Player 120, Cho Hyun-ju, gave you a surprised but warm smile. “Nice to meet you, [Name]. I didn’t expect you to be so open, especially with how tense everything is.”
Before you could respond, the sound of Gi-hun’s revolver firing cut through the air. The loud shot echoed, silencing the recorded announcement urging everyone to return to their beds. “Down!” Gi-hun barked. Your eyes snapped up, spotting the movement of pink guards approaching from the corner.
"At one o'clock!" Gi-hun yelled, his voice urgent. You quickly ducked, instinctively reaching for your weapon. Hyun-ju, without hesitation, took cover and began firing.
“Cover me!” she shouted as she moved, using the new position to get a better shot. You returned fire, covering her as she positioned herself to pick off the guards. Every few moments, you switched between ducking for cover and popping up to fire. The rhythm became second nature, the cacophony of gunfire almost drowning out your thoughts. Bang, cover. Bang, cover.
“Cease fire!” Gi-hun ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. You dropped behind cover, a sharp breath escaping you as the last of the guards fell. Gi-hun quickly checked in with everyone. You gave him a thumbs-up, signaling you were good.
"Alright, we move up," he said, his voice steady as always. You nodded, scanning your surroundings. Your eyes flicked to the CCTV camera near you. With a quick movement, you raised your gun and fired, taking out the lens. You saw Hyun-ju doing the same on her end. The two of you exchanged a brief nod, silently acknowledging the trust that had formed in the chaos.
Gi-hun led the group forward, signaling everyone to check corners as you moved.
Suddenly, you all halted as Gi-hun interrogated a guard. Gun to his face, the guard meekly pointed ahead. “The entrance to the management area is around the corner. The control room is right above it,” he said, fear evident in his voice.
“Move it then,” Gi-hun ordered, pushing the guard forward.
The guard hesitated, then started to reach for his mask.
“What are you doing?” Gi-hun demanded.
“I need to get my mask to bypass security,” the guard replied quickly. Gi-hun hesitated but allowed the guard to move, sensing no immediate threat.
But then, the unexpected happened. The guard froze, staring blankly ahead, paralyzed. Before you could react, a bullet pierced his skull, sending him crumpling to the ground. Chaos erupted immediately as the sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Guards flooded in, and you scrambled for cover, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
The gunfire was relentless. You moved, ducking and shooting, ducking and shooting, covering every angle as you fought for your life. The intensity of the moment was blinding, but you couldn't afford to lose focus.
“I’ll go for the management area!” Gi-hun yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.
“Will you be able to find it? Should I come with you?” Young-il called after him, a note of concern in his voice.
“No,” Gi-hun responded sharply. “I’ll go with Jung-bae. You need to buy us some time.”
Young-il nodded, his gaze sharp. Gi-hun and Jung-bae moved off in one direction, leaving the rest of you to handle the remaining guards.
Noticing two of your friends had bolted, you immediately motioned for cover, weaving between Young-il and Dae-ho. You glanced at Young-il, asking where they were going and what their instructions were. Young-il quickly relayed their plan, his voice steady despite the urgency.
With a firm nod, you raised your gun, ready to provide the cover fire needed. The next few moments were a blur of bullets and evasive maneuvers as you helped keep the guards at bay. You could only hope that Gi-hun and Jung-bae would find what they needed before it was too late.
As you continued to fight off the guards, you noticed Dae-ho's frantic movements. He was wasting bullets, shooting wildly without even aiming. The gunfire echoed around you, but his shots were going wide, not hitting anyone. You could tell he was struggling.
When he ran out of ammo, you placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. “You good there, Dae-ho? Do you have some extra ammo?”
His eyes were wide, panicked, and full of fear. You could see the signs of someone who had experienced more than they should have, someone who had been pushed to the edge. His reaction was familiar to you—too familiar. He was struggling with some kind of trauma, possibly PTSD. Despite his fear of gunshots, he had still volunteered to fight, a true marine in spirit, but the weight of it was starting to break him.
Young-il noticed the exchange, his gaze shifting between you and Dae-ho. You handed Dae-ho some of your extra ammo, keeping your voice calm as you tried to keep him grounded. “You have to be resourceful. It’s okay to take a breather. I’m here to cover you.”
Dae-ho gulped, nodding shakily as he began to reload. You took the moment to shoot a few guards, hiding behind cover to keep your position steady.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere!” Player 047 shouted, his frustration evident. “Let’s follow them up to the upper level!”
You immediately shook your head, disagreeing with the idea. “We might get surrounded if you don’t have a plan! We need to wait for Gi-hun and Jung-bae’s signal!”
Young-il nodded, agreeing with your assessment. “Let’s wait until they find the control room.”
You were about to reposition when a bullet grazed your cheek, the sharp sting making you flinch. Blood seeped out, but thankfully it wasn’t anything fatal. Still, the pain was enough to remind you of how dangerous the situation was. You cursed under your breath as you pressed a hand to your face, trying to stop the bleeding.
Young-il noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he shot the guard who had fired at you, his sharp eyes never leaving your form as he checked on you. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah… thanks, ah shit, that hurts!” you winced, but you quickly resumed your position, peeking out to shoot, then ducking back into cover. Peak, shoot, hide. Peak, shoot, hide.
But then came the dreaded sound of an empty magazine clicking. Shit, you were out of ammo. You reached for your pockets, frantically searching for spare magazines when Hyun-ju’s voice rang through the hall. “Everyone, check your magazines!”
The tension in the air grew as you all checked your remaining rounds. It was bad for everyone—almost all of you were running on fumes, ammo running dangerously low. Even Young-il was out.
Just as you were about to panic, the radio crackled to life.
“Young-il, Dae-ho, [Name], can you hear me?” Jung-bae’s voice came through, sounding strained.
Young-il looked at you, signaling for you to cover while he responded. You nodded, raising your gun to keep the guards in check.
“Yeah, we hear you. What’s the status?” Young-il replied, his voice steady despite the chaos around you.
Jung-bae’s voice came back quickly. “I think we’re below the control room now! But we need backup and more ammo!”
“We’re running low on ammo too!” Young-il yelled.
“There should be spare magazines in the soldier’s pockets in our quarters. Go get them!” Gi-hun ordered.
“Got it!” Young-il responded immediately, turning to the group. “Did you hear that? They need backup! Four of us will go, and the rest will stay here. Join us once you’ve gotten more magazines.”
“Who wants to go with me?” Young-il asked, looking around. Without hesitation, you raised your hand, determination in your eyes. “I’ll go!”
Young-il looked at you with a troubled expression, about to argue, but before he could stop you, two other voices spoke up in agreement. Player 047 and Player 015 both volunteered to join, and Young-il, after a final look at your determined face, gave a resigned nod. “Alright, follow me.”
The four of you moved cautiously, alert as you made your way toward the stairs. The hallways were dimly lit, bathed in an eerie purple hue that made everything seem surreal, almost as though you were walking through some twisted version of reality. The stairs seemed endless, twisting upward in the haze of the purple glow.
Young-il gave the order for you three to go ahead of him, signaling you to take the lead. Without hesitation, you followed. What you didn’t notice however, was Young-il making eye contact with the CCTV camera, and silently ordering the guards—through hand signals—not to shoot you.
As you turned the corner, your eyes immediately locked onto Gi-hun and Jung-bae. Relief surged through you for a second before you remembered the danger. “Did you find the control room?” you asked, your voice a mix of urgency and hope.
“I think it's right up there, but we can’t go this way,” Gi-hun said, his voice tense. “I want you to find another way.”
“I did a scan of the layout here,” Young-il said, sounding calm, but there was a quiet determination in his voice. “I’m sure there’s a way to go around them.” He turned to you, his gaze steady but full of unspoken concern. “You stay here with Jung-bae and Gi-hun. You still have more ammo, so guard them, okay?”
You blinked, feeling your heart tighten in your chest. “What?” you asked, surprise creeping into your voice. “Are you sure about that?”
Before you could press further, Young-il’s voice softened but carried an edge of finality. “I want you guys to keep their focus on you. We’ll hit them from behind.” He paused, his gaze meeting yours for a long moment, his eyes betraying just how much this weighed on him. There was tenderness there in his look, desipte that, there was no room for argument.
You saw the worry in his eyes, but also something else—a protective instinct that almost made your heart skip a beat. You knew there was no way to change his mind so you just nodded, pushing down the tightness in your chest and grabbed your last magazine. “Take this, Young-il, and be safe.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on you. “You sure?”
You nodded firmly, despite the fear gnawing at your insides. “Dae-ho will be back with more.”
His hand brushed yours as he took the magazine from you, and for a split second, it felt like time slowed down. The touch, however brief, left a lingering warmth in your palm, and when his gaze lingered on you, there was an almost imperceptible softness in his expression that made your heart flutter, even if only for a moment.
With a final, decisive nod, Young-il, 047, and 015 ran as you peeked out from the wall, your pulse racing as you provided cover for him and his team. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the familiar sting of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
After a while you heard Young-il’s voice crackle over the radio: “We found it. Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we will hit them from behind.” Gi-hun’s voice followed shortly after, giving you the go signal. There was no turning back now.
Your grip on the gun tightened, and as you moved into position, you didn’t hesitate. With one last glance at Gi-hun and Jung-bae, you stepped out from your cover and opened fire, the rapid succession of shots echoing off the walls. You kept your aim steady, focusing on their movements, keeping them distracted. Each shot rang out, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on you—your mind was focused, but there was a constant undercurrent of worry, the feeling that you were too far from where you needed to be.
It had been a few minutes since you saw Young-il. The soldiers were still there, and a tightness formed in your chest. Something wasn’t right. You pushed the thought away, staying focused on the fight at hand, but you couldn’t ignore the nagging worry. Every time the radio buzzed, your heart skipped a beat, hoping to hear something from him.
And then, your prayers were answered. Hope rushed through as your radio buzzed to life. However, everything came crashing down when heard his voice. Weak. “Gi-hun… Jung-bae… [Name]… I’m sorry…”
Your stomach dropped. You could barely breathe as the world seemed to slow around you. You grabbed for your radio with shaking hands, putting it up to your mouth as your heart raced. “S-stay where you are, Young-il. I’m coming.” The words barely left your mouth before you were already running, ignoring the shouts from Gi-hun and Jung-bae as you pushed forward.
Your feet pounded against the ground as you ran, the urgency flooding your veins. You couldn’t think. Your focus was a single thought—get to him, and get to him now. The radio fell silent as it slipped off your hands, and you were left with nothing but the sound of your breathing and your footsteps echoing in the halls.
You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to accept it. But as the minutes passed, and the distance between you and your goal seemed endless, something inside you shifted. Desperation took hold of you, and with each step, it felt like you were running out of time. Tears blurred your vision, and you wiped your eyes, but the fear that gripped you didn’t let up.
You stumbled, tripping over your own feet, the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. Your mind screamed at you to keep going, but your body couldn’t take it. You hit the ground, scraping your palms. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You needed to find him.
And then, you saw it. A flash of white. A shoe, just barely visible around the corner. Your heart skipped a beat. Ignoring the pain, you propped yourself up, the desperation pushing you forward.
You ran toward it, praying, hoping—maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance. But as you turned the corner, everything seemed to stop. A sudden thud behind you—the sound of heavy footsteps, too close. You spun around just in time to see a black-clad guard standing before you.
Instinct kicked in. You raised your gun, fingers wrapped tightly around the grip, your eyes locking on the target. You squeezed the trigger, but instead of the sharp report of a shot, the only sound was the click of an empty chamber. Panic surged in your chest. You were out of ammo.
Before you could react, the guard lunged forward, and with brutal precision, he slammed the barrel of his gun into your face. The impact was jarring, sending you stumbling back, your vision spinning and your body fighting to stay upright. Blood poured from your nose, warm and thick, but you had no strength left to retaliate. The world blurred as your knees gave way beneath you, and you collapsed to the floor, the darkness swallowing you whole.
The last thing you heard was the guard’s voice, distant and cold, as he spoke into his radio: “I have Player 132.”
And then, the world went silent.
“Good.” In-ho’s voice replied, “bring her to where I am.”
As Jung-bae and Gi-hun knelt with their arms behind their heads, In-ho, wearing his uniform, walked down to greet them.
“Player 456,” he said, voice masked. “Did you have fun playing hero?”
Gi-hun looked up at the familiar voice, anger flashing across his face. Before he could respond, he watched as his enemy gestured to the black-clad guard to step forward. As the guard approached, both Jung-bae and Gi-hun’s eyes went wide. In the guard's hands was you, battered and bruised, unconscious and lifeless. Blood soaked your clothes, and your head hung limply. The guard dropped you unceremoniously to the ground. Your body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and they couldn’t look any longer, their hearts shattering at the sight. Despite only meeting each other for a short period of time, you had felt like a little sister to them, someone who had always been there, and now you were being discarded as though you meant nothing.
In-ho, unfazed, pulled out his Deagle and aimed it at your motionless body. A surge of anger flooded Gi-hun, but he was too late to stop what was happening. He had helped you through so much, and now, despite everything, he couldn’t even protect you.
“Look closely,” In-ho’s voice cut through the silence, “at the consequences of your little hero game.” Before turning the gun towards Jung-bae.
Jung-bae, his face pale with fear, barely managed to speak, his voice trembling, “Gi-hun—”
A loud bang echoed through the room, and Jung-bae’s body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, blood pooling around him.
“No!” Gi-hun screamed, unable to contain his grief. He scrambled over to Jung-bae’s body, pulling him close. His eyes then flicked to yours, and he rushed to hold you too, calling out your name in agony. “No, please...”
He tried to charge toward the masked man, his anger and desperation overpowering him, but the guards quickly tackled him, pinning him down. The sound of his cries filled the room, but none of the guards moved to stop it. He wept for both you and Jung-bae, unable to process the loss.
In-ho stood watching with cold indifference, finding satisfaction in Gi-hun’s torment. With a simple gesture of his hand, he commanded the guards to knock Gi-hun out. As the guards subdued him, In-ho turned his attention to the aftermath.
“Clean up this mess,” he ordered. The guards began clearing away the bodies, but when they reached for you, In-ho stopped them. “Leave her be.”
Once the area was cleared, In-ho instructed everyone to leave, and the guards filed out. Alone in hallway, he looked down at your peaceful face, his expression softening for a moment. He removed his glove and gently wiped the blood from your cheek.
The action seemed to rouse something in you, as your eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, you blinked, taking in the unfamiliar sight of black shoes in front of you. Your senses kicked in immediately, and with quick reflexes, you grabbed the revolver hidden beneath your shirt and aimed it at the figure in front of you.
Your finger squeezed the trigger, but instead of the expected thud of a body dropping, you heard the sharp crack of shattering glass. The CCTV camera behind the masked figure had been destroyed. The sound echoed, and for a brief moment, everything paused.
In-ho didn’t flinch. His gaze never left you, cold and unwavering. You, on the other hand, stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. The gun in your hand felt foreign, heavy. The glass that scattered across the floor seemed to mock you—your aim had been off. You hadn’t meant to miss. But what had you really aimed for? The camera? Or something else?
His posture remained unchanged. Silent. Watching. Calculating. He didn’t seem angry or pleased. He was just... waiting.
The silence pressed down on you, suffocating. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked between the broken camera and him. You weren’t sure what you expected—more movement, an immediate response, or maybe... nothing at all. The question lingered in the air, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it. You were waiting, too. Waiting for the next move.
Your body tensed. Was this the end? After all this was the enemy Gi-hun told you about. Every thought in your head felt like it was colliding, spinning in a storm. Taking a step back, your body reacts before your mind could catch up. What was he going to do? Was he still going to kill you?
Suddenly, the words you hadn’t even realized you were thinking slipped out, barely a whisper. “W-what do you want?” The sound of your voice startled you, hoarse and raw from everything leading up to this point.
“Answer me!”
He didn’t answer, he simply extended his arm, his palm open. A gesture. A question. It felt like he was waiting for something more than just your answer—maybe a reaction, maybe a choice. But you didn’t know if there was even one left to make.
The silence stretched out, thick and heavy. Your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else. And then, for the briefest of moments, everything cleared. A strange, unsettling calm swept over you. The fear, the anxiety—it all faded, replaced by something deeper, darker. You were done running. Done fighting. It was all too much.
Without thinking, your hand lowered, the revolver slipping from the aim you had kept steady for so long. Slowly, almost in slow motion, you brought the gun to your temple. Your breath hitched, shallow and ragged, but the world around you felt distant, quieter.
It wasn’t a decision. It was a release. A way to escape all of it.
But just as you gathered the strength to pull the trigger, you heard a slight sound. The faintest of movements. The sound of unclasping. You blinked, dazed, as something shifted in the air.
His hand lowered.
And then, with slow, deliberate motion, he removed his mask.
Your heart stopped.
For a moment, everything else ceased to exist. The room, the tension, the gun still pressed against your temple—everything blurred. The world shifted.
You stared at him, unable to process what you were seeing. The face that had once been a stranger now felt... familiar. But it wasn’t supposed to be him. It couldn’t be. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same one who had fought beside you, who had once shared your vision, your cause. No, this wasn’t him.
And yet... it was.
"...Young-il?"
The name escaped your lips like a memory you weren’t sure you wanted to reclaim. He didn’t answer. He just raised his hand again, his gesture the same, his eyes locked on yours.
It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation.
You stared at his outstretched hand, the choice heavy in the air. The revolver trembled in your grip.
i would’ve fucked so hard as a court jester in ye olde i would’ve jangled my balls and done a little dance and sang my silly tunes i’d be so good at my job. alas i have to be on tumblr instead which is like a poor imitation of it
when the amazing devil said "i've held your hand since 1979" and "i chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked" and "you stole the best years of my life (i'll give them back)" and "you're the thigh-high hemline i just can't stop staring at" and when they said "your eyes aren't rivers there to weep but a place for crows to rest their feet"
and when the amazing devil said "she sang 'do you think i'm sexy?' and oh god i really did" and "you're not flawed, darling, you're just a little under-rehearsed" and "i've loved you for a hundred years (certainly fucking feels like it)" and when they said "and now, even though you're mad and these memories won't stay, that's okay, cause now i get to meet you for the first time every single day"
They arrived at the cavern in the middle of the forest a day later. If y/n had not brought them here, they surely would have missed it entirely. The entrance was just high enough to walk upright and overgrown with so much green it even paled the jungle surrounding them. Stairs that were carved directly into the rock lead downwards into the darkness.
“This is it.” said y/n and stopped at the entrance.”You should find what you're looking for down there.”
Jaskier looked up at her and noticed the tension in her behaviour. “You're not coming with us?” he asked and she pulled her gaze away from the entrance and over to Jaskier.
“No, I can't go in there.” she said, holding his gaze. “I…I just…”
“It's fine.” He answered, watching her for a moment before he said, “you don't need to.”
“I will wait for you out here,” she said and Geralt saw Jaskier’s face twitch with hurt before the bard answered, “We’ll see”.
Yennifer pulled up her brows, but the Witcher just shook his head and followed the bard inside.
***
They went down the stairs and arrived at what seemed to have been enormous stone doors for an even bigger room. The doors were shattered and the debris was scattered over the floor. The room behind was illuminated by a small opening at the very top. The walls were smooth stone, which were carved with hundreds of ornaments.
And right in the middle of the room there was a gigantic throne carved out of a single piece of stone.
“That must be it.” Yennifer said amazed and walked over to the throne stroking a hand over it. “But how is this going to help us? It doesn't seem to have any magic in it.”
“What did the mage say again?” Ciri asked and Geralt answered, “He said, the empty throne will help you to a power which will aid you in your fight.” The Witcher was still watching the carvings in the stone as he recognized a pattern. “But I don’t think it's about the throne.”
Yennifer and Jaskier joined him and he pointed at the wall. “These aren't just ornaments. These are words in an ancient language. It looks like it's the story of someone who had been trapped down here.”
“You can read this?” Jaskier asked and Geralt shook his head.
“Just fragments, it's very old,” he answered.
“It's an old elven language,” Yennifer said and the two men looked over to her. Her fingertips were brushing over the stone carefully. “But I can't read it either. I just saw something like this some time ago.'' She kept watching as Jaskier walked over to the entrance but Geralt kept his eyes on Yennifer.
“Is there something else?” he asked the witch.
“It just does sound familiar. Do you know the old tale about the lost elven queen?”
The Witcher raised a brow, “you mean the fairy tale? Why do you think it has something to do with this?”
“I heard a version of the story once in which the queen was trapped by a mage a thousand years ago. The story spoke of a tomb and I assumed they meant he killed her but…the ancient elven language, the throne in the middle and the crushed stone doors as if someone broke out?” she looked at the Witcher who waited for her to continue.
“And if she broke out of here after a thousand years of solitude…” Jaskier spoke up. He was standing by the shattered door, a fragment of stone in his hands, eyes fixed on the broken piece. “...how big is the chance for her to be afraid to go near this cave or at least refuse to enter it again.” He looked at Geralt who took the stone out of Jaskiers hand and then let out a breathed “Fuck” after he too saw the bloody scratch marks on the surface of the stone as if someone had tried to claw their way out.
Geralt turned back to Yennifer who looked at the stone, “a thousand years, alone trapped in this place.” she whispered. “And we made her come back here.”
“Jask-” the witch started but Ciri interrupted her. “He is already gone.” she said and looked at Geralt. “Did Jaskier tell you what is going on with him and y/n?”
The Witcher let out a sigh and started to tell them what the bard had told him the day before.
***
Jaskier had run up the stairs as fast as he could, praying to all the gods he could think of that she was still outside of the cave. Panting he reached the entrance, his eyes scanning the place where he had left her. For a second he couldn't find anyone there and his heart sank but then his eyes found her sitting on a boulder, her back to the cave, legs pulled up against her chest. She looked so utterly lost that his heart broke a little more for her.
“Y/n!” he called and her head snapped up at the sound. She stood up from the sound and turned towards the bard.
“Did something happen? Are you hurt?” she asked worry showing in her eyes and Jaskier wanted to kiss her so badly.
“Is it true?” He asked, trying to catch his breath, “were you the one trapped down there for a thousand years?”
Y/n’s shoulders slumped and her head turned to avoid Jaskiers intense gaze. “There was once a version of me who was trapped down there but…I don't know who that person was anymore.” She whispered.
Jaskier took another step towards her and then stopped. “So it's true then? You are the lost queen from the fairy tale?”
She looked over to the forest as if she needed to think. “Queen, that word has been ringing in my head for a while now but I don't think I could be considered a queen anymore.” she laughed bitterly looking at the bard. “I have almost no power left and no elf can even remember me anymore. Until a year ago my mind was so scrambled that I could barely remember my own name.”
He took another step, the urge to pull her into his arms to never let go again was unimaginable. “Is that why you left me there?” He asked, his voice raspy.
“I wanted nothing more than to stay with you.” she said her eyes wet and voice low. “When I awoke the morning after, it was like a dam was breaking in my head. Every memory came back to me. All at once. I could suddenly remember things about my past…about what happened to me and it was too much. I was cursed, Jaskier. Cursed to be alone for the rest of my days and I was so scared that it was going to affect you if I stayed.”
“You could have told me that and let me make my own choice,” he answered.
They were staring at each other, not sure what to say next as Geralt, Yennifer and Ciri came back out of the cave.
“We are pretty sure that your curse was broken that day.” Yennifer told her.
“What?”
“Your memories suddenly returned, you said. I think this was the sign your curse was broken.” Yen said. “If I understand this curse correctly it was used to keep you lonely and what is more lonely than losing the memory of the people you love?”
“But I thought there was nothing that could break it? Not even as I managed to escape this prison was I able to end it. Why at this moment?” Y/n asked and Yennifer smirked at her.
“There is one thing that can break even the strongest curse you know.” The witch said. “And you somehow manage to find it at such a very strange place.”
Y/n´s cheeks reddened as the realisation hit her but Jaskier just looked puzzled. “What do you mean? What Is strong enough to lift a thousand year old curse?” he asked, obviously oblivious.
Geralt walked over to the bard and put a hand on his shoulder. “Probably moonlight and river water.” the Witcher said, smirking and Jaskier nodded understandingly.
“That sounds rather easy doesn't it?” he added and Yennifer rolled her eyes before she said, “As I said, such a strange place.”
***
“It looks like we're back at square one now, what are we going to do now?” Jaskier asked as they all sat by a fire they made in the forest away from the cave.
“I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment to you.” Y/n snapped at the bard, instantly regretting the harsh tone.
“That was absolutely not what I meant by that.” Jaskier said, defending himself. “And you know it.” The air between the two had green tense on the last day and y/n didn't knew how to fix it. The realisation of how her curse was broken still lingered fresh in her mind.
true love…
It couldn't be the reason, could it? Maybe it had been but probably only from her side. She couldn't imagine that he had fallen for her after days and weeks of banter and teasing. She had made his life unnecessarily hard back then and she was still sorry for it.
“Do you think there is a way to get back the rest of my magic?” she asked, turning to Yennifer who was still in deep thoughts. The Witch raised her head, a smirk on her face and answered, “you could try jumping in the same river as back then.”
Y/n could feel the heat creep up into her cheeks at the hidden suggestion and she shook her head. “No, that is not an option.”
“I don't think it will work, there is no curse anymore her magic must be dampened by something else.” Geralt said and y/n was thankful for the help. “The best option would probably be to find out what it is that is holding you back. Sometimes emotions can interfere with magic as well as a curse. Some emotions are strong, fear, hate or guilt. He said looking at her at the last word and she stared back at him knowing exactly what he meant.
The thing was, she felt guilty for so many things she had no idea where to start.
“If there is something you feel guilty about, maybe you could try and forgive yourself. It could help you get back a part of your magic.” Yennifer said and y/n let out a sarcastic laugh. “You have no idea what you're talking about. There is no forgiveness for me.”
“You can tell us. Maybe we can help you.” Ciri said after silently following the whole argument. Y/n turned to the princess not able to be angry at her she said, “There is no use, princess. I'm the reason my whole kingdom crumbled and most of my people suffered for a thousand years. There is no forgiveness for me.”
***
After they returned from the forest they decided to part ways the next day. Y/n had brought them to the place they had searched for but it had not aided them in their search for a power to help them. She had feared that they would be disappointed and even if they did not say anything like that, she still felt as if she had again failed the people who needed her help.
That night she had decided to drown her sorrows in the smallest tavern she could find and continue her disappointing life the next day. Unfortunately for her, Jaskier and his friends were not willing to give up so easily. She had not taken more than one sip from her first ale when the door to the tavern swung open and they all (except Ciri) walked in and took the empty chairs at her table as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“So what are our next steps?” Jaskier asked and y/n watched them over her cup.
“We still need to find a way to get y/n powers back and then we see what will happen next.” Yennifer answered. “There are some things I learned in Aretuza to trigger blocked magic inside someone, maybe something will work.”
“Sorry but what are you talking about?” Y/n asked, confused watching them one after another.
“What do you mean?” Yennifer asked honestly confused, “We are trying to get you back what you lost and make sure the remnants of the curse are gone completely. I thought it was clear that this will be our next step?”
Y/n put her cup back on the table still trying to comprehend the effort they wanted to put into her obviously lost cause. “I don't think you should waste your time with me, I cannot help anyone anymore. Maybe I never could.” She whispered the last part before she took another sip from her cup.
“I think that's where you are wrong. I think you have a lot of potential still in you if you just would let me help-” Yennifer started but y/n stopped her. “I think you're betting on the wrong horse here, Yennifer. Just leave it be and go search for help somewhere else.” Y/n emptied her cup and got up from the table, she could not hear another word from the witch. “Just leave me alone and search for your help elsewhere.” And so she got up and left the tavern without looking back at them. So much for a quiet night with self pity and alcohol.
***
She had walked the streets of the city for a while, blinking away her tears again and again hoping that they had left the tavern when she got back. Unfortunately she had no luck tonight because as she neared the tavern again, she saw a familiar shape waiting beside the front door.
Jaskier looked up as he heard the footsteps coming towards the tavern and he suddenly was very nervous. A feeling he did not feel often.
“They wanted to look for you but I told them you would be back.” He said as she stopped in front of him.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Well, I wished you would and just hoped it would be enough this time.” The sliver of disappointment in his voice stung deep in her chest and she had to look away.
“The things Yennifer expects of me, I…I don't think I can live up to them. She thinks I have this huge power and all it takes is for me to trigger it and everyone's problems will be gone but…I can't even fight my own demons yet alone those of others. I'm just a thing out of some old fairy tales, a relic that was supposed to be dead for centuries. There is nothing I can do.”
Jaskier did not answer for a moment, a circumstance she did not see often with him, but then he said, “But there is the thing, y/n. You're not dead, you are here, you live and breathe and still you think you have no right to. What does it matter if you have no power or never will again. Look at me, I should have died a lot of times.” He drew out the last part and your lips twitched which made the corner of his mouth do the same. “And I'm here and as long as I am I will do what I can to support my friends and the people I love.”
“But I have no one.” she whispered and his heart sank for her.
“That's not true, and even if it were, you could still fight for yourself. But you have me and now probably Yennifer and Ciri and Geralt. Even if they don’t show it, they're not going to give up on you like this.”
Her eyes had started to burn and she needed to bite down on her lip to stop herself from crying. “Why are you still so kind to me?”
His eyes softened and he stepped closer to her and reached out to pull her into his arms, “Because you mean too much to me.”
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?
A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)
Word Count: 3.0K
How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march? It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s.
What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep.
So why did you feel so guilty?
Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face.
With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.
A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.
“The door is open, darling.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance.
With a breath, you opened the door.
Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window.
Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun.
For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself.
Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed.
Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.
“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked.
Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing.
You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second.
Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”
You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”
He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show.
Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign.
Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now.
He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours.
“That was…quite a performance,” he said.
You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell.
“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly.
He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”
His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist.
A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.
“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued.
You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere.
“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”
You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it.
“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them.
He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm.
“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.”
Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”
“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek.
Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause.
“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”
Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”
“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”
The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”
“Then allow me to show you.”
Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.
It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay.
You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.
He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction.
You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing.
Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.
You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was.
A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you.
His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you.
Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.
His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw.
“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.”
His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally.
This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before.
His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt.
The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different?
“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself.
To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry. Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.”
His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away.
Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.
With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.
“I’m sorry,” you managed.
“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.”
Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”
His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features.
“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly.
The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”
“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.”
You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.”
He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”
“No.”
“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush.
“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.”
“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted.
“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.”
You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.
To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know.
You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now.
“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”
He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”
You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”
He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”
You shrugged.
“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly.
“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”
He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line.
“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”
“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”
You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked.
“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.”
You took a breath, willing yourself to calm.
“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.”
He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time.
“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?”
You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow.
“What?” he prompted, sharply.
You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
He gave you an incredulous look.
Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand.
He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded.
You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes.
“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”
He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.
“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”
“You don’t?”
You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”
“That’s not true,” he said quickly.
You gave him a doubtful look.
He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”
“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.”
You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself.
You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”
Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.
A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true.
You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment.
“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.”
You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer.
You didn’t reach for it, not this time. It already burned too much.
Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.
