The air in the arena was thick with tension, buzzing with the hushed whispers of competitors.

The atmosphere was stifling, a weight pressing down on Y/N and her team—Se-mi, Thanos, Min-su, and Namgyu—as they stood in rigid formation at the starting line of the six-legged race. Each of their legs was bound together with coarse rope, forcing them into an unnatural synchronization.

Y/N stood between Thanos and Se-mi, feeling the warmth of their bodies pressed against her own, their shared determination solidifying their resolve. The knot in her stomach tightened, but she shoved down the fear. There was no room for hesitation.

Her gaze flickered instinctively toward the stands, scanning until she found them—Gi-hun and In-ho. The two men stood still, their worry palpable even from this distance. Gi-hun's brow was deeply furrowed, lips slightly parted as if he wanted to call out to her, to warn her to be careful.

In-ho, ever the stoic, had his arms crossed, his cold demeanor betraying just the faintest hint of concern in the slight furrow between his brows. Y/N swallowed hard and, with a barely perceptible nod, silently reassured them. She could do this. They would make it through.

A sharp gunshot rang through the air, a deafening signal that sent a jolt through Y/N's body. Her muscles tensed, but instinct took over.

"One, two. One, two," the team chanted in unison, their voices steady despite the chaos swelling inside them. Their steps thundered against the hard ground as they surged forward, their limbs bound but moving as one. Y/N's pulse pounded in her ears, matching the rhythmic cadence of their chant. Every step brought them closer to the next trial.

The ddakji round.

Y/N's stomach twisted as she realized her turn had arrived. The soldier ahead of them, expression unreadable beneath his black mask, silently dropped the folded square of paper onto the ground. It landed with a soft thwap, lying there like a challenge. Y/N clenched her fists.

"Go. Get it," Namgyu urged, his tone sharp, his impatience barely concealed.

"All right, throw it hard," Thanos added, his voice firm.

Y/N stepped forward, inhaling deeply. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her ddakji, the paper's stiff folds pressing into her palm. Se-mi, sensing her hesitation, leaned in slightly.

"You've got this," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet confidence.

Y/N shut her eyes for a brief moment, memories of Chan-yeol's technique flashing behind her lids. The angle of his wrist, the precise flick, the sheer force behind it—it had to be perfect. She couldn't afford to mess this up.

She exhaled and snapped her wrist downward, slamming the ddakji against the ground.

CRACK!

The impact sent the opponent's ddakji flipping into the air, twisting in slow motion before landing squarely on its back.

A beat of silence.

Then—cheers.

"Pass," the woman on the PA system announced, her voice mechanical and devoid of emotion.

"Yes! All right!" Thanos whooped, punching the air in victory.

"Ready, go!" Y/N called, relief seeping into her tone. But there was no time to relax. They had more to do.

They pushed forward toward the next challenge—Flying Stone.

Min-su's turn. The smaller man's hands were shaking visibly as he picked up the smooth rock, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Take your time," Y/N said gently, though the ticking clock behind them screamed otherwise.

Min-su bit his lip and hurled the stone forward. It barely made it halfway.

Namgyu groaned audibly, his patience fraying.

"Are you serious?" he hissed, rubbing his temples.

The team hurried to retrieve the stone and return to their position. Min-su's face burned with shame, but he squared his shoulders and took another deep breath. His fingers gripped the stone tightly, his knuckles turning white as he threw it again.

This time, the stone sailed farther, landing in the target zone with a satisfying thunk.

A collective sigh of relief passed through the team before they marched forward once more.

The Gonggi table loomed ahead. They crouched as Se-mi prepared herself. Y/N's eyes darted to the clock—three minutes left.

Se-mi's movements were fluid, precise. She tossed the pieces into the air, catching them with ease. One. Two. Three. Four. Then—she hesitated.

Y/N reached out, her hand firm on Se-mi's shoulder. Their eyes met. "You can do this," she whispered.

Se-mi nodded slowly, inhaled deeply, and flicked her wrist. The final piece flipped through the air, falling into her open palm.

A grin broke across Y/N's face as she shook Se-mi's shoulders in sheer delight.

"Yes!"

"Move!" Thanos barked. The team snapped back into action, marching toward the Spinning Top.

Namgyu stepped up, confidence radiating off him. With a single flick, his top spun perfectly, its balance unwavering.

Y/N's chest swelled with hope. They were almost there.

The final game—Jegi.

Thanos took a moment to steady himself. The shuttlecock rested at his feet, taunting him. With a deep breath, he nudged it upward, his foot connecting with flawless precision.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Each kick was effortless, smooth. When the last one landed, Namgyu let out a whoop of triumph.

"This is it!" Se-mi shouted as they surged forward, their feet thundering against the floor. The finish line was within reach.

Y/N's heart pounded as they crossed.

A weight lifted from her chest, a newfound freedom washing over her.

"We did it! Well done!" Se-mi's voice rang out, filled with exhilaration.

Y/N turned, her gaze immediately seeking Gi-hun and In-ho. Relief filled her as she met their eyes—both men looked significantly less worried, their features softening.

Gi-hun gave her a small, proud smile. In-ho, ever reserved, offered a single nod.

Y/N let out a shaky breath. They had made it.

For now

______________

Y/N sat in the dimly lit area beside Se-mi, her legs curled beneath her as she anxiously watched the door. Her fingers drummed against her knee, restless, her mind spinning with thoughts she couldn't silence.

She needed Gi-hun to make it back. She needed In-ho to make it back. But what if they didn't? What if Gi-hun—who had taken care of her, who had protected her—was lost in the games?

And then there was In-ho.

Y/N knew she had to bring him back to Jun-ho, but how could she possibly do that if he didn't survive? Then again, did the Front Man even have the ability to die? He wasn't like the rest of them, was he? He was something different. Untouchable.

She swallowed hard, her jaw tightening. The thought of losing either of them was unbearable, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now except wait.

Beside her, Se-mi sat in comfortable silence, not interrupting Y/N's thoughts. Instead, she too watched the door, as if her quiet presence alone could bring them back safely. There was a warmth to it, a quiet understanding that made Y/N grateful.

A few feet away, Thanos, Namgyu, and Min-su sat huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. It was a strange group, thrown together by necessity.

They had worked well as a team, but now that the game was over, Y/N wasn't sure she cared to be associated with them any longer. She'd take Se-mi with her if she could, but it was best to leave Thanos and his fanboys to themselves.

"Fuck, way too many people made it," Namgyu muttered, his voice laced with annoyance.

Y/N turned her head slightly, just enough to hear their conversation without fully engaging.

"Hey," Namgyu nudged Min-su, trying to catch his attention. "How many do you think are left?"

"Sorry?" Min-su asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"How many roaches do you think we have left in here?" Namgyu rephrased, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

Min-su blinked, his brows knitting together. "About 200."

Namgyu let out a sharp laugh. "How do you know? What are you, an AI bot? Go count them."

Min-su hesitated. "Now?"

Namgyu grinned and nodded.

"Oh, okay." Min-su stood up shakily, his uncertainty clear in every movement.

Y/N clenched her fists. She had seen this kind of dynamic before—Namgyu enjoyed pushing Min-su around, making him do things just for the sake of it. And Min-su, for whatever reason, went along with it.

"Why do you want to count them? Are you stupid?" Se-mi finally cut in, turning toward the boys with an unimpressed look. "The masked men will tell us soon."

Namgyu barely spared her a glance before sneering, "Shut up, bitch."

Y/N immediately sat up, but before she could snap at him, Thanos beat her to it.

"Stop it," Thanos said firmly, his voice carrying an edge of warning. Se-mi's mouth was set in a hard line, but she didn't respond.

Thanos turned his attention to Min-su, his expression unreadable. "What's your name again?"

"It's Min-su."

"How old are you?" Thanos continued.

"I'm 27."

"So you were born in 1997?" Thanos clarified, his tone lighter now. "Then why do you treat him like he's your boss? You're the same age. Namgyu, isn't that right?"

"Yes," Namgyu admitted begrudgingly, crossing his arms.

"You're the same age. Treat him like a friend. We'll work better as a team that way, okay?" Thanos instructed, his voice softer now.

Min-su hesitated but nodded.

Thanos shifted his attention to Se-mi. "How old are you?"

"Born in 1996," she responded easily.

Y/N blinked in surprise. She had assumed Se-mi was the same age as her. Before she could ask, Thanos turned to her.

"And you?"

"Born in 1998," Y/N answered without thinking.

Thanos smirked, stretching out his arms behind him lazily. "It's settled then. Y/N is the youngest, you two are the same age, and Se-mi's older. Hey, call her noona since she's older."

Namgyu rolled his eyes but let out an amused huff. "Yeah, right."

"Do it," Thanos insisted.

Namgyu groaned, muttering under his breath before turning to Se-mi. "Noona."

Se-mi burst out laughing, her annoyance melting away in an instant. Even Y/N couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips, despite the lingering anxiety pressing down on her. For a fleeting moment, the weight of the games felt a little lighter.

But just as quickly as it came, reality crept back in.

The door remained shut, and Gi-hun was still nowhere to be seen.

Y/N turned back toward the entrance, her smile fading as she swallowed down her unease. All she could do was wait.

Just then, the door creaked open. Y/N's heart leaped into her throat as she turned sharply.

Gi-hun stepped through, his face weary but victorious. Behind him, his team followed—Jung-bae looked relieved, Dae-ho's face split into a grin, and Jun-hee, though visibly exhausted, met Y/N's gaze and smiled in thanks. And then, finally, In-ho appeared. There was even the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. He met Y/N's eyes and gave her a subtle nod.

"What? We have more survivors?" Namgyu groaned near Y/N.

"It's that nutjob's team," Thanos added, shaking his head.

"Goddammit. There's going to be a big drop in the prize money they add," Namgyu grumbled.

Y/N and Se-mi turned toward him, identical glares cutting through his complaints.

Without another word, Y/N stood, dusting herself off. She had made her decision.

"I'm going to sit with them," she said, nodding toward Gi-hun's team.

Se-mi hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know... I don't really know them."

"Oh, come on," Y/N nudged her playfully. "I'll protect you if one of them tries to steal your food ration."

Se-mi rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"They're fun," Y/N mused, tilting her head toward Jun-hee. "Besides, you don't want to be stuck listening to Namgyu whining all night, do you?"

That was enough. Se-mi exhaled and stood up, shaking her head with a small smile. "Fine. But if they're weird, I'm blaming you."

"I'll take full responsibility," Y/N grinned, looping her arm through Se-mi's as they walked over.

As they settled in with Gi-hun and his team, the air shifted slightly, warmer somehow. And then, without a word, In-ho walked up to the group, his presence quiet but undeniable.

The dim light flickered overhead, casting long, wavering shadows over the group. The tension from the earlier games had begun to settle, though the air was still thick with unspoken words and unhealed wounds.

In-ho exhaled softly, his gaze lowered, his usual sharp demeanor softened into something almost regretful.

"I'm sorry about earlier, everyone," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow, watching him with a quiet curiosity. Apologies were rare from him.

"No, it's okay," Dae-ho offered, his voice steady and kind.

"Don't be," Gi-hun said, shaking his head. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick. I'm just glad everyone is okay." His eyes flickered briefly to Y/n, a silent acknowledgement passing between them.

"Player 222, are you feeling all right?" In-ho asked, turning to Jun-hee.

"Yes," she smiled. "Thank you all for including me on your team."

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try—just like you," Jung-bae grinned, glancing between Jun-hee and Y/n.

"That was impressive," Dae-ho agreed. "She did great, even while carrying a baby."

"We were lucky she joined our team," Jung-bae added with a chuckle. "Even if it did cost you."

"All's well that ends well," Y/n said simply, though her voice carried an edge of something deeper—perhaps exhaustion, perhaps understanding.

Dae-ho turned back to Jung-bae, eyes alight with excitement. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot. With an underhand pitch, at that! Bam! You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

The two of them laughed, their brief moment of levity offering a rare relief.

"And you?" Jung-bae asked, grinning at Dae-ho. "Was Gonggi the only game you ever played? I could barely see your hand—it was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" Jung-bae teased.

"My father's idea," Dae-ho admitted, his expression tightening. "He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"Wow. He sounds like a great man."

"Yeah..." Dae-ho's voice dropped, his usual warmth replaced by something distant.

"Was he a Marine too?"

At that, Dae-ho seemed to shrink under their gazes, his fingers curling slightly as he looked away.

"Yeah, well... Would you excuse me for a moment?" he muttered, stepping away from the group.

An uneasy silence settled between them until In-ho cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should learn each other's names," he suggested, his tone almost kind.

Dae-ho, still lingering in the shadows, glanced over. "I still don't know your names, gentlemen. Or yours, Miss," he said, nodding toward Y/n. "I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big,' 'ho' means 'tiger.'"

Jung-bae let out an appreciative whistle. "Big Tiger, huh? Cool name." He straightened up. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice.' My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

Laughter rippled through the group, but when the attention turned to Jun-hee, she hesitated. "My name is Kim Jun-hee. I... don't know what it means, though."

Y/n, who had been lost in thought, finally spoke, her voice softer now. "Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away."

The warmth in her words contrasted the harsh reality they all lived in.

In-ho nodded in agreement. "You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

Jun-hee swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

Now, all eyes were on In-ho. Y/n knew he wouldn't use his real name—she had known that long before he opened his mouth. But still, she was curious what lie he'd spin this time.

"I'm Oh Young-il," In-ho said simply.

"Young-il?" Jung-bae repeated.

"Yes. 'Young-il' sounds like 'zero one,' and that's my number. Easy to remember."

"Right," Y/n said dryly, her lips twitching as she crossed her arms. "So your name is your number."

He ignored her comment, but she saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes before he masked it away.

Then it was her turn.

She hesitated for a second longer than she intended, before inhaling. "My name is Shin A-Yeong," she said. "I think Shin means genuine and A-Yeong means refined grace. It's meant to signify delicate, elegant beauty... but I always thought it was too elaborate. So I go by Y/n. It's much simpler."

She paused, the name tasting bittersweet on her tongue. She had gone by Y/n for years now—ever since they were young. Ever since he was the only one who had ever called her that.

She could still hear his voice, the way he would murmur her name in the quiet moments between their chaotic, stolen days. How he had whispered it like a secret, a promise, something sacred.

Her heart ached.

She knew that man—she knew Jun-ho better than she knew herself. Every movement, every breath, every slight hesitation in his voice. And as much as it hurt her, she could almost feel his desperation.

She clenched her fists for a moment, shaking the thoughts away. She had to focus.

Se-mi had begun to introduce herself, and Y/n forced herself to listen, though her mind was still reeling.

"Oh, Gi-hun," In-ho said suddenly, his attention shifting. "What's your last name?"

Gi-hun blinked, seemingly caught off guard. "My name is Seong Gi-hun."

A smirk tugged at In-ho's lips. "I see. 'Seong' literally means 'last name.'"

He laughed, as if it was some grand joke only he understood.

Y/n narrowed her eyes, watching him carefully. It wasn't like him to laugh so freely—not unless he was hiding something.

And she knew him too well to believe otherwise.