Chapter Text
There’s a man at Gi-hun’s usual lookout spot. Standing by the railing, in the pouring rain, overlooking the city with his back turned to the road. Gi-hun’s car’s headlights hit first the wall of the small building, then the figure. There’s no visible reaction to Gi-hun killing the car engine and parking right behind him.
The man isn't suspicious, per se – he’s dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, with the hood pulled up to gather some of the water. He has his hands in his pockets, and he’s doing nothing to indicate he’s a threat. Still, instinctively, Gi-hun checks for the pistol in his glove compartment, moves to lay the gun on the passenger seat, loosely covering the grip of it with his right hand.
He must be cold, Gi-hun thinks fleetingly, and then focuses on the groupchat pulled up in multiple phone screens in front of him. He’s got better things to worry about than a random man standing in the rain.
The search party is starting to lose interest in sending selfies from their appointed metro stations, less smiles and more tired eyes with frowns on their faces. Gi-hun knows the men don’t believe him – he knows they are doing it just for the money, and he doesn’t expect them to express cheer and joy searching for what they believe is a made up man playing a game of Ddakji with strangers.
He sits behind his wheel in the rain, just like every day, and smokes. Watches as the search party sends in their selfies into the groupchat. Reads the messages coming in.
His eyes focus back on the man only when there’s movement. He seems to be slowly walking towards the edge, where Gi-hun knows he’ll be met with a huge drop. The man’s shoulders are shaking, like he’s crying.
That sends Gi-hun moving. He takes one look at the gun, leaves it laying on the seat and opens his car door to get hit by the pouring water.
“Hey!” Gi-hun calls for the man. “Hey, sir!”
The man whirls around in surprise. He’s clearly not been expecting for Gi-hun, or for anyone, to call for him. Gi-hun wonders if he’s even noticed another person there, quite like Gi-hun forgot about him, as well.
What surprises Gi-hun in return is that the man isn’t crying – he’s laughing, like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the universe, while his eyes are sad and distant. The raindrops are hitting his cheekbones, reaching his open mouth or continuing down to his chin, from there to his neck.
He looks like a man with nothing to lose. Sharp edges around his face, deep-set eyes and a hairstyle that painfully reminds Gi-hun of Sang-woo.
“Are you alright?” Gi-hun asks, walking towards him with his hand reached out. “You should probably get off the edge.”
For a few moments, the man doesn’t make a move. He just stares at Gi-hun with an unreadable expression – then, he seems to digest Gi-hun’s words and steps from the ledge, two steps closer to Gi-hun and his car. Gi-hun lets out a breath of relief. A phone buzzes in Gi-hun’s pocket, indicating a new message. He’s inching to check it, but ignores it in favor of keeping an eye on the man.
“I–,” he starts, awkwardly. Gi-hun steps closer to hear his voice over the rain. “Thank you, mister –?”
“Gi-hun,” Gi-hun answers quickly, “Seong Gi-hun.”
“Thank you, Seong Gi-hun. I wasn’t sure what I was doing,” the man says, awkwardly waving towards the railing. He takes a few stumbling steps further from Gi-hun, and continues, “I must go. Thank you, again. Apologies for disturbing your,” he eyes the car, “sightseeing.”
With that, the man is off. Gi-hun continues to stare at his back as he walks away, mouth agape with wonder. It’s not until Gi-hun can’t see the man anymore, before he realizes he’s still standing in the rain and there’s a buzz of new selfies to look, and hops back inside his car. He checks everything is still in place, and then slumps against the seat.
–
Two days later, the man is back. It’s sunny and the skyline of the city feels more beautiful than ever. Gi-hun parks his car on his usual spot, and this time the man reacts, looks back towards Gi-hun, and then raises his hand in an embarrassed wave of a hello.
Gi-hun takes one look at the phone screens, and then decides step out of the car to join the stranger by the fence – not before placing his pistol in the back of his belt and hiding it with his hoodie. While the lookout spot isn’t unknown, and people have been coming and going, seeing the same stranger twice within a small period of time is suspicious enough for Gi-hun to take safety measures.
He walks to stand beside the man with a small nod of acknowledgement.
“I didn’t catch your name last time,” he starts carefully.
The stranger looks up to him. This time, there’s light behind his eyes and something resembling a smile on his lips. Gi-hun lets himself stare for a few seconds, before tucking his head to look at the ground.
“Oh Young-il,” the man introduces himself. Gi-hun returns his gaze to meet Oh Young-il’s eyes.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Gi-hun says. “Are you feeling better?”
Young-il looks rather mortified by the question, and Gi-hun regrets it immediately. He supposes it’s not something you’re supposed to mention. “Yes, thank you,” Young-il says after a short silence. “I must apologize for my actions, I could imagine that was rather disturbing to see.”
Gi-hun snorts dryly. “Believe me, I’ve seen more disturbing things.”
Young-il looks at him with curiosity. Behind his wide eyes, there’s something Gi-hun can’t quite grasp – maybe understanding, or pity. Gi-hun shrugs, then rolls his shoulders back and stares into the city. The man beside him is still, after a name, a stranger. He’s got no intention to spill his guts to an innocent man trying to find some company from another seemingly lonely.
“You come here often?” Young-il asks. Gi-hun can regocnize an attempt to lighten the mood when he hears one. Curiously, the attempt seems to be working, Gi-hun notices, as his lips curl up to a small smile.
“Daily,” he answers. Judging by the chuckle, Young-il seems to think Gi-hun is joking. He doesn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.
“Guess I’ll be seeing you a lot, then,” Young-il says. “I’ll be back in the city for a while.”
Gi-hun finds he doesn’t mind the thought.
–
“So, what brings you here? You spend most of your time in the car, and I can’t even begin to fathom what you’re doing there,” Young-il asks three days later. Gi-hun is leaning on the hood of his car, while Young-il is leaning on the wall of the small building. He’s staring at Gi-hun intensely.
Gi-hun isn’t sure what to say. The question is more loaded than Young-il can probably ever imagine.
“Work,” he answers promptly.
Young-il hums, looks around and stops to stare at Gi-hun’s car before meeting Gi-hun’s eyes again. Gi-hun gets the feeling that everything Young-il does is calculating, like he thinks about every action – even the rather shy smile he gives him next.
“I just think the view is amazing,” Young-il tells him, then, eyes glimmering. Gi-hun decides to give a small smile back, something new aching in his chest.
He supposes it’s been a while since he’s made a friend.
–
It becomes more of a norm, after that, finding Young-il overlooking the city. Almost every morning for two weeks, Gi-hun pulls up to Young-il’s turned back and spends less time looking at the multiple maps and phone screens and more time staring into Young-il’s eyes.
He finds out things about the man, that his wife’s death anniversary is nearing, that Young-il is tight on money after spending all of his earnings on treatment that didn’t end up working. He finds out that he’s visiting his brother after disappearing the city for years, trying to fix things that seem unfixable.
Gi-hun sympathizes. Young-il seems like a good man with a lot to carry, trying to become better.
Sometimes, Gi-hun could see hints of the Young-il he met the first time. Sometimes Young-il’s voice is humorless, his stance is slumped and his eyes refuse to meet Gi-hun’s. Those days, Gi-hun tells him about his less-painful memories. About his daughter, and the good memories he’d shared with Sang-woo in their youth.
It all feels very familiar. Something Gi-hun has been missing from his life.
–
“Are you always this naive?” Young-il asks him, when Gi-hun gives a stack of notes to the homeless man wandering around their spot. “Or just crazy rich?”
Gi-hun shrugs. “Maybe I’m both,” he says, trying to make it come out as a joke. It falls flat, and Young-il raises an eyebrow.
“You’re a mystery,” he says decisively, and Gi-hun decides to take it as a compliment. And when Young-il continues to say, “I’ll crack you one day,” Gi-hun knows it’s one.
–
“Who was he?” Young-il asks the next time Gi-hun mentions Sang-woo, and Gi-hun has to pause to think.
“He was a friend,” he ends up saying. “A good friend.”
Young-il tilts his head. “I thought –.” Gi-hun arches a questioning brow. “Never mind,” Young-il says, looking away.
Gi-hun can guess what Young-il had been about to say. He wouldn’t have corrected the assumption, either. The rest of the time they stand in silence until Young-il makes his leave and Gi-hun sits back behind his wheel. Yet another day with no luck finding the recruiter and the sky is filled with rain clouds.
Gi-hun lights a cigarette.
–
The shirt Young-il is wearing the next day is the exact same green as the tracksuits provided for them in the games. Gi-hun has to take a deep breath before joining him.
“Don’t you ever want to try a different view?” he asks instead of a hello.
Young-il shakes his head. “I know this one is the best.”
Gi-hun accepts the answer with a small nod. In many ways, he agrees.
“What, are you getting tired of me?” Young-il asks lightheartedly.
“No,” Gi-hun says with a soft smile. “Not at all.”
–
It’s pouring rain again. The selfies he’s getting from the search party show dripping wet hair, annoyed faces, and bystanders with umbrellas, wet metro floors and are accompanied by short and straight-to-the-point messages. Gi-hun takes his time driving to the lookout spot, and isn’t surprised to not see Young-il there – the view is rather depressing in weather like this.
Gi-hun’s getting tired. Even while being extremely determined, it’s been almost two months since they gathered more men and started searching every station daily. He’s not losing hope, not at all, he’s just getting tired. Frustrated. He knows he’ll succeed, waiting it out is just the worst part.
A knock on the passenger side window wakes Gi-hun up from his thoughts. It takes him less time to pull the gun out and point it towards the door, than look at the person waving at him through the wet glass. Gi-hun’s eyes focus on the figure and are met with a toothy smile on a familiar face.
Gi-hun looks from his gun to Young-il and back, and then with an embarrassed smile, he places the gun on the dashboard. Young-il’s smile has turned into a frown, but not a scared one – he seems more taken aback than worried. “Gi-hun!” he calls through the door and rain. “May I come in to sit with you?”
Gi-hun takes a look at the phone screens in front of him, then thinks, fuck it, and nods. He leans over to open the passenger side door as an invitation. He’s not going to make Young-il stand in the rain, and Gi-hun has to admit he’s grown rather fond of the man.
Young-il sits on the passenger seat and Gi-hun watches as he takes in the sight in front of him – the screens, as well as the gun on the dashboard. Young-il motions towards all of it, eyes comically large and then lets out an awkward chuckle and eventually sags against the passenger seat. “This feels like I should be scared for my life,” he jokes.
Gi-hun’s lips tug into an involuntary smile. “Unless you’re one of the people behind killing hundreds of innocent people with children’s games, you’re good.”
Young-il barks a laugh, then turns to Gi-hun. His smile drops when Gi-hun doesn’t laugh with him, and the mood in the car shifts. “Wait, you’re serious?”
Gi-hun shrugs.
“Killing hundreds of people with children’s games?” Young-il repeats in bewilderment.
“That’s what I said,” Gi-hun agrees gruffly.
Young-il seems to take it all in, then asks, “What was your job title again?”
Gi-hun doesn’t expect the almost instant acceptance – no one has heard him out the first time, everyone thinking he’s insane, losing his mind and making up things. The ache in his chest grows bigger.
“Self-employed,” Gi-hun decides on. “This is rather personal.”
Young-il nods, then frowns, looking at the groupchats and maps pulled out on the screens in front of them. “So wait, you’re what? Sitting in your car in hopes to destroy a… criminal organization? How are the selfies a part of this?”
Gi-hun should feel invaded by the questions, he shouldn’t be so willing to spill everything to the almost-stranger Young-il still is.
Of course, that’s not how Gi-hun operates.
“I’m searching,” he replies.
“For a person?” Young-il asks, then waves around them. “Isn’t this place a bit too high up for that?”
Gi-hun snorts. “No, a bird. Yes, a person.”
Young-il cracks a smile. “He knows how to joke!”
Gi-hun pushes him playfully, also smiling.
Young-il blinks at him, then, and with genuine interest in his tone asks, “Start from the beginning?”
Gi-hun considers it, then says, “I think that’s a story to be told over a soju, not here.”
Young-il, who had been looking out of the window, snaps his eyes on Gi-hun, his mouth slightly open. He rubs his neck inelegantly, and there’s that shyness again, Gi-hun notices. It’s not the first time Young-il’s gotten modest like that.
“That’s actually,” Young-il starts, then clears his throat, “kind of what I've wanted to talk to you about.”
“Soju?” It’s Gi-hun’s turn to be confused.
The smile returns on Young-il’s face, and he’s shaking his head almost fondly. “I was hoping to persuade you to,” he starts, frowns, corrects himself, “ask you, to meet me somewhere else, one of these days? Maybe grab a drink with me somewhere nice.”
Gi-hun stares at Young-il. Young-il stares back, hopeful. “You mean –,”
“A date, with me,” Young-il confirms, then hurries to continue, “Only if you’d like. If not, we can just grab soju while you tell me your story. I definitely want to hear it regardless.”
Gi-hun stares. His chest keeps aching, burning. He wonders, briefly, how he’s not been able to locate the reason for the aching before this moment – in hindsight, it’s quite obvious. It’s not a new feeling, either. He’s felt it with his ex-wife, with Sang-woo. He’s quite sure there’s even a name for it, but for now, he’ll call it fascination.
Young-il looks almost nervous. “Apologies, this was abrupt, I shouldn’t have—,”
“Sure,” Gi-hun finds his voice. “We can go on –,” he pauses, “on a date. Yeah.”
Young-il’s whole face lights up. “Really?”
Gi-hun nods, smiling.
A phone pings indicating of a new message, and the moment is broken. Gi-hun turns his focus on the groupchat, where a new selfie has been sent. Still, frustratingly, nothing – Young-il seems to notice the shift in the mood, but doesn’t take his eyes off Gi-hun. Gi-hun feels his neck burn, as he crosses over yet another station on that day’s list, and Young-il’s eyes don’t leave him as Gi-hun starts focusing on the search party, leaving them to sit in a comfortable silence.
–
They end up grabbing drinks at a bar Young-il recommends. It’s a tiny one, at a street corner, with privacy and ambient lighting. It’s very unofficial, nothing like Gi-hun is used to, but fits Young-il perfectly.
It’s rather easy, telling Young-il about everything he’s experienced. Not once does Young-il question his story, just listens intently with understanding eyes. Gi-hun tells him everything, from his past to Sang-woo sacrificing himself in front of him, to hiring men to search for the man he once met at a metro station to recruit him. Gi-hun spills his guts to the man in front of him, and gets every speck of faith and trust he’s needed to experience for years.
“It’s all quite,” Young-il is clearly trying to find the words, “brutal.”
Gi-hun shrugs, then nods. “That’s why I need to stop it.”
Young-il frowns, worry in his eyes. “It sounds quite impossible, Gi-hun, and dangerous. Are you sure that’s wise?”
Gi-hun nods. “I can’t let the games continue. All of those people are going to lose their lives if I don’t do something.”
Young-il takes his hand over the table. “You might lose yours, if you do.”
He’s not judging Gi-hun – that much is apparent. He’s just worried. No one has worried about Gi-hun in years. He squeezes the hand.
In return, Young-il talks about his past. About his late wife, about his childhood, never really having a father around. He talks about his brother, and his stepmom – how he’s proud of where both of them have gotten while he’s been away after losing his job as a police officer. He doesn’t say where he’s been, and Gi-hun doesn’t ask.
Young-il holds his gaze the whole time they talk, only looking away to pay for their drinks at the end of the night. He kisses Gi-hun on the cheek after the date, with a promise to meet him the next day. Gi-hun lets out a shaky breath, and before Young-il can properly turn away, Gi-hun yanks him back close. There’s a short moment of Gi-hun searching Young-il’s eyes for a sign of hesitation, and when all he can find is amusement and a hint of hopefulness, he reaches for Young-il’s face and pulls him in for a proper kiss.
–
Three days later, Young-il tells him he’ll have to leave the city again, with that haunted, distant look in his eyes. He leaves Gi-hun standing beside his car with a fleeting kiss and a promise to meet him again. Gi-hun wonders if he's just made to be left back. He wonders if he could've just left, too. What if he asked to leave with Young-il, and left all of this behind?
The day after that, Gi-hun plays russian roulette with the man who had three years prior recruited him for the games. On the night of October 31st, Gi-hun makes the decision to rejoin as a player with a tracker in his mouth and Young-il’s name on his lips.
It was nice knowing you, Oh Young-il, he thinks as the car fills up with gas.