Midnight sun

by aydenlux

Summary:

Jun-hee gives birth during the fourth game but Myung-gi never finds her, and so Hyun-ju is given a chance to help her. Together they must navigate the games with several injuries, enemies both expected and unexpected, and a newborn.

Chapter 1: Part 1. The midnight sky.

Notes:

“One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs,”

– Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns

 

There were many stars painted on the concrete sky. Jun-hee was down on the floor, each nerve of her body wracked with pain that she had been, before this moment, unable to imagine. No book, no article, no doctor’s warning had prepared her for the brutality of it. 

 

It’s happening.

 

It was too early. Her due date was two weeks later. 

 

I can’t do this. 

 

Another wave of pain, one so nauseating, one that made her unable to breathe as she laid there, took over. Her womb cramped again beneath the skin of her stomach, spread so thin it was almost see through. She felt like a lamb waiting for slaughter. Either by knife or her own child trying to escape her body. 

 

Her only saving grace were the two women by her side.

 

“Breathe deeply, Jun-hee dear. Come on, you can do this,” Mrs. Jang whispered, her soft hand petting her hair. A mother’s touch that Jun-hee had craved all her life. She leaned into it, searching for comfort, begging for a saviour to take the pain away. 

 

Jun-hee sobbed at another contraction. There was no respite once it passed, because when it did another took its place. Her ankle pulsed, wrecked as it was. 

 

She did not want to give birth. They were in the middle of a game, prey to those waiting to eliminate anyone in their way. There was nothing to be done since her body had decided to go against her wishes. Her insides were rearranging themselves in preparation, and her limbs were both numb and agonizingly stiff. Her worst fear had come to fruition. I’m not safe. I’m not safe, I am not safe. 

 

Through blurred vision she locked eyes with Hyun-ju by her side. What she saw there made it possible to take a stuttering breath, a glimmer of hope shining through. The worried but determined look in her eyes told Jun-hee that she would be protected. At the moment it was exactly what she needed.

 

Once upon a time she had taken great pride in her independence. Having been abandoned as a child, by both her parents and every other, and eventually the system itself, she had no choice not to. Now, at her most vulnerable, there was no pride left. Although there was still a lingering hope of Myung-gi going through with his promise, with each passing second it faded further and further away. 

 

He had disappointed her many times in her life. 

 

She could not count on him. Not when it was not just her life on the line. 

 

She clung onto the women, grounded by their stability. She took a deep breath and let it out, mentally preparing herself for the unavoidable agony yet to come. God, help me. Give me strength. 

 

Mrs. Jang kept saying something about her getting her into a better position. Jun-hee heard the words, and tried to move, but the waves of pain immobilized her. The older woman turned to Hyun-ju instead, and Jun-hee was placed upright. Her hands were guided to the wall, and she ground her teeth as she braced herself on her good foot, the other held up by Hyun-ju behind her. 

 

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed, hysterical. “I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.” The rational part of her knew nobody was actually making her do this. She had done this to herself. Warm tears ran down her cheeks as the hiccuped pleas left her mouth. Her lips could not close, the shaking of her jaw was too great. 

 

“Yes, you can, my dear,” Mrs. Jang whispered from her side, her comforting hands wiping her face. “Your body knows what to do. Follow your instincts.” 

 

Jun-hee sobbed again, lungs burning for air she couldn’t get as another debilitating wave took over. “I can’t – I can’t – please, I –”

 

“Shh, calm down, my dear. Breathe, okay?” 

 

She was being ripped open. Her body locked up in panic. “I can’t – oh god – “ 

 

God, save me. 

 

There was no god. There were only Mrs. Jang, and Hyun-ju in the room. And many, many threats just outside, prowling the corridors, out for blood. 

 

Jun-hee was losing her mind. Mom. Help me, mother. 

 

“Mom – “ she sobbed. “Mom –”

 

A soft voice answered. “I’m here, my dear. I’m here.”

 

Jun-hee could finally breathe. Mom is here. “What do I –”

 

“Deep breaths, okay?” A soft hand between her shoulder blades. “We’ll keep you safe. We’ll protect you.” 

 

The words grounded her. She believed them. Mom is here. Hyun-ju is here. 

 

It didn’t lessen the torture. “I can’t – god, please – get it out – please – get it out –!” Irrational, deranged, her growl cut off only when Geum-ja soothed her. “I know, my dear. I know it’s hard, but you can do this.”

 

“I can’t!” Jun-hee might throw up. She wondered how women survived such torment. She wondered how many went insane from it.

 

“Jun-hee, listen to me,” Geum-ja said, patient but insistent, gently wiping the sweat off her face. “You can do this, okay? Deep breaths, like this –” The woman demonstrated, and Jun-hee followed. “Your body knows what to do. Don’t force it, don’t fight against it. Just let it happen.” Inhale, exhale, just like her mom said. Jun-hee’s fingernails dug into the wallpaper, squatting further down, Hyun-ju adjusting to keep supporting her as she did. “Listen to your body, follow your instincts, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

 

But she had no instincts to go on. Every part of her was in pain, and she did not know what to do to get out of it. She cried out again. The agony made all other concerns irrelevant – she could not hush her sounds even when she knew they were being hunted. 

 

Her companions were more than aware of it. They tried to calm her, and it worked to some degree. Geum-ja then suggested she try to hum each time she let out a breath. 

 

She did. 

 

The women hummed along with her. The low sounds echoing in the room, Hyun-ju’s chest vibrating against her back made her go into a trance. She felt her body open up, and felt hope for the first time since it started. 

 

It was strange. Animalistic. Primitive and odd, something she would’ve scoffed at before. Woodoo, or maybe idiocy. She did not scoff at it now.

 

Miraculously, it worked. Jun-hee was in a daze, her body on autopilot. The pain was there, as excruciating as before, but something else took over. She was put under a spell, and she let it happen, let her child hear their voices, let her prayers guide it out. 

 

Come, my child. 

 

Her baby must’ve heard her. 

 

Come to me. 

 

But others must’ve heard them as well. 

 

The door opened, a man in red standing there. Panic took over, and Jun-hee was flung right out of the dazed state. She locked up, and felt Hyun-ju do so as well. 

 

A second passed, and then the two women exchanged positions, Geum-ja taking Hyun-ju’s place behind her to stabilize her. Jun-hee watched as Hyun-ju stood up. The stance was defensive, her fists up with one leg slightly forward. 

 

Protect me. 

 

Hyun-ju did. 

 

Jun-hee could not focus on what was going on around her. She centered her focus on her child, and prayed that Hyun-ju would win. 

 

She did. 

 

Back by their side with a knife in her hand, Hyun-ju put a hand on her arm. The pressure grew, her body stretched beyond its limits as Jun-hee pushed on. The women switched positions again, and Geum-ja crouched down to look between her legs. 

 

“I see the head!” She whispered. She turned to Hyun-ju, saying something about getting her to lay down. Jun-hee let herself be repositioned, trusting her and her baby’s life in their hands. 

 

“You’re almost there, dear. Last push, come on.” 

 

Jun-hee gathered her strength, or what was left of it. Come to me. 

 

With ground teeth and a bleeding heart, she pushed with all her might. She pushed and pushed, even if it was the last thing she did. 

 

A sudden wave of relief. She opened one of her eyes, and saw the child in Geum-ja’s hold.

 

It was silent. Unnaturally so. Jun-hee’s heart stopped. 

 

Geum-ja did something, a quick motion, and then they heard an inhale from her baby. And then a loud, screeching wail. 

 

It was alive. Her child was alive. 

 

The wail was a blessing and a curse. They were running out of time, and they were being hunted for sport, and the new life had just announced everyone where they were. 

 

“Take it –” Jun-hee choked out as they cut the umbilical cord. “Take it and find the exit.”

 

While her spirit was fighting to live, she was well aware that she put them at a disadvantage. Jun-hee had no chance of survival, but her baby did. She tried to express it, but the women would not hear it. 

 

“I’ll go out,” Geum-ja said. Hyun-ju tried to make her take the knife, but the older woman shook her head. She showed them a needle, one disguised as a hair pin. The gray hair splayed across her shoulders as she held it up. The two women discussed it for a moment, but Geum-ja had made up her mind. “I’ll find the exit and then come back. Hyun-ju, help her with the placenta. And protect her.” 

 

She leaned down to press her lips against her forehead. Jun-hee’s eyes prickled with tears at the loving gesture. Good luck, mom. 

 

The older woman pulled away, and then did the same to Hyun-ju, who was holding her child. Tears threatened to spill from Hyun-ju’s eyes, her panicked breaths shaky. “I – I don’t know what to do –” she stuttered, looking at Geum-ja for guidance. 

 

“The hard part’s over. You know what to do, dear. Same as last time, okay?” She said, gently petting Hyun-ju’s hair. She then turned to her, pulled up Jun-hee’s sweat soaked shirt and bra, and put the baby to her chest, adjusting her so she’d latch correctly. Jun-hee let out a hiss when the baby’s mouth clamped on her swollen nipple. The suction was painful. Like with all else, she ground her teeth, and bore it. “Here,” Geum-ja muttered, guiding her child back to the nipple when it pulled away to cry again. “It’ll help with the placenta.” 

 

Once it quieted, suckling at her, Geum-ja pulled back, nodding at them. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

She went away, her steps measured. Jun-hee had hope. Despite her age she was small, quick, and smart. Please, please, please. 

 

The baby on her chest was quiet, but Jun-hee’s fight wasn’t over. Still, her heart settled somewhat. Hyun-ju was beside her once again, a steady arm holding her up. She looked at her, and then down at the child. 

 

I have a daughter. 

 

She closed her eyes, and breathed in and out. Bracing herself for another battle, she went on. 

 

It was not easy. 

 

Nothing was easy. 

 

Somehow it was even harder than last time. Same torture, but one with no reward. The reward is not dying, her mind supplied her. It did not help. She knew she’d die anyway.  

 

She pushed once again, holding onto the delusional hope of all four of them surviving. For some unknown reason it hadn’t detached, making her efforts worthless. She handed her child to the woman beside her, and brought her hand down to her stomach, now malleable and deflated. There was medicine that would’ve helped her but it was not accessible, so she had to be barbaric about it. When the pain got too great again she would look at the woman beside her and her baby. It was the only silver lining. 

 

With brutality, she got it out. The floor underneath her was covered with secretions. There should’ve been shame for how disgusting it was, everything that was once inside her pushed out along with the baby, but she lacked strength to feel it. No comment came from her companion, which she was thankful for. Then again Hyun-ju didn’t seem like the type of person to find any importance in such things. 

 

The woman helped her move slightly further away from it, settling her down against the wall after helping her get dressed. Geum-ja’s absence was felt greatly as Jun-hee struggled with trying to feed her daughter. She was inexperienced, and learning such things at a time like this was difficult with no midwife to guide her. Come on, latch. Hyun-ju had left her to it, turning away and taking guard when the sound of footsteps were too close for comfort. 

 

A creak of the door. Two men in red were standing there. 

 

The shock of the sight that greeted them made them freeze up. Hyun-ju took advantage of it, stabbing one of them in the chest. When the other man realised what had just happened he attacked her. Jun-hee’s breath caught for a moment as she watched Hyun-ju struggle against him. 

 

She clutched her baby closer to her chest, eyes squeezed shut. And prayed, and prayed. 

 

Please god, help her, protect her. Please, please, please. 

 

The fear made her curl up further into herself, practically moulding into the wall. Suddenly she felt a presence in front of her. She opened her eyes to see Hyun-ju crouched down, her chest heaving. 

 

“We’re running out of time. We need to go,” she said. Jun-hee knew she was just as worried for Geum-ja as she was. But Jun-hee could not walk on her own. How –? 

 

“I’ll carry you both,” Hyun-ju stated, with conviction. It shocked Jun-hee to her core. She was unable to give a reply, so she just nodded. Hyun-ju came to her side, slipping one hand under the back of Jun-hee’s knees and the other wrapped around her back. 

 

As Jun-hee was gathered in a bridal style, one of her arms around Hyun-ju’s neck, she felt something strange in her chest. While they had been physically close before now, all other matters had overshadowed it. Jun-hee looked at her, at the woman determined to save her life. She looked, and she believed. 

 

I trust you. 

 

She did. She trusted her with both herself and her child. She believed Hyun-ju would get them to safety. 

 

They started making their way out of the room but then Hyun-ju stopped. At the doorway stood another man in red. A familiar one. 

 

Mr. Seong was looking at them. There was no knife in his hands. He was still. Quiet in an unnerving way. 

 

Before, Jun-hee would have not been worried at the sight of the old man. But a lot had changed in a short time. His clothes were splattered with drops of blood, empty eyes locked onto them. 

 

“Stand back,” Hyun-ju warned. Jun-hee felt the muscles of her hand flex underneath her thighs, the knife in her hand. Ready to protect them from every threat, whether friend or foe. 

 

Mr. Seong just stood there. That empty gaze was stuck on the baby on Jun-hee’s chest. 

 

“Mr. Seong..” Jun-hee said, voice small. She had not been afraid of him before. She was now. 

 

The man opened his mouth. “The.. the baby..?” It resembled a question. 

 

“She’s fine. A girl,” Jun-hee said, her hand gripping Hyun-ju’s shoulder. Should Mr. Seong decide to go for the kill, they would likely lose.

 

Mr. Seong blinked, for the first time. Something in his expression had shifted slightly. Hyun-ju looked at him sternly, and it seemed she wanted to tell him off but he got ahead of her. “There’s only a few minutes left. I know where the exit is. Follow me,” he said, and then left the doorway. 

 

With no other choice, they did. 

 

Hyun-ju seemed wary of him, keeping a few paces away. He did not look back at them, which Jun-hee took as a positive sign. 

 

They went through the maze. Jun-hee was truly amazed at Hyun-ju’s strength. She carried them both, determined eyes only leaving Mr. Seong’s back to look for any threats that might come from their sides.

 

They arrived at a room. The first thing her eyes registered was the sign above the door, displaying the three keys. 

 

The second were the people in the room. There was a short man in red standing there, a bloody knife in his hands, his back turned to them. On the floor in front of him lay one body of red, one blue. 

 

A wave of sorrow, one so great it brought on another flare of pain, starting from her heart and radiating into every other part as her eyes registered the two people on the floor. A mother and son, slain together. Geum-ja was dead. 

 

Mom is dead.

 

A guttural sound echoed in the room. Whether it came from her, or the woman carrying her, she did not know.

 

Gone, gone, gone.

 

Hyun-ju stumbled slightly, her face scrunched up in agony. Despite it the hold on them did not weaken. But Jun-hee’s grief-stricken sob awoke her child, and she gave a loud wail, announcing them once again. 

 

Player 125 turned around to face them. The man’s head was down, empty eyes locked onto them. “Stop.. screaming..” he said, twitching slightly. Jun-hee pressed her lips together, the forced down sobs making her abdomen quiver. Her child however couldn’t restrain her sounds. 

 

The young man was completely out of it. A few drops of blood splattered on the floor as he gripped the knife, his other hand coming to hold the side of his head. “I said – stop screaming!” He screeched, body leaned forward. Uncoordinated, insane. Dangerous. 

 

Mr. Seong turned to them. “The keys?” He asked, and Hyun-ju nodded. 

 

“Go,” he said, and turned back around as the younger man took quick steps towards them, obscuring them with his body. “Go, now!” 

 

Hyun-ju did not wait another moment. She carried them across the room, and crouched down to face the lock. “Jun-hee –“ she said, voice shaking, trembling lips parted. The screeching of her child did not drown out the grunts of two men fighting behind them. With a shaky hand she fished out the keys from underneath Hyun-ju’s tracksuit, and she tried her best, but she couldn’t get them in. 

 

He will kill us. He will kill my daughter. 

 

They heard another grunt, and her head turned around to see Mr Seong on the floor, the younger man in a headlock. But Mr Seong had no knife, and the other man did. “Jun-hee –“

 

Three locks. She got the first one in, and turned to Hyun-ju. “Give him the knife,” she said, trying to get the next one as well. The younger man had freed himself from the hold, and was making his way towards them. Hyun-ju saw as well, and made her decision, her arm ready to throw the weapon.

 

But it couldn’t be done. Player 125 was too close, screeching over the wailing sound of her baby. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” Just as he swung his knife a figure appeared behind him, stopping the motion. Jun-hee got in the third key. 

 

“Go already!” Mr Seong yelled, the deranged man trapped in his hold. 

 

“We’re – trying –!” Hyun-ju ground out.  

 

A click. The door finally opened. As Hyun-ju took the step out Jun-hee heard a loud crack, and spared a last glance behind them. The young man’s head was in Mr. Seong’s grip, crushed against the wall. Player 125’s empty eyes were the last thing Jun-hee saw before the door closed. 

 

Serves him right. If the circumstances had been different she would’ve done worse. Still, the crack echoed in her head, chilling to the bone.

 

She turned to look at Hyun-ju, who swayed a little, still heaving for breath. They stumbled back against the wall, and then slid down to sit on the floor. Jun-hee was still trying to catch her breath, but the baby’s panicked screaming was grating, so she quickly pulled up her bra and tried to quiet her by feeding. She tried to protest at first, letting out a few more wails but then the appeal of a nipple was thankfully enough to calm her down. 

 

They sat there, Hyun-ju’s head thrown back with her eyes closed, and them in her lap. 

 

A guard appeared in front of them. “Player 120 and 222, pass. Please move on to the dorms.”

 

Hyun-ju’s brow furrowed. “She just gave birth. We need to use the bathroom.”

 

The guard stood still for a moment. “All players must proceed to the dorms,” the robotic voice insisted.

 

The anger flared up. Jun-hee was losing it. “I have a newborn, you imbecile!” She took Hyun-ju’s soiled sweater and threw it at the guard. It flinched. “Do you smell that? What  –” She hiccuped, the onslaught of tears humiliating. Every part of her was in pain. She was infuriated, grieving. “Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck – !” Her cursing cut off when Hyun-ju adjusted them, and stood up with a small exhale through her nose. 

 

The guard’s gun was hanging from its strap, its gloved hands up placatingly. 

 

“We’re going. To the bathroom.” Hyun-ju’s statement left no room for argument. The guard followed them, Hyun-ju’s sweater in its hand, held away like radioactive material, and remained outside once they were in. 

 

The woman’s strength seemed endless. If it weren’t for the heavy breaths, and the few moments where it seemed her legs would give out, swaying slightly in place, Jun-hee would think she’s superhuman. 

 

Hyun-ju took them to the sinks. There was no conversation while they were washing the baby, nor when Hyun-ju took a few moments to herself in the bathroom and to wipe down the sweat from her neck while Jun-hee balanced on one foot. 

 

Then it was her turn. But her pitiful state made her unable to take care of herself. They put the baby in one of the sinks, and luckily she didn’t seem to mind being there.

 

They looked at each other for a moment. Jun-hee had no pride left. “Is it – do you mind –?” She’d already been naked in front of her but it was still a lot to ask of someone. Hyun-ju shook her head, and they hobbled to the bathroom. As she sat on the toilet she felt a wave of grief oncoming once again. She didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real. 

 

Hyun-ju helped her take off her tracksuit pants and underwear, all soiled, and left the stall, giving her a moment of privacy. It was a nice gesture, albeit an unnecessary one, considering Hyun-ju had already seen everything. Jun-hee appreciated it but knew she had to ask for her help once again. Her voice sounded small, hoarse as it was when she called out for her. Hyun-ju, like always, did not keep her waiting. 

 

She carried her back to the sinks, and Hyun-ju stood behind her, a hand wrapped around her middle and holding her injured leg while Jun-hee tried to wash herself as well as she could. Everything between her legs felt swollen, inflamed and mangled. She was glad she couldn’t actually see what was going on there. The sight was likely horrid, scarier than anything she’d seen. 

 

The baby was silent except a few mumbles as they sat side-by-side on the floor, their backs against the wall. A moment of quiet grief. Jun-hee’s eyes were still stuck on the stalls on the opposite side when she opened her mouth. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

In her peripheral vision she saw Hyun-ju nod, and then wipe her face. Jun-hee had been crying as well, the warm tears running down her cheeks and under her chin. 

 

They did not speak of Geum-ja’s death. They didn’t need to. Their grief was their own, but united in spirit. 

 

After a while came the knock on the door. “All players must now proceed to the dorms,” the voice said. 

 

Jun-hee looked down at herself, and then at the pile of clothes still on the floor. “Shit,” she whispered. Hyun-ju nodded at that as well. “I don’t want to put them back on.” 

 

The clothes were truly horrid, covered from everything that had come out of her. Was still coming out. 

 

Hyun-ju nodded again, a thoughtful expression on her face as she regarded the clothes. She then stood up and went to the door, opening it slightly. “We need a change of clothes. And diapers for the baby. Some sanitary pads as well.”

 

It was silent. Then the moron spoke. “All players have one uniform. No spares.”

 

Jun-hee heard Hyun-ju try to explain further, even going as far as to bargain. Unfortunately it led to nothing. The door shut once again she came back to her side, and with great care pulled up the pants until they sat around Jun-hee’s thighs. They stopped for a moment, tired sighs leaving them. Hyun-ju looked around the room. “Tissues?” She offered. Despite how dire the whole thing was, Jun-hee felt a tug at the corner of her mouth. Using tissues instead of a pad. Nostalgic, and not in a good way. 

 

Closing her legs was unpleasant to say the least, but the knocking was more insistent this time, and they had to get out. Her daughter was wrapped up in Hyun-ju’s soiled sweater and back in her hold when Hyun-ju brought them both up again. The guard took them back to the dorms. 

 

As soon as they stepped in the room went quiet. Then the whispers started, although the men’s whispering was barely below their usual grumbled tone. There were less beds as well. Neither of them paid them any mind, bypassing shackled Mr. Seong on the floor, who did not look at them. But a glare she could not look past was one that came from her ex-boyfriend. 

 

Liar. A fraud. Pathetic, pathetic. 

 

Those doe eyes displayed a mixture of emotions from across the room. Elation at seeing their child was alive, concern for Jun-hee – or the baby, most likely. And then it turned ugly. But not towards her. Myung-gi’s spiteful glare drilled holes into Hyun-ju. 

 

Pathetic.

 

It was he who had not found her. All his promises, none of them fulfilled. 

 

Jun-hee turned away from him. 

 

Hyun-ju laid them down on one of the beds, and then sat on the corner, her fatigue now manifesting in a physical way. Shoulders slumped, empty eyes glued to the empty bed a few metres beside Jun-hee’s. She turned her head towards the other bed as well. 

 

The complicated matter was that Jun-hee wanted Hyun-ju close by. However, she could not voice it. She had already been an unimaginable burden on the woman. A woman who held no responsibility for her or her baby, who had no reason to risk her life for her sake. Jun-hee knew Hyun-ju would help her with anything she asked. It broke something in her. 

 

Please stay with me. She had no right to ask for it. I trust you, and only you. 

 

She kept her mouth shut. 

 

All she wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep. Unfortunately there was no rest for them. They were called up to vote, Hyun-ju helping her again even though Jun-hee had not requested it. Although she felt like she’d pass out any moment, she limped to the stand, and pressed X. 

 

Afterwards, she watched Myung-gi, who kept his red tag. His gaze as it met hers was beyond irritating. He looked proud of himself as if this one action would cancel out all else. 

 

Jun-hee ground her teeth. He’d still failed her. The red tag didn’t change anything. She will not pat his head and welcome him back. 

 

They lost the vote. Again. Mr. Seong did not participate. Again. 

 

Afterwards they were given whatever constituted dinner in a hellhole such as this, and she and Hyun-ju sat on the bed. Jun-hee had already taken a bite, but then stopped. 

 

Hyun-ju was not eating. The woman was offering her food instead. “Take it. You need it more than I do,” she said. 

 

Jun-hee could not accept it, but took a moment to think of how to get her to eat. “Please eat,” she insisted, not moving an inch towards the food offered to her. “You’re.. if you’re too weak – if you die, we will – “ The truth was difficult to voice. “We have no chance of survival.” 

 

Hyun-ju’s eyes held hers. Sadness, and then acceptance. No further arguments, they both ate in silence. 

 

A figure appeared beside their bed. A younger man, player 124. He was shifting from foot-to-foot, restless hands fiddling with his share, nervous energy radiating off of him. Jun-hee had not failed to notice how Hyun-ju had immediately straightened her back, on guard in case he proved to be a threat. Nor how the young man, one she remembered had always voted to stay, was wearing a red tag. 

 

“What do you want?” Hyun-ju asked, hostile. Jun-hee didn’t feel very welcoming either. 

 

He cleared his throat, glancing at them briefly before his gaze went down at the food in his hands. “Take it,” he said, hand held out, avoiding meeting their eyes at any cost.

 

“Is this a trick?” Hyun-ju asked. Suspicious, and rightfully so. They didn’t know him. They hadn’t exchanged a single word.  

 

The man shook his head, his long hair bouncing slightly, his outstretched hand insisting they take the food. “Why?” Jun-hee asked, confused by the behaviour. 

 

The man shrugged, and stayed silent. He was constantly making small movements as if his skin was too tight for him. 

 

They took it, giving polite ‘thank you’s in return. He gave an awkward nod, either shy or discomforted by the words of gratitude, and went back to his bed. They looked at each other for a moment, confused by the interaction. Kindness in these games was a rare thing, and should be cherished. They split it equally. 

 

Her daughter became fussy once again, head swaying slightly, searching for a nipple. Jun-hee acted quickly, well-aware that if she started screaming the men could become angry, a few of them now asleep and snoring. She wondered if any of them had children. Or if they did, if they were as uninvolved in raising them as Myung-gi seemed set to be. 

 

The smell of their clothes was revolting. It was also unavoidable, since her daughter was not given any items necessary for a baby. Fortunately Jun-hee was too exhausted to think too much about it. Still, Hyun-ju had to put up with it as well. Her sweater was dampened further as she fed her child. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at the sweater. It was more wet than dry, and all the fluids that had somewhat dried from when she’d given birth made the green colour almost unrecognisable. “You can have mine,” she offered, even though she knew she would be cold without it. Wet and cold, the most unpleasant combination. 

 

Hyun-ju shook her head, eyes kind. “Don’t apologise. Not for this, please.” She sighed again, fingers fiddling with strands of her hair. “I’ll be fine. Your daughter, however..” Her eyes went down to her baby. “Not giving you diapers, or anything – shit,” she cursed. Jun-hee felt indignant as well. “Those wet clothes.. The risk of hypothermia – ” 

 

Jun-hee felt the telltale prickle of tears at the thought of her child’s untimely death due to such a foolish reason. Crying again, really? She couldn’t help it, and blinked quickly to try and hold them off. Hyun-ju’s sad eyes held hers, eyelashes still clumped from when they’d cried. 

 

Hyun-ju’s throat worked as she swallowed, eyes on the other bed again. “Okay,” she breathed, straightening her back. “Game plan.”

 

Tears diminished with a quick swipe of her hand, Jun-hee perked up slightly. “The baby will likely wake up several times during the night. When it’s time to feed then you’ll – you get it. However, she should be washed as well.” Jun-hee nodded in agreement. “I can deal with that, if you – if you trust me to,” Hyun-ju finished, looking uncertain. Before Jun-hee could say that she did, Hyun-ju went on. “Or we can – I can take you both –”

 

“I trust you,” Jun-hee stated, sure and final. Hyun-ju’s eyes were wide as if she was surprised to hear the words. As if she hadn’t proven herself over, and over, and over. “It’s more than I could ask for. Thank you. For everything.” 

 

Jun-hee’s hand moved towards the woman on her bed, but she pulled it back before it could make contact. It was an unconscious movement, spurned from the desire to do.. something. She was unsure of what it was. That single action made her feel more exposed than when she’d been naked in front of her, several times in the span of an hour. She kept her hand away, not wanting to impose any further. 

 

When physical touch was not required it seemed inappropriate to initiate it. Hyun-ju looked at her hand, now back around her baby, and luckily didn’t address Jun-hee’s strange behavior. 

 

“No need to thank me. For anything,” she said, with conviction. Her voice sounded hesitant as she stared at the bed beside hers. “I could move it a bit closer, just in case –“

 

“Yes.” The affirmation came a bit too quickly and too enthusiastically for her liking. It couldn't be helped, Jun-hee really wanted her to remain close by. 

 

Hyun-ju thankfully did not comment on it. “Alright,” she said, looking troubled again. “I’ll.. try to get something. They must have spare shirts or – well, anything lying around.” She sighed again, looking around the room.  

 

It was very likely. Unfortunately their cruelty – or apathy – had no bounds. Jun-hee took her baby away from her breast, and quickly covered it in case some weirdo tried to catch a glimpse. She put her on her shoulder, patting her back and waiting for the burp. Once she heard it, she let out a sigh of relief, and looked back at the woman. 

 

Hyun-ju’s eyes were unbelievably soft. Another strange sensation overcame her at that expression. “Would you like to hold her?” She whispered. Hyun-ju nodded, a soft “yes” whispered in return. 

 

The strange sensation grew as she watched Hyun-ju hold her child with all the care in the world. It turned in her stomach and wound itself around her heart, squeezing painfully. A gentle ache, unlike all the others. Her daughter seemed right at home, in tranquil sleep while cradled by her. 

 

The scene settled her in more ways than one. Her eyes were drooping, tiredness overwhelming. 

 

“Try and catch some sleep, alright?” Hyun-ju whispered, handing the baby back to her.

 

“You’ll –” Jun-hee stopped again. “The bed?” She asked, looking away in embarrassment. Heart rate elevated, and for no reason. It was Hyun-ju who had suggested it, and yet Jun-hee was hesitant to voice it. Don’t leave me. Please stay by my side. 

 

Hyun-ju nodded, standing up. Jun-hee watched as she went to the other bed and pushed it close to hers, leaving a small gap. Her hands, which had been braced on the railing, came up to adjust the strands of hair which had fallen over her eyes while she’d been busy. 

 

The gap between the beds was bothering her. Closer. 

 

Hyun-ju froze in place, looking like a deer in headlights. “Closer?”

 

Oh. Jun-hee must’ve said it out loud. How embarrassing. 

 

The beds were pushed together, flush with each other. “Like this?” Hyun-ju asked. Jun-hee nodded, happy that her request was fulfilled. 

 

Hyun-ju got in her bed and brought the sheet over herself. Jun-hee settled on her side, facing her with the baby beside her. With both of them close, she succumbed to exhaustion. 

Hyun-ju grit her teeth as the knife she’d hidden dug into her skin. She put it underneath her bra knowing she might need it later. They did not search them as they probably had not thought a player wearing blue would be able to acquire one. 

 

The blade was sharp, and hurt like hell. She was lucky she hadn't bled through her shirt. With small movements as to not draw any attention, she slipped her hand under the material, the handle in a secure hold as she took it away from her skin, and quickly put it under the pillow. The only noise she allowed to escape from between her lips was a small hiss, or perhaps two. The clothes she had worn over the several gruesome days were already so dirty, so utterly disgusting that no amount of blood spilled would catch an eye. 

 

Could cause inflammation, though. Before when they’d been in the bathroom she had deliberately not brought attention to her own injuries. Jun-hee had, unbelievably bravely, birthed an actual child in an impossibly short amount of time, and both mother and daughter were alive. Surely even hell itself had better circumstances for childbirth. Whatever woes Hyun-ju had were irrelevant. She kept her mouth shut, bearing the sting of the blade, and did what she had to do. 

 

And she did it with all of her heart. She did, and would continue to do so. Jun-hee and her baby would make it out no matter what. 

 

There were several moments where she thought about what led her here, or why she’d agreed to any of it in the first place. Now looking at the injured young mother and her healthy, tiny little baby, she knew fate had brought her here for this exact purpose. 

 

She was tired. Her body hurt all over, muscles protesting at any and every movement.

 

Suck it up. She did. Hyun-ju spared one last glance at her bedmate, stood up, and made her way to the door. She knocked twice, and then the latch was opened. “Hello,” she started with a polite greeting, her voice whispered, hands twisting into each other. “I was told there were no supplies for the baby, but could you at least provide some spare material?”

 

The other side was silent. She was sent away empty handed. 

 

There has to be something. Think, think. She looked around the dorm room, and her eyes settled on Mr. Seong sitting on the floor. It seemed he hadn’t moved an inch this whole time. Hyun-ju sat down beside him. The man didn’t acknowledge her presence. 

 

“Thank you. For helping us,” she said. Mr. Seong stayed silent in return. 

 

All of his teammates were dead. Except for Jun-hee. 

 

Hyun-ju had lost more than she’d ever had. She was alone, too. But now nothing mattered except the young mother. “Will you help Jun-hee and her daughter?” she asked. 

 

He finally spared her a glance. “I’m not.. I don’t think I can help anyone, anymore,” was his response, as dejected as the complimentary sigh. 

 

The pity party was not unreasonable considering everything that’s happened, but Hyun-ju was still frustrated by it. Can’t he see how important this is? Snap out of it. “You helped us. Before. You can help her again.”

 

The old man did not respond to that. Mute, body practically folded into himself. Sad, so discouragingly sad. If it wasn’t for Jun-hee, Hyun-ju would’ve left him to his misery. She stayed where she was. There must be something that would reach him. 

 

Mr. Seong tried to be a hero, and failed spectacularly. They all did. With a setback of this magnitude, one could either stand up and move on or lay down to die. It seemed the old man had chosen the latter. Hyun-ju could not stand for it. They needed allies, able-bodied ones. 

 

“Jun-hee’s injured. She’d just given birth. She needs all the help she can get.” 

 

The old man spared her another sad glance. “She has you,” he sighed. 

 

Her hands twisted into themselves, a nervous habit she didn’t know how to break. She released them, and held out her left arm to display the slash across it.  “I’m.. I try. But –” Her eyes caught a flicker of concern flash in Mr. Seong’s, and felt hopeful for the first time since the start of the interaction. “I’m not.. invincible. And if – if something happens to me, she..”

 

The man looked away again, and Hyun-ju intertwined her hands once more. “Ahjussi..” She sighed. “Help her and her baby. Please.”

 

The man just sighed, and said nothing. Hyun-ju was lost once more.  

 

Mr. Seong, since she first saw him, had always come across as someone who wanted to be a savior to all. Now he’s a savior to none. There must be some sentence, some set of words that could be strung together which would wake him up from whatever slump he’s spiraled into. Appeal to hero complex. Men dream of knighthood the same way little girls dream of motherhood – concerned with virtue, and with very little regard to actual human life. 

 

Mr. Seong wanted to be a knight, and she knew that. Make him believe he could still be one. Hyun-ju brought her knees up under her chin, head down with the intention of appearing smaller than she was. “It’s not her fault she was born in this place,” she went on, voice meek. “Look at all those men,” she gestured across the room to the players with blue tags. Mr. Seong’s head went up. 

 

“None of them will help us. They might even.. they might decide to hurt Jun-hee and her baby.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, satisfied at the miniscule shift in his expression, now clearly tense at the thought. 

 

“It’s an innocent life. She did not choose to be born here, she signed no contract. Jun-hee and her baby could survive, if we help her. Please.. we need you.” She was laying it on thick but it seemed to work. The man kept glaring at the ones sleeping across the room. 

 

“So.. will you?” 

 

Mr. Seong’s head went down, looking dejected once again. With eyes closed he sighed, and made a movement with his head that could have resembled a nod. He might just be falling asleep, Hyun-ju wasn’t sure. 

 

The nonverbal answer was not satisfactory, but she would not push for more, at least not now. Deciding to leave him be, she looked behind her where she’d rested her back against the bed railing. Maybe she could..  

 

Mr. Seong wasn’t using the bed anyway. “May I take the sheet?” She asked. The man’s head came back up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “They gave us nothing for the baby. I could make some makeshift diapers, or something resembling it. And – other things,” she explained, probably not very well. 

 

“Take what you need,” Mr. Seong replied, clearly unconcerned with his own comfort. Perhaps he was not planning on returning to his bed at all. 

 

Hyun-ju thanked him, stripped the bed of its sheet, leaving the pillow and duvet as they were, and took it back to her and Jun-hee’s bed. She would deal with it when the baby woke up. For now, she tried to rest. 

Like newborns do, Jun-hee’s daughter woke up several times during the sleeping hours. Once again Hyun-ju was thankful for her previous occupation for giving her many useful skills, including being able to successfully function while being sleep-deprived to the extreme. 

The first time. After Jun-hee fed her fussy child they gathered her up, and all three of them went up to the door. A knock, and then the latch was opened. 

 

“We need to use the bathroom,” Hyun-ju said. 

 

“Why?” The guard asked. 

 

God, what an idiot. “The child needs to be washed,” she explained with patience she was severely lacking. 

 

The door opened but then the guard had another issue. “Bringing items along is prohibited.”

 

Hyun-ju heard the baby hiccup and knew soon enough she’d start screaming. They were trying very, very hard to avoid that. “It’s just a bedsheet. Since you refuse to provide the baby with anything, we have no choice but to make our own ‘diapers’.” The white sheet was thrown over her shoulder, and she was ready to fight tooth and nail for it. The guard made a show of checking that the sheet was, in fact, just a sheet. She wondered if it was the same one who’d Jun-hee flung the piss-and-blood-and-whatever-else soiled sweater at. 

 

The baby let out a loud wail, and the guard seemed a bit thrown off by it, so without further protests they were let out and taken to the bathroom. Once the door was closed Jun-hee questioned her on how they were going to use it, to which Hyun-ju presented her with the knife she’d stolen. 

 

The younger woman’s eyes widened at the sight of her chest. “You’re hurt!” Her brow was furrowed, seemingly a little upset by the bleeding. “Don’t mind it,” Hyun-ju assured her, and set to her task. Jun-hee looked displeased but did not scold her for it since the knife had proven to be extremely useful. 

 

They went back, all three of them patched up, the baby content once again, and went to sleep.

The second time. Hyun-ju noticed Jun-hee’s eyes drooping as her baby suckled, and knew she had to go alone this time around. Jun-hee’s injured ankle couldn’t bear the weight put upon it, and she should rest anyway. Jun-hee thanked her, handing the baby over, and before Hyun-ju had even got out of bed she’d already fallen back asleep. 

 

The newborn safely in her hold, Hyun-ju went to the door and knocked. Once again she was questioned, and once again she tried to patiently explain that a baby does, in fact, need to be taken care of several times during the night. 

 

Let me out right this instant or I’ll rip that stupid mask off your face and ensure you’ll never take another breath, was what she wanted to say. What she actually voiced was “Please, she’ll –” The distressed noises from the tiny human in her arms were becoming louder. She rocked her slightly, trying to hold it off for a little while longer. “She’ll scream, soon. I won’t be long, she just needs to be clean and dry. Please.”

 

She was let out. Anxiety over handling a newborn was more apparent now that the mother wasn’t close by to let her know in case she did anything wrong. She made sure to be as careful as possible while washing her little body with warm water and wrapping her up in clean cloth. With no prior experience it was as nerve-wrecking as it was exhilarating. Hyun-ju didn’t know what she was doing, not really, and the baby was so tiny, so unbelievably small, weighing almost nothing. Small and vulnerable. Beautiful. Her heart squeezed painfully as she cradled her back to her chest. The child let out a few sounds as she held her, and Hyun-ju only noticed the tear that had escaped when it slid down her cheek. 

 

She wiped it away, and pressed a kiss to her soft head, the dusting of hair like feathers tickling her lips. The moment, a precious thing she would remember until the end of her days, was gone with another knock. The knife wrapped up so it wouldn’t cut her skin and hidden where they wouldn’t think to look, she went back. 

The third time. Jun-hee’s small gasp had awoken her, and Hyun-ju immediately understood when the young woman’s wide eyes were looking down at herself, glued to whatever she saw, or perhaps felt, between her legs. The three of them were once again at the door, waiting to be let out. 

 

They were once again needlessly questioned. In her delirious state it reminded her of bargaining at a damn flea market. She wondered if they were purposefully being cruel to them. Every time they came up it was obvious why they were there. And yet the guards still questioned them as if they had some ulterior motives. 

 

She was exhausted, and had no patience left. Not wanting to lose the little favour they had by lashing out, she ground her teeth and let Jun-hee try and convince them. 

 

They were let out, eventually. 

The fourth time. Hyun-ju’s head was pounding, and her eyelids were weighed down as if they’d been glued shut during what felt like a few minutes of proper sleep at most. She attempted to get up, but remained leaning on her elbow for a few seconds, drowsily looking at the exhausted Jun-hee who had just put away her breast after feeding.  

 

A figure appeared beside their beds from seemingly out of nowhere. Mr. Seong was standing there with what looked like a pillowcase slung over his shoulder. Hyun-ju immediately tensed, shifting slightly so her hand slipped beneath the pillow where she kept the knife. She did not like any man invading their space, not even him. 

 

“I can take her this time,” Mr. Seong said. His voice was hushed, grated. 

 

There had been trust based on mutual understanding between them before, but now the circumstances had changed, and it was not just her life on the line. She did not know him, not really, and could not decipher his motives. For that reason Hyun-ju was not very enthusiastic about entrusting Jun-hee’s baby to the man. Jun-hee looked unsure as well, tired eyes going between her baby, her, and Mr. Seong. 

 

“I.. I had a daughter,” he explained. “I know what to do.”

 

The offer made sense now. Still, Hyun-ju was not completely sold, but in the end the decision was not hers to make. Jun-hee held out her baby for him, and Hyun-ju watched with laser focus as he carefully took her and settled her on his chest where the white material was draped over it. The hold seemed correct, at least. 

 

Hyun-ju must’ve been more tired than she thought because the sight of the baby in Mr. Seong’s arms brought out some ugly emotion. She was jealous. There was no reason for it because she was not her child, and Mr. Seong was just trying to help. 

 

She is not my daughter. Not my child, she tried to tell her heart, but it didn’t listen.

 

Despite the exhaustion she stayed up, fully alert as Mr. Seong left the dorms with the baby. It seemed to her that he had spent less time arguing with the guards than they had. Perhaps he had some winner’s favour, or maybe it was just her sleep-deprived mind inventing tales out of envy. 

 

With great worry, not at all dampened by the need for sleep, she waited for his return. During the wait her eyes slipped shut several times but she stubbornly fought against it. She could not rest until the baby was safe and sound between her and Jun-hee. 

 

After what seemed like hours, but in reality was likely no more than ten minutes, Mr. Seong returned to the dorms. He walked to her side of the bed, and handed her Jun-hee’s baby, since her mother was dead asleep. 

 

“Thank you,” Hyun-ju said, taking the child in her hold, mind and heart at ease now that she was assured that she was fine. Mr. Seong acknowledged it, and went away to his bed. He must’ve not been lying about his daughter, since she was well taken care of, properly wrapped up as well. Despite the jealous thoughts she was thankful he decided to help. She put her back to Jun-hee’s side, and passed out. 

The morning was not any better. The night, as tiring as it was, had gone by fairly well considering everything. Jun-hee’s baby had barely made a sound. Now the two of them were struggling because something was wrong and the baby had no way of telling them what it was so she wailed and wailed, her screams piercing their ears. 

 

The morning was marginally worse. 

 

At least the baby’s screeching allowed them out without too much trouble. They still questioned them but it seemed such distressed sounds coming from a child affected the guards as well. 

 

Ushered back to the dorms, they were once again at a loss. They had tried everything  – she was fed, clean and warm. With each minute the crying became louder in volume, her tiny body shaking from it and her skin turning gradually more red. Hyun-ju was panicking, and Jun-hee looked close to tears, lips trembling while she tried to soothe her daughter with both her voice and body. 

 

They’d already heard the men’s displeased grumbles when the first hiccups appeared. Those became more frequent and vocal as the wailing went on. 

 

It was not surprising. All the players were starving and exhausted. The shrill sound, loud and grating to the ears, was as pleasant as being flayed alive. It was inescapable, relentless, going on, and on, and on. They were out of ideas on how to calm her. Even Mr. Seong had come by, trying to find a solution, but he had none, just like them. 

 

There was no sense of time but Hyun-ju knew she should’ve already gone down for another nap. The baby was fighting sleep for some reason, and they couldn’t figure out why. All these people, and not one doctor around. 

 

She wished there was a clock or any other item which would help them keep track of time. She left Jun-hee and her distressed child for a moment, and went up to the door for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

 

“What do you want?” The robotic voice couldn’t hide the amount of hostility heard in that single question.

 

It seemed everyone was in a bad mood today. Hyun-ju had no patience to deal with pissy attitudes, but it couldn’t be helped. Be polite. “Could we perhaps be let out and taken somewhere else? A change of scenery.. for a little while,” she ground out, tone as light as she could keep it. She wished for a break of any kind. She wished for sunlight. She would give anything for just a small moment of it. “Until the baby calms down.”

 

They sent her away. Hyun-ju felt murderous. Like with all else, she shoved it down and tried to support Jun-hee, who seemed on the edge of a breakdown. 

 

One of the men seemed to have enough. “For fuck’s sake, send them away! I can’t stand this fucking crying!” The O-player screamed. Another piped up as well. “Yeah! Why should we be punished just because some whore decided to give birth!” 

 

What the fuck. She was infuriated. Those morons were getting on her last nerve. 

 

They went on. “It’s not our fault she’s a shit mother. Take her away!” The men were getting closer to the X side, pointing at them, eyes wide with anger. 

 

Her last nerve was set on fire. On the defense, and angrier than she’d been in a long time, she stood in front of Jun-hee, not wanting the men any closer than they were. “We’re trying to calm her, and your screaming does not help. She’s just distressed –”

 

The attention went to her. “Shut the fuck up, you ugly bitch,” one of them sneered. The insult hurt, but she stayed where she was. “Take the creature out too,” another added, a shaking finger extended in her direction. A chorus of laughter followed, one that cut deep into her skin and down to the bone.

 

The fury, all-consuming and ugly, made her knuckles itch, body readying for a fight. Unfortunately she was weakened, and could not take them all even though she really, really wanted to. Hyun-ju took a deep breath, and then addressed them once more. “Have a bit of patience, for god’s sake. Do none of you have children? Don’t you understand?” She was close to breaking down, the sting of oncoming tears embarrassing but unavoidable. From anger, or hurt, or humiliation, she wasn’t sure. 

 

“Shut up!” The man growled. “Shut your mouth, and shut that wretched little shit up as well, or I swear I’ll do it mys–”

 

The outrage was cut off by a man’s voice, one that came from Hyun-ju’s side. Mr. Seong had stood up. “You want teeth for breakfast? One more word and that’s what you’ll be having.” 

 

The men quieted at that. Their eyes went from between Mr. Seong’s defiant stance, and them. “It’s not fair!” A man cried out, petulant like a child throwing a tantrum. ‘Not fair’ was a four-year-old’s favourite phrase, and yet the man who screamed it had greying hair and a sagging skin. Hyun-ju wanted to spit in his face. “Why are we being punished for some kid?” 

 

Mr. Seong took a step forward. Hyun-ju couldn’t see his expression, but whatever his face displayed seemed to be intimidating enough for the men, who looked at him warily. 

 

“Go back to your beds, and wait for the next game. You can’t handle a little crying, is that it?” His voice was mocking. “If so, ask to be let out instead,” the old man said, gesturing to the door. The other side went quiet at that, no more fingers pointed in any direction. 

 

“Well?” Mr. Seong went on. “Go on, then.” 

 

The standstill lasted for a moment, the men sizing him up. Whatever they saw must’ve registered as enough of a challenge that they backed down, turning away shuffling back to their side of the room. Hyun-ju wasn’t sure if whatever they continued to mumble was too quiet, simply incoherent, or just drowned out by the pounding in her head. 

 

She was angry. She was humiliated. Spiteful too, because Mr. Seong seemed to accomplish what she hadn’t been able to do. 

 

Of course they only listened to one of their own. Everyone is equal here, but some were more equal than others. An unfortunate fact that transcended the games. Hyun-ju’s irritation, spurned from the overwhelming hurt, remained when Mr. Seong turned to them, the concern written all over his face. She did not think basic human decency deserved an applause but she couldn’t risk hurting his pride. Jun-hee thanked him, and she did as well. 

 

She was in mourning. Men listened to her, once. She had authority, status, respect, once. It vanished once she decided to be true to herself. Now she was nothing but an ugly bitch. 

 

A creature. 

 

She went back to Jun-hee and her baby who was still screaming. Hyun-ju barely heard it now. 

 

God, it hurt. 

 

Insults from those lowlives shouldn’t get to her as much as they did. It was nothing new, nothing she hadn’t heard before, nothing that should’ve got through her skin, thickened over the years from dealing with all sorts of degenerates. 

 

And yet it did, sharp and stinging, reopening old wounds. With her heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through her veins, she tried to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. The motion of her hands twisting into each other was a painful but effective distraction. As she became more stable she acknowledged that, despite how awful she felt, Mr. Seong standing up for them was encouraging. They had an ally, someone on their side. 

 

In these games it was worth more than anything, even more than food. The lone wolf is a failing strategy with no chance of survival. It’s why teams were formed, again and again, the dead ones replaced with those still remaining. 

 

With Mr. Seong their group consisted of three people. It gave her hope. With those odds it was possible for Jun-hee to get out of here alive. 

 

Her attention was snapped back to the present when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked at Jun-hee, her kind eyes on her, and suddenly all the hurt faded into nothing. Her decision to live her life as she did had cost her a lot, yes, but some things gained were worth a lot more. What they thought of her didn’t matter, not when Jun-hee’s friendship was offered in turn. 

 

She nodded, acknowledging the gesture, grateful enough to offer a small smile as a thank you. The hand went away, Jun-hee tending to her daughter. Hyun-ju then saw Mr. Seong standing at the door and talking to the guards. He was there for a while, and then turned around, motioning for them to come to the door as well. With Hyun-ju’s hand wrapped around Jun-hee in support, they took steps towards it. 

 

Whatever deal Mr. Seong had struck, or if he truly did have some sway as the previous winner, it worked in their favour. Hyun-ju, Jun-hee and her baby were let out of the dorms and taken to a room. It was compact, as small and minimalistic as possible. Most importantly it was private. 

 

They were given a break at last, even for just a little while. Hyun-ju couldn’t have been more grateful. 

Since Jun-hee had come to the games she’d experienced more suffering than she’d ever imagined. She was exhausted. 

 

Luck had struck her once again as she sat in the secluded room. Hyun-ju was on the bed, propped up by a pillow with her baby finally quiet. Exhaustion had caught up to the woman as well, in deep sleep with the baby cradled to her chest. 

 

She sat in a lone chair, watching them both. 

 

She thought about her companion. Hyun-ju’s allyship was not exactly unexpected but it still struck a cord deep within her. Jun-hee had seen her caring nature before but not on this scale. 

 

Hyun-ju was a truly valuable ally. Protecting a woman she did not know and taking care of a child that wasn’t hers was almost unbelievable. Jun-hee was not used to this kind of selflessness. 

 

Why? Why, why, why? All her life Jun-hee had known people who were only concerned with their own needs. Selfish, each and every one of them. Hyun-ju, and all that she was, was incomprehensible. The woman did not fit in her worldview, and in her view of people in general. It was as refreshing as it was puzzling. Discomforting even. Jun-hee was forced to question her beliefs. 

 

Hyun-ju seemed like a genuinely good person. Why? Could a person truly be kind with no ulterior motive, no wish for anything in return?

 

She was not the only one. Mr. Seong had decided to help her as well. Against all odds there were two good people around her, people she could trust with her and her child. Since they’d not given any reason to doubt them, she wouldn’t. Instead she would be thankful for their help for as long as it was offered.

 

Everyone else seemed to be against her. Motherhood was as easy as being thrown into the deep end with no life jacket and no experience. The night had been hard, but the morning had been worse than anything she’d imagined. 

 

She knew she loved her child. She knew it with all her heart. However when the baby was crying for hours on end that love was put to the test, stretched thin from hardship. 

 

It was unbelievably difficult. Had Hyun-ju and Mr. Seong not been there for her, she might have gone insane. 

 

I still have allies. It was what kept her going. Not many, though. Their ‘team’, measly as it was, consisted of three people, and Jun-hee was the weakest one. Although yesterday that young man had given them his share of food, today he did nothing but stayed curled up in his bed with a pillow over his head. While not an ally, at least he hadn’t been a threat, not like all those angry men on the other side. 

 

So many of them. So, so many. 

 

And then there was Myung-gi. 

 

Myung-gi, who had done nothing. 

 

Nothing. 

 

It hurt. A rotten part of her heart that still held affection for him, despite him ignoring her and abandoning her countless times before, was unbelievably hurt. He promised. Jun-hee had given him the red vest because he’d promised. 

 

Myung-gi had promised he would find her, and protect her. And he never came. 

 

Like all times before, once again he let her down. 

 

After the scene in the dorms brought on by the baby’s crying for hours on end, Jun-hee felt even more like a fool. She had, despite the fact that he never approached her after the game, still hoped that he would take a stand of any kind, that he would protect her and their child. That he would show her that he cared, at least once. 

 

But no. 

 

While the men were threatening her, insults thrown like daggers against her as a person and as mother, while they were threatening to harm their child, Myung-gi had done nothing. He had sat there with that sad, conflicted expression that only disappeared when his eyes left Jun-hee.

 

They went to Hyun-ju, the woman who’d stood up for her, both verbally and physically. And what Jun-hee saw there made her skin crawl. 

 

Even Mr. Seong did not get that same glare. Myung-gi’s vitriol seemed to only be reserved for Hyun-ju. 

 

Jun-hee didn’t understand it. She knew her ex well enough that it couldn’t have been for something as surface level as prejudice, for the boy barely held any political convictions. Myung-gi’s distaste for Hyun-ju seemed personal.

 

Why? Why, why, why?

 

He had made the choice to abandon her when she needed him most. When help was offered it was suddenly a problem for him. 

 

Pathetic. So unbelievably pathetic. Jun-hee couldn’t stand him. 

 

Everything hurt. Her body and soul were a wreck, and she was tired of hurting. 

 

I’m tired. I’m so tired. 

 

“Hey, uh..” Jun-hee was brought out of her misery by movement coming from the bed. Hyun-ju was sitting up, the baby in her hold and one of her hands was rubbing her eyes, looking a little lost. “Sorry I fell asleep.”

 

Unbelievable woman. Apologising for something so insignificant after all she’d done for her. “I’m glad you got to nap. Both of you,” she said. At Hyun-ju’s responding huff, amused and visibly refreshed, Jun-hee felt the corners of her mouth tug up. It felt like a blessing, to be given reasons to smile in such a miserable place. 

 

“Did you look around the room?”

 

The question was unexpected. Jun-hee hadn’t thought of it. She shook her head, and watched as Hyun-ju stood up, carefully placing her child on the bed, and set to her task of searching the room they were given. 

 

Everything Hyun-ju did was purposeful, efficient. She had seemingly endless imagination when it came to finding solutions for their problems, like making ‘clothes’ for her and her baby from a single white sheet. Countless skills, and all of them used to better Jun-hee’s situation. 

 

Jun-hee was in awe. 

 

When Hyun-ju reached up to check the camera her shirt ran up just a little, displaying her bare skin, the small of her back visible. Jun-hee’s eyes slipped to it and remained there, transfixed. Only when her hand came back down and the shirt along with it could she look away. 

 

She felt embarrassed about it. The attention was weird. She was being weird. 

 

It’s not that weird. It was, a little bit. She has seen me naked, several times now. She tried to assure herself the behavior wasn’t strange but for some unknown reason it still brought shame. Looking down at her feet she brought her hand up to her ear, finding the skin there heated. The temperature in the room was mild at best, so it was a mystery as to why she felt feverish.

 

Sleep deprivation must be messing with her more than she thought. That’s all it was. 

 

Hyun-ju’s delighted gasp made her forget all about it. “Jun-hee, look!”

 

One of the drawers was open, and there were clothes. Small clothes. For a baby. 

 

Hyun-ju’s hand reached out to roll Jun-hee’s chair closer. They opened each drawer, finding more items meant for her child. There were clothes, a few diapers, and even a pacifier. “Someone out there must like you,” Hyun-ju said, smiling widely, making her whole face light up. The elation was contagious, spreading to Jun-hee as well. She looked up to the camera knowing someone must be watching. “Thank you.” 

 

As Jun-hee held up a tiny onesie, her stomach fell. It was not just clothes. Its coloring resembled a uniform, and there was number 457 written on the front. 

 

Hyun-ju caught it as well. “What..?”

 

Jun-hee swallowed, nerves alight. “Is this – some kind of a joke?” Hyun-ju asked, her tone disbelieving. “It must be.. right?”

 

With no explanation, Jun-hee nodded. “They must be bored,” she replied. “It’s just a joke.” It didn’t seem like one, but she forced herself to believe it. 

 

“They wouldn’t actually –?”

 

“No, no way.” Jun-hee refused to even consider such a foolish thing. 

 

Hyun-ju sighed, nodding. “You’re right. Sorry – I..” A hand came up to her face, fingertips tracing her eyebrow. “You’re right. It’s not possible. They’d be breaking their own rules,” she said, clearly trying to ease their minds. “They just have a weird sense of humor.”

 

Yes, that was it. They nodded at each other, agreeing, and dressed the child in the clothes they were given. A familiar knock was heard. Hyun-ju went to it. 

 

“The fifth game is starting soon. All players must proceed to the playing field.”

 

Hyun-ju gave a “wait here”, and then went out the door. When she returned Jun-hee saw her sweater in her hands. She was confused until Hyun-ju put her baby in it, and brought it up to Jun-hee, securing the cloth around her shoulder and waist. 

 

The closeness made her ears heat up again. Luckily her hair covered them, and she kept quiet while Hyun-ju was busy. 

 

She felt weird. Stop it. Only when Hyun-ju stepped away to a polite distance did Jun-hee feel like she could breathe again. Her hands went to her child, all bundled up in Hyun-ju’s sweater. Her fingers felt the material, surprisingly clean and dry. “I washed it, don’t worry,” Hyun-ju reassured her. 

 

When did she have time to do that? Where did she get her energy? “Thank you,” Jun-hee said instead of voicing those questions. The guard piped up again, annoying as it was. 

 

“Let’s go,” the woman said, helping her up. The familiar eerie music coming through the speakers made her skin crawl.

 

They went. 

I’m fucked. 

 

“Welcome to the fifth game. The game you will be playing is Jump Rope. You must cross the bridge as you jump over the rotating rope and get to the other side within twenty minutes. You may decide on the order amongst yourselves.”

 

Jun-hee sat on the bench, arms wrapped around her baby. 

 

A song was played for them.

 

“Knock, knock. Who is there? Your little friend. Come on in. Little friend, little friend, turn around.”

 

The metal rope creaked ominously with each swing, grating her ears, filling her with unfathomable dread as it came down, again and again.

 

“Little friend, little friend, touch the ground. Little friend, little friend, touch your toe. Little friend, little friend, now away you go.”

 

Jun-hee was going to die. She knew it. 

 

I’m so fucked. 

 

Mr. Seong was the first to break the silence that had fallen over since they’d got there. “The game will be over in twenty minutes,” he said, turning to Hyun-ju, whose face was unnaturally pale and her eyes unfocused, and her, who probably looked just as unnerved. “You can leave the baby here until then and then pick her up afterwards.” 

 

A guard appeared near them. “All players must make it across the bridge within the time limit.” The guard looked down at her child. “Any player who fails to cross the bridge within the time limit will be eliminated.”

 

What..?

 

What? 

 

Jun-hee couldn’t breathe. “My baby is not a player.”

 

The guard then said something that shattered her. “Everyone here is a player.”

 

No. 

 

No, no, no. 

 

The uniform had not been a joke. Or perhaps it was, and the joke was on her. Jun-hee should’ve known there could be no kindness without a hefty price. 

 

“No, she isn’t.”

 

Jun-hee looked up at Hyun-ju. Indignation was sown into every line of her face. “She can’t be a player,” she stated firmly. 

 

But it wasn’t up to them. 

 

“Everyone here is a –”

 

“It’s against the rules. It’s illegal.” Hyun-ju’s stance was defiant, but her tone was pleading. “Every, single, person –” she gestured to the people around the bridge, those who were too afraid to cross even with time ticking. “Every single one of us chose to be here. We signed a contract. She didn’t!”

 

Hyun-ju was right, and they knew it. But Jun-hee saw that they wouldn’t change their minds. 

 

“Everyone here is –”

 

“Aren’t you the ones that constantly talk about ‘fairness’ and ‘equality’. How exactly is this fair? There is no contract! She can’t fend for herself, can’t make decisions. She can’t vote!” Jun-hee’s breath caught when the guards pointed their guns at Hyun-ju, threatened by her. The woman was not discouraged. “This goes against your principles!” 

 

“She’s right,” Mr. Seong said, practically growling. “She’s right, and you know it.” His defence earned a gun pointed at him as well. 

 

They were surrounded. 

 

Two guards pressed closer to Hyun-ju, trapping her in the middle, their fingers on the trigger. A fourth one appeared in front of Jun-hee, and said “You made that choice,” its gun pointed at her baby. She turned her body to hide her from the line of fire. “You dressed her in the uniform. The mother made her choice.”

 

I didn’t know. I didn’t know, I didn’t know. 

 

It didn’t seem to matter that the uniform was the only baby clothes they were given. It didn’t seem to matter that they were not told what the price of putting them on would be. 

 

They knew that if they had, her baby would still be wrapped up in the sheet. 

 

Hyun-ju and Mr. Seong’s voices were drowned out by the screaming inside her head. The utter despair she felt choked her. 

 

I didn’t know. 

 

They tried to reason with them, but there was nothing that could be done. Their inhumanity knew no bounds. Like every single fight before, this was a fight they couldn’t win.  

 

I didn’t know. She did, and she didn’t. Her intuition had warned her about it, and she’d willingly ignored it. Because of it, she’d accursed her child. It was her fault. 

 

The clock ticked. Hyun-ju was sitting down on the floor, close to the edge, her back to her. She was motionless. Mr. Seong seemed conflicted, eyes flickering between Jun-hee and Hyun-ju, and then he gave a “be right back”, heading to Hyun-ju’s side. Left out of the conversation, Jun-hee just watched them. 

 

The robotic voice announced the death of a player. One down, and many to go. Jun-hee hoped her death would be quick so that she wouldn’t hear her announcement.

 

Mr. Seong returned to her side. Jun-hee’s eyes were still glued to Hyun-ju, who did not even turn to look in her direction. 

 

It hurt. Please don’t leave me. She could not ask for something like that. Not now, not ever. 

 

Please, look at me. Hyun-ju didn’t. 

 

Jun-hee felt her heart break further with each passing second the woman did not turn around. 

 

I didn’t know. They put the uniform on her together. Please don’t hate me. 

 

Please, please, please. 

 

Not even a glimpse in her direction. She swallowed the hurt, all of it, and turned to Mr. Seong, who was looking at the other players who had not crossed yet. She untied Hyun-ju’s sweater, and addressed him. “Ahjussi..” He looked at her. “Take my baby with you, please.”

 

Mr. Seong nodded, and then his head turned towards Hyun-ju again. Jun-hee didn’t know what they’d discussed, but the man seemed to have come to a decision. 

 

He took her child, wrapping the sweater as it had been around her. 

 

Her baby with the number 457 on her tummy and 120 on her back. Hyun-ju had still not moved. “I’ll get the baby to the other side,” he stated. “Hyun-ju will help you.”

 

The statement made a flicker of hope, like a flame in the wind, light up inside her. Until she looked at her again, and knew Mr. Seong was lying. The flame had died, only smoke remaining. 

 

“I can do it myself,” she insisted. Her voice betrayed her lack of faith in her statement. 

 

“You can’t with that leg.” He was right. “Hyun-ju will help you, I promise.” 

 

He was wrong. 

 

Not wanting to waste any more time arguing, she nodded. He stepped away. 

 

With bated breath, and her heart lodged in her throat, she watched as he stepped on the platform. She prayed to a god she didn’t believe in, over and over as Mr. Seong made his way across with her baby. 

 

The universe must’ve been on their side – or his – because he eventually got to the end. Her baby made it. Jun-hee’s lungs burned as she finally took in a breath after holding it all this time. 

 

She’s fine. She’s alive. 

 

Her gaze went back to Hyun-ju, who hadn’t moved from her spot. 

 

She felt betrayed even though Hyun-ju owed her nothing. She had already helped her a lot. Too much, in fact. There was no reason to be upset. So what if she was ignoring her? It’s not like she held any responsibility. 

 

I thought we were friends. 

 

Friendship turned to dust when one’s life was on the line. Jun-hee turned away from her, ignoring the hurt and the built up tears from it, and went to the bench. The attempt to jump was futile. She would never make it across. 

 

Both disheartened and accepting of that fact, she sat back down and watched as a scuffle broke out when one of the players refused to move from the finish line, not letting the others pass. It didn't matter to her, since she would not make it anyway. Jun-hee will die here. 

 

She looked at the number on Hyun-ju’s back, the same number that was wrapped around her baby. She hoped Hyun-ju would make it. 

 

Please, look at me. 

 

Please, please, please. A goodbye, even in the form of a glance, was the least Hyun-ju could give her. Jun-hee was hoping for something. Anything. 

 

A figure appeared at her side. Myung-gi, with his teary doe eyes, was looking down at her. “Jun-hee, let’s go. We’ve got to go before it’s too late.”

 

Oh, now he’s decided to come around? Jun-hee was not having it. Looking away from him, her eyes once again on Hyun-ju, she refused. 

 

“Are you just going to sit here and die?” He asked, disbelief written all over him. 

 

All the anger, the hurt, the betrayal had built up, and she lashed out. “You promised!” She ground out, pointing at him. “You promised you’d find me, and you didn’t!” 

 

“I was trying to find you!” His defence was weaker than her broken leg. She scoffed, looking away from him. “I was!”

 

“But you didn’t!” 

 

Myun-gi’s eyes shone with tears, head down in shame. Jun-hee carried on. “You said you’d find me, but you didn’t. And – and after –” She hiccuped, the tears now appearing as well. “You didn’t come to me – didn’t protect me, or her – you – you did –” Shit. Jun-hee’s face felt wet. She was hysterical, a wounded animal. “You did nothing!” 

 

Her ex-boyfriend was crying, just like her. “I know I – I messed up, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jun-hee.” He wiped his sleeve across his face. “I’ll be better. I will –”

 

Jun-hee did not believe him, not for one second. She scoffed again. “God –”

 

“I want to protect you and the baby. I’m not just thinking of myself here – I want to get out of here and start a new life together.”

 

“You weren’t –” She stopped for a shaky breath, and brought up her shirt, wiping her face with it. “You weren’t there when I needed you the most.” She looked back up at him, and hated everything she saw. “I don’t need you now.”

 

Myung-gi was not backing down either. “We have to get out and live, Jun-hee. I’ll help you.”

 

How? Jun-hee’s hand went to her tracksuit pants and pulled up slightly to reveal the messed up state of her ankle. She watched as Myung-gi’s lips trembled at the sight that greeted him. 

 

“What will you do, carry me?” It was physically possible, but Jun-hee had no faith in him. It was a risk he would never, ever take. Not for her, and not for her child. “Can you do that?” She added, knowing his cowardly nature would not dare to even attempt it. 

 

Myung-gi stood there, tears slipping down his face. His silence only affirmed what she’d already believed. “That baby is mine. The baby has nothing to do with trash like you. We never want to see you again, not even in our dreams.” 

 

The man wiped his face, and then looked at her. His sympathy seemed to have faded along with his tears, and now there was nothing but aversion. 

 

“She will not save you this time,” he said, the corners of his lips turned downwards. Jun-hee knew who he was referring to, and knew he was right. Just this once. 

 

Hyun-ju was still sitting close to the edge, far away from her. 

 

Her fate was sealed. But she would not go down begging for scraps. She doesn’t need him, she doesn’t need anyone. 

 

“I don’t need saving,” she stated. Myung-gi stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes displaying everything and nothing, and then turned away. He left her there once again, sitting alone on the bench. 

 

Somehow, even after all he’d done to her, she still felt disappointed in him. Maybe a part of her said those words to see if he could stand his ground and prove himself for once. The victory from knowing she’d been right about his wimpiness tasted bitter on her tongue. 

 

Snot-nosed coward. Pathetic, so utterly pathetic. Perhaps he’d been that way all along, and it was Jun-hee’s infatuation that made her delusional, made her build up some version of him which had never existed. 

 

Time was running out. Hyun-ju still hadn’t crossed. 

 

What are you waiting for? Go!

 

At last, the woman’s head turned towards her. What she saw in that pale, serious face confused her. Hyun-ju looked determined as she stood up, taking steps towards the bench. 

 

A goodbye, maybe? Jun-hee’s confusion didn’t fade as Hyun-ju crouched in front of her, looking at her leg. 

 

“Let’s go.” Was the first thing she’d said, after all the silence. 

 

“What..?”

 

“Time’s running out. Let’s go,” Hyun-ju repeated, her hands briefly going behind her head to tighten the ponytail.

 

“I thought..” Jun-hee couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

 

She’s not really going to.. ?

 

Hyun-ju had spent a while – too long – watching as others made their way to the other side. Her mind ran a thousand miles a minute while she tried to figure out how exactly she was going to get Jun-hee to safety. She looked at the players flung over, at the players who’d succeeded, at Mr. Seong’s wide eyes and nervous pacing. 

 

There was a problem. It was an issue of hers. 

 

She was afraid of heights. 

 

It was not a debilitating fear but it was still a weakness, one she had not learnt to overcome no matter how hard she tried. They were so far up from the ground the sight made her dizzy, made the nausea build in her stomach. Like a washing machine in its last stage, everything inside her rattled and turned over, and over, and over. 

 

But there was no other way. After their failed attempt to revoke the child’s status as a player, Mr. Seong had come over to her, and they’d discussed the plan. He would go with the baby, and Hyun-ju would take Jun-hee. 

 

“Are you sure?” The man asked. Worried, nervous. 

 

“Yes,” Hyun-ju responded. “I’ll do my part. Now go do yours, mister.” 

 

Mr. Seong nodded, and went to Jun-hee. He did his part, as promised. 

 

Now it was her turn.

 

She did not only stare at the players. Hyun-ju’s eyes went everywhere, analysing everything. Unfortunately the speed of which the rope came down only increased with time. 

 

Time, which they were running out of. 

 

Now Jun-hee looked like she was all apart. Had Mr. Seong not told her of the plan? 

 

The clock ticked on, but Hyun-ju focused only on the matter at hand. “So, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll carry you across on my shoulders. But since my view will be limited you’ll have to let me know when to jump.” 

 

Jun-hee seemed frozen, her mouth open and brows furrowed. “Shoulders.. what –?”

 

It was the best way. Hyun-ju had thought about it for a long time. “Bridal carry or piggyback is too risky. The weight will not be distributed well enough, and I might lose the balance and we’ll fall to our deaths. So, over the shoulders is the best option. That way you’ll be like – an extension.. of me. ” 

 

The young woman made no movement to get on with it. The clock ticking sounded like bombs set off. “Okay?” She asked, hoping for any sort of sign that Jun-hee agreed with the plan. 

 

“Okay..” 

 

It was good enough. “Great!” She said, trying to sound encouraging. She was scared to death. “Let’s go.”

 

Jun-hee still looked lost, but Hyun-ju had no time to pay any mind to it. Once Jun-hee was across her shoulders, secured with both of Hyun-ju's hands holding her, she went up to the platform.

 

“Let’s practice, shall we?” Just as she guessed, she could not turn her head very well, and Jun-hee was blocking the view of her right side anyway. Their survival was dependent on the success of their teamwork. 

 

“Say ‘jump’, and I will. Then we can see how long it takes me, and go off that.” Jun-hee did, and there was a 1.5 second delay between her command and Hyun-ju’s feet in the air. She was already out of breath, and the hard part was still ahead. 

 

“We can do it,” she said, her voice shaking. God, she was so scared. “We can.”

 

“Yes,” she heard from her right side. “You can do it.” It was just what she needed to hear. 

 

You can do it. Hyun-ju let the words echo in her head, wiping out all else, giving her courage for what comes next. “I’ll follow your every word. Give me the green light, and we’ll go.”

 

With shaky legs and lungs lacking air, she looked at the other side. The platform seemed miles long even though she knew it wasn’t. 

 

All those years of strenuous training, of carrying men twice – no – three – four – times the weight of the young woman had prepared her for this moment, and this only. 

 

Don’t look over the edge. 

 

Hyun-ju wouldn’t. She would make sure her eyes would focus on nothing but the platform. A single moment of hesitation could cost them their lives. 

 

Don’t pass out. Her vision was filled with stars, stomach turning and threatening to come out of her throat. She swallowed it down, bracing herself.

 

“Go!”

 

Hyun-ju went. She took one, two, three steps. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Hyun-ju jumped, her feet up in the air. Back on the ground, she took two steps. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Again, she jumped. On that platform, in that wretched game, she was not a person, but a machine. Hyun-ju would do nothing but follow Jun-hee’s voice. Either to death, or to safety. 

 

“Jump!”

 

They were close to the centre. Hyun-ju saw the gaping hole in the middle, an ominous presence. At another command she jumped, her feet landing right in front of it. 

 

She’d spent a long time watching, preparing herself for it, but coming face-to-face with the broken off platform was a different beast altogether. 

 

“Jump!”

 

She jumped, landing right where she was. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Again, she was at the same place, her toes close to the edge. 

 

I can’t do this. 

 

Fuck. It was not the time for a breakdown. 

 

But the height seemed endless, and the hole seemed to stretch and widen, the other side even further than it’d been before. The fear was messing with her vision, and she couldn’t move forward. 

 

“Jump!”

 

I have to do this. 

 

Hyun-ju heard Jun-hee’s growing panic as she repeated that one word. She was thankful she didn’t say anything else. She refocused, and jumped in place once more. 

 

Focus. Deep breath. In and out. “Jump!”

 

Hyun-ju did, her legs stretched out. The ground flew by in less than a second, and suddenly her feet were on the other side. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Shit. Hyun-ju could not move. 

 

“Jump! Jump!” 

 

The rope almost at her calves, she finally did. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Jun-hee’s yell was shaky, sounding close to tears. 

 

Go! Go, go, go! 

 

Landing back on the platform, she took two steps forward. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Jun-hee seemed to have multiplied, her voice coming from every direction. There was a chorus of ‘Jump!’s, coming from beside her and in front of her. 

 

A lone “Jump!” came from someone that was not Jun-hee. It threw her off for a moment, making her unsteady on her feet.

 

“Jump!” The right voice told her, and she did. 

 

So close. They were so close. 

 

“Jump!”

 

Hyun-ju did, for the last time, and then took two long steps, her feet landing on the other side and to safety. 

 

There was vague awareness of cheers coming from the people in front of them. Her lungs burned as she tried to get air. Sweat dripped from her face onto her shirt, and every muscle in body burned from effort. 

 

But they were safe. They made it.

 

“Player 222, pass. Player 120, pass.” 

 

They made it. 

 

We made it. 

 

All strength left her, and she dropped onto the ground. Jun-hee was brought along with her, and she was mindful of it enough to slip her down to her side at the last moment. 

 

“Hyun-ju!” Jun-hee was lit up in a way Hyun-ju had never seen before. Jun-hee’s body radiated heat, so close, warm and alive, her delicate hands cradling her face. As blinding as the sun, and just as hot to touch. “My god – oh my god! You did it! You did it!”

 

She wanted to embrace her, to share that happiness, but her arms refused to work, and her stomach was still turning. 

 

“Thank you, unnie. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

 

Thank you, Jun-hee, was what she would’ve said in response, if her nausea hadn’t increased to the point it became unbearable, warm saliva flooding her mouth as a last warning. She nodded, and then tried to spare her friend from the inevitable, gently pushing her away and off of her. 

 

Turning her head, eyes off the edge and vision filled with countless mangled bodies laying dead on the ground so far down, down, down, Hyun-ju lost the battle with her stomach, and threw up. It wasn’t much since there was no food in her stomach, and barely lasted more than a few seconds. It still burned like a fucker. Fortunately, once it was out of her, she felt better. 

 

A lot better. 

 

She felt invigorated, in fact. After a few more coughs she brought the end of her shirt up to her mouth, wiping whatever was left there.

 

“Are you okay?” The young woman asked, eyes all over her. Hyun-ju offered a smile, deeply touched by her concern. 

 

“Much better,” Hyun-ju assured her. “I should’ve done that before, actually,” she laughed, now at ease. Jun-hee shook her head in disbelief, lips parted and brows furrowed, but then let out a huff, a hint of a smile appearing, mirroring hers. 

 

The game was over. Against all odds, they made it. 

 

Jun-hee is safe. She’s alive, her baby’s alive. 

 

Hyun-ju couldn’t have asked for any better outcome. 

When her heartbeat had steadied, and her skin cooled to a bearable temperature, Hyun-ju became aware of the fact that her right shoulder, parts of her back, and even her arm was soaked through. Although she’d sweat a lot, the placement was so odd it was befuddling. 

 

Jun-hee was at her side, the baby back in her hold as they took slow steps down the stairs. Mr. Seong was a few steps below them. Along with the wetness there was also a strange smell, overwhelming in its sweetness, albeit not unpleasant. Hyun-ju turned to look at her shoulder, breathing through her nose, confused as hell. It was familiar, but she just couldn’t place it.

 

“I’m sorry.” The apology, so small it was almost inaudible, came from Jun-hee. She did not look up at her. “I.. It must have – leaked..” 

 

The confusion remained, until it finally caught up to her. Breastmilk, obviously. She was surprised by her own stupidity. Was her brain left on standby after the game? 

 

With that realization she finally noticed Jun-hee’s hand over her breast. It did not cover the dark spot. “Don’t mind,” she said, and then heard a small hiss from her companion as they took another step down. Jun-hee looked tormented, clutching at her chest. “It’s perfectly normal.. right?”

 

Jun-hee nodded, looking up at her briefly, before her eyes went back down. “It is.. but – “ The girl hissed again, eyebrows furrowed. “It hurts. A lot, actually.”

 

Mr. Seong suddenly stopped, and turned to them. Since he was hindering their path, they stopped as well. Hyun-ju saw how his eyes went from Jun-hee’s face down to her breast, the one not hidden by her child. Had he looked anything but utterly serious Hyun-ju would’ve thought he was a pervert. “Feed your daughter, and then try to pump,” was what he said, before turning away and continuing the walk. 

 

Jun-hee turned to her, her bewildered expression likely mirroring her own. Uh.. okay? 

 

“My wife – ex-wife – had mastitis. It caused her a lot of pain,” he explained. Perplexion faded and Jun-hee became serious as well. She asked him about it. 

 

In this place it was not very common to talk about one’s life before. Some did, but the bits of information were rare, especially since in most cases a lot of trust was required. Trust they didn’t have time to build. 

 

Mr. Seong had always been closed off, especially when it came to his personal life. In just a half a day Hyun-ju had learnt more about him than all previous combined. And what she’d learnt made her soft towards him, building confidence that had not been there before, at least not like this. 

 

Their journey down finished, he turned towards them again. “Check for lumps,” he said, to both of them. 

 

They nodded, and turned away with the intention of going to the bathroom. Of course, they were stopped once more. 

 

“All players must return to the dorm immediately.” 

 

Hyun-ju wanted to roll her eyes, but held it back. Seriously? Did they have to do this every damn time?

 

Mr. Seong seemed to be on the same page, standing defensively between them and the guards. “They need to go.” 

 

“All players –”

 

The old man was not having it. “Are you fucking stupid? Did your brains trickle out of your ass?” He said, his voice down to not wake the baby but still angry enough to be a threat. 

 

“Player 456, control yourself –”

 

It was the wrong thing to say, since it seemed Mr. Seong had recovered from his depressive state, and now was set aflame, full of defiant rage once again. He got out a few more curses and insults before the guards had enough, and tried to subdue him. With great difficulty. 

 

While the guards dealt with the once again rogue player, Hyun-ju and Jun-hee had taken small steps in an attempt to get away without being noticed.

 

They were. One of them came to them, but he was not pointing his gun, so they kept walking. For once he said nothing, just followed them ominously.

 

They stopped by the room they’d been given before, and Hyun-ju grabbed everything just in case they wouldn’t be let in it again. In the bathroom they tried to be as time-efficient as possible, but the baby has no such concerns. She was upset, screaming for any and all reasons. The lack of supplies was heartbreaking but they made it work.

 

Multitasking was unavoidable, as bad of a strategy as it was. Jun-hee was sitting in one of the stalls, feeding her child while Hyun-ju tore up one of the diapers to make necessary items for the mother. 

 

Nothing was easy. 

 

She took a small moment to herself, even tried to wash off as well as she could, given everything. “I would kill for a toothbrush,” she mumbled, rinsing her mouth. She felt disgusting. They were all disgusting, the men stinking like landfill mixed with a pigfarm. 

 

“Yes,” Jun-hee agreed tiredly, leaning back on the toilet. 

 

Jun-hee shuffled back to the sinks, and handed the baby to her. Hyun-ju let the newborn be bare in her sweater for a little while. They would dress her before going out since they were not given more than a handful of diapers. Being forced to ration every damn thing was incredibly frustrating.

 

The wall was suddenly endlessly fascinating as Jun-hee bent over the sink, her breasts bare with one in hand, trying to squeeze out the built-up milk. Hyun-ju tried to focus on anything but the sounds of pained relief that came from her mouth. It was difficult. 

 

Her rational mind knew she was being ridiculous, and borderline creepy. She was worried for Jun-hee, but the sounds. 

 

The goddamn sounds.

 

Hyun-ju might have died and gone to hell after all. 

 

Don’t think about it. 

 

“Ah – shit – ngh – ”

 

Don’t you dare think about it. 

 

Her eyes did not stray from the wall. 

 

“Unnie –”

 

May god herself strike her down.

 

Her face was burning, but she managed to find her voice. “Uh –” Not very coherent. “What’s wrong, Jun-hee?” She asked, not daring to look. 

 

“Can you help me? I – I don’t know what I’m looking – for –”

 

Hyun-ju finally turned to her. Jun-hee was cupping her breast, looking completely distraught, her face pink from exasperation. It immediately sobered her. She put the baby in the sink beside the one Jun-hee stood in front of, and went to her side. Not too close. 

 

“Just - uh – try to see if anything feels weird,” was her suggestion. 

 

Jun-hee groaned. “Everything feels weird,” was her response, both a groan and a sob. “Feel it,” she added, taking a hold of her hand.

 

Okay. 

 

Shit. 

 

“Are you sure?” She asked. Jun-hee nodded, jaw clenched. The hand not in Jun-hee’s grip was visibly trembling.  

 

“Please.”

 

Deep breaths, in and out. “Okay.. okay. Put your arm up,” she said, and once Jun-hee did she brought her fingers to the heated flesh, pressing slightly upon it. It did feel strange, much more solid than it’s supposed to be. Fortunately Hyun-ju did know a few things about this particular concern. 

 

Trying to feel out any anomalies, she broke the silence. “My mother struggled a lot with tumors,” she said, as a way to distract them both. Whether it was actually awkward, or if she was projecting, she wasn’t sure. “Some of them were benign.”

 

Jun-hee looked up at her, seemingly at ease even though what Hyun-ju was doing could technically be considered fondling. 

 

It’s not like that. 

 

It wasn’t. It was a part of sisterhood nobody had prepared her for. No instructions were given on how to handle such an intimate act as gracefully as possible. Her intentions weren’t malicious, she wasn’t doing anything Jun-hee hadn’t asked her to do. She was just helping out. 

 

She still felt weird about it. In the past twenty-four hours, many physical boundaries were crossed because of health concerns. It didn’t matter that Jun-hee was an objectively attractive woman, Hyun-ju would’ve felt flustered regardless of her looks. It was just the situation. So much trust, so much contact. Hyun-ju felt like an exposed nerve, every thought and feeling amplified from adrenaline. They’d just survived another game thanks to Jun-hee’s conviction, her belief. They had become friends. Jun-hee was her friend. 

 

I have a friend. Nothing was as valuable as that. 

 

“And the others?” Jun-hee’s voice brought her back to the matter at hand.

 

Hyun-ju sighed. “Cancerous,” she replied, and asked Jun-hee to raise her right arm. She went through the motions again, trying to keep the contact as brief as possible. 

 

“Is.. did she –?”

 

Hyun-ju shook her head. “She’s okay.” At least she hoped she was. Her mother’s scorn was somehow worse than her father’s. After she’d sent her away many years ago, Hyun-ju had not seen her. 

 

Dishonor. Disappointment. You have brought shame to your family.

 

They stripped her of all connection to them, including the family name. She had no kin, no blood ties. 

 

Jun-hee’s chest was definitely troubling, but at least Hyun-ju could not discern any foreboding lumps. “I can’t find anything, but I’m also not a doctor,” she said, taking her hands away. 

 

The sigh that left Jun-hee, both relieved and tired, echoed in the bathroom. Leaning on her elbows over the sink, she shared her woes. “I feel like shit. Everything hurts. I’m wet, leaking – from every damn – shit –” She made a noise of despair. “And now I have to put on those same pants I’ve already bled through – ”

 

The frustration itself was very understandable, although Hyun-ju was a little surprised by the outburst. From what she’d seen Jun-hee was quite stoic, opting to stay silent most of the time. But it was about time, given everything she’s gone through. 

 

“Yeah..” Hyun-ju didn’t know what else to say. Maybe Jun-hee just needed to vent. “It’s shit. I’m sorry.”

 

The little outburst had faded, and Jun-hee spared her a small, sad smile. “Thank you, unnie. For everything.”

 

Hyun-ju’s cheeks felt heated once more, and she tried to hide it, turning away slightly. “Ah – no need –”

 

A knock on the door. 

 

With weary sighs, they dressed Jun-hee, and then the baby. Jun-hee patted her chest, checking the padding that Hyun-ju had made so the leaking wouldn’t be as visible, and then they went out. 

 

The dorm looked hauntingly empty. There were only a few beds left. Hyun-ju was happy to see that they hadn’t separated hers and Jun-hee’s. Mr. Seong was sulking, but not chained to his bed, to their astonishment.

 

As they sat on the bed, tired and hungry, they watched as the man went to the guards, talked to them for a little, and then came to them. “We have a few hours of downtime. You should try to sleep, and save your energy.” 

 

It was a good suggestion. They were sitting side-by-side, and both sagging from exhaustion. “I can look after her for a while,” he offered. Jun-hee agreed to the deal, trying and failing to hide her yawns, and handed her over. Mr. Seong went away. 

 

The dorm was blissfully quiet. An opportunity to rest was not one they would pass on.

After the short nap they sat on the bed, waiting for what would come next. Like all days before, they were once again given the results. 

 

The lights up above turned on to display the glass piggypank above their heads. It was almost full. As the guard's voice rang out, informing them of how many were left and the prize so far accumulated, including each players’ share, Jun-hee sat still, trying to do the math in her head. There was more money left than should be. The men had noticed that as well. 

 

“Why are there eleven players left?” A man, player 039, asked. “There’s ten.” Another had piped up at that, agreeing with the number. His whiny voice grated her ears.  

 

“Players 039, 100, 120, 124, 203, 222, 333, 336, 353, 456, and 457. Eleven players have survived.”

 

“Hold on – player 457?” The old man, player 100 asked. “Who is that?”

 

The remaining players were finally given the memo. Jun-hee knew exactly who the additional ‘player’ was. 

 

“An unexpected addition to the games. The prize money has been raised accordingly.” Confused silence followed. “Player 457 is right there,” the square said, pointing at Jun-hee. 

 

She pressed her daughter against her chest, awaiting inevitable outrage. She heard a small exhale come from the bed beside hers. Hyun-ju looked worn-down. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

 

“Are you saying that baby is player 457?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense. A newborn baby is a player all of a sudden?”

 

It didn’t. It didn’t make an ounce of sense. And yet that’s what the council had decided. 

 

The guard affirmed the question. 

 

More restless movement from the other side. “So, all of a sudden we have more money to win? When the baby is eliminated, the prize goes up?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And whoever has that baby, the money will go to them?” A different man asked, player 039. His squinty eyes made it clear that the question did not come from any concern for her child. 

 

Her blood ran cold. What? She looked at Mr. Seong, and then turned to Hyun-ju. If their looks could kill the man would’ve dropped dead on the spot.  

 

“Yes,” the square told them. 

 

What? Her lungs felt tight. She couldn’t breathe. 

 

Mr. Seong stood up. “The child belongs to her mother. Only she can claim the prize for her.”

 

“While we acknowledge the familial tie, 457 is an individual player.”

 

Mr. Seong took steps towards the guards, visibly enraged. “You’ve made a baby a damn target! She is a defenseless child! How is that fair?”

 

The rifles were held up towards Mr. Seong. They always seemed to be, and yet no shots fired. “Player 456, control yourself.”

 

“Explain yourselves! How is that fair? How the fuck is that just?” His outrage earned him the smack of a gun. But she had no time to worry for him, because the men on the other side had all stood up, and were heading towards her. 

 

So many pairs of eyes, all full of hate. Jun-hee instinctively inched closer to Hyun-ju, tightening the hold on her daughter who was crying hysterically. Even though Hyun-ju was on guard, shadowing her and her baby, Jun-hee couldn’t breathe. 

 

Their pace increased, and their demands with it. “Give me that damn kid!”

 

“Hand it over –!”

 

Jun-hee squeezed her eyes shut, pressing herself up against Hyun-ju’s back. “Unnie –” she sobbed, although she didn’t even know what she was asking of her. Her friend could not fight them all. 

 

“I won’t let them through,” she heard, Hyun-ju’s voice determined, and saw her hand reach back towards the pillow, where Jun-hee knew she kept the knife. 

 

“Stand back,” Hyun-ju said to the men. 

 

They did not. “Give it here!” 

 

A gunshot rang out, making her jump. The room was quiet except for her daughter’s terrified crying. 

 

“Physical violence between players will no longer be allowed. It is our intention to give every player a fair chance. Please cooperate.”

 

A fair chance. Mr. Seong was right. There was no fairness, no real equality. They were pulling shit out of their asses. 

 

Jun-hee panted against Hyun-ju’s back, trying to catch her breath. The situation had de-escalated, and the men’s displeased grumbles came from further away. 

 

Only then she noticed the arm not wrapped around her daughter was around Hyun-ju’s waist, her fingers practically digging into the skin. The fear now gone, embarrassment took over. “Sorry –” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She must’ve looked as pathetic as she felt. 

 

Hyun-ju did not seem to care for it, more worried about her and her baby’s wellbeing. Jun-hee tried to hide her embarrassment by rocking her daughter, her wails slowly reduced to small hiccups. Jun-hee spared a glance to her left, bypassing Mr. Seong, and settling on Myung-gi. While she was unsurprised that he hadn’t even stood up to defend their child, she was caught off guard by his hateful glare. It was not for her, however. 

 

Hyun-ju. 

 

Again. 

 

Back off, she thought, hoping the message went through. The brief look she got in return did not ease her mind, because it went right back to Hyun-ju, and remained fixed on her. 

 

Jun-hee hated him more than anyone. 

 

The doors opened wide once more, and more guards came through, holding a parcel each. They came bearing gifts, apparently. One ‘gift’ was smaller than the others. 

 

They waited until the men had taken their assigned boxes, and then went up as well. Mr. Seong was waiting near the guards, his watchful eyes on the men on the other side. Jun-hee tried not to cry out from the pain radiating from her ankle, which seemed to have its own heartbeat. Her everything hurt. She wished the agony would stop for just a moment. 

 

Hyun-ju’s arm tightened around her, helping her keep the pressure off her foot. Jun-hee was once again left wondering how she got so lucky with a friend like her. 

 

There weren’t enough arms free to carry the boxes. The guards refused to give them to Mr. Seong at first, but then gave in. After many, many threats. 

 

“They’re suits,” Mr. Seong said, peeking into one of the boxes.

 

Suits? Hope reared its head. “New clothes?” She asked, looking up at Hyun-ju, who looked a little happier as well.

 

Finally. She wished she could burn the ones she was wearing now. 

 

Mr. Seong called over one of the guards, and ordered it to take the three ones on top. The guard stood still, arms limp by its side, and then turned around to look at the others like a dog to its masters. Amusing to witness, pathetic to look at. “Each player will carry their own gift.”

 

Mr. Seong scoffed. “They can’t, can they? And what about the baby, huh? Will she ‘carry her gift’ as well?”

 

A fair question, and their silence proved it. His scolding made them quiet. “Take it, you moron,” he huffed at the one in front of them, who took it without further arguments, and turned away. Mr. Seong’s glare drilled holes into the back of its head like he wanted to smack it. If Jun-hee could, she would. They’d irritated her beyond belief, and the bright pink was an eyesore. 

 

There were no other ‘commands’ given as the three of them were left to handle themselves in the bathroom, and then taken to the same room they’d been in this morning. The baby was fussy again, and they couldn’t figure out why. She was changed and Jun-hee’d just fed her. She didn’t like the pacifier either, spitting it out and turning her head away when Jun-hee offered it to her. 

 

She was so, so, so tired. 

 

The only respite came from her friend, who now held her instead. Hyun-ju seemed to have endless patience, rocking her and murmuring sweet nothings. It made her wonder if Hyun-ju had ever taken care of small children as the crying turned to hiccups and then faded altogether. She watched them together while sprawled out on the bed. She couldn’t even muster enough energy to sit up. 

 

A small noise resembling a coo came from her daughter, responding so delightfully to Hyun-ju’s attention. She felt her mouth stretch into a smile. A huff of laughter came from the woman who’d managed to cheer her up. 

 

She thought of Geum-ja, who she knew would’ve been there to support them if she could’ve. She missed her, and knew Hyun-ju did too. 

 

So many of their friends were dead. She missed them. I miss her. 

 

The pain of loss was great, but she couldn’t linger on it, so she recentered her focus. It was of no use to think about it now. She’ll grieve once she makes it out alive. 

 

Practicality overshadowed all wonderings. There was a target on her daughter’s back, and on them as well. How exactly they would make it out alive, Jun-hee did not know. But as she looked at her friend – no – her sister – because the title ‘friend’ didn’t feel like it encompassed everything Hyun-ju had become for her, she knew she would, as long as Hyun-ju would remain by her side.

 

“Come here. Rest,” she said, patting the duvet, wanting them on the bed alongside her. Hyun-ju looked at the boxes instead, and sighed.

 

Another knock on the door. No time for rest was given. 

 

“Five minutes, please,” Hyun-ju called out softly, and then put the baby down. Irked by the incessant noise, Jun-hee sat up, and opened her box as well. 

 

Jun-hee tried to keep her eyes from wandering but it was of no use. Hyun-ju’s body snuck into her field of vision, even with her head down in an attempt to give her some privacy. The woman had seen her naked several times now, but she’d barely seen any of her in return. The sight of her naked back, muscles shifting as she brought her shirt and bra over her head in one quick movement, brought on a mixture of strange feelings once more. 

 

Hyun-ju was shaped nicely, everything in its right place. Lean but strong. Jun-hee felt envious of her strength. Her body, sagging and mangled as it was after birth, felt inferior. It felt like such a long time since she’d been anything but a lumbering sack of meat. Once upon a time she’d been fairly athletic, able to run and move as she wished. Now she couldn’t even walk. 

 

She missed her body as it was before. She missed the way it looked, and the way it felt. Now she was weak and useless, constantly in need of protection, just like her day old baby. A burden. A bleeding, milk-leaking burden. 

 

“Jun-hee, are you okay?” 

 

Hyun-ju had turned towards her, and was now looking at her with concern. Unfortunately her dress shirt was only buttoned halfway, and suddenly Jun-hee couldn’t say a single word. Her eyes were not only caught by Hyun-ju’s chest, but her long, lean legs as well. 

 

Such much leg. The trousers seemed tailor-fit, tight in all the right places.

 

Wow. 

 

Jun-hee was flung right out of her pity pit. Forgot all about it. It seemed she’d forgotten everything, actually. 

 

“Is everything alright?” 

 

No. No, it isn’t. Jun-hee swallowed, her ears burning, and then nodded. “You look good,” she said, and hid her face by taking off her own shirt. 

 

Once it was off she saw that Hyun-ju was almost fully dressed, buttoning the sleeves. “You think so?” 

 

If it had come from anyone else Jun-hee would’ve thought they were fishing for compliments. But Hyun-ju looked genuinely unsure, borderline sad even. “You look great, unnie. You really do.” Amazing, actually. 

 

A quick glance in her direction, complimented by a slight blush appearing on Hyun-ju’s cheekbones, was given to her in response. Hopefully Hyun-ju would not think she was weird. Jun-hee assured herself it wasn’t an odd thing to say. Friends compliment each other all the time. 

 

“Thank you, Jun-hee.” Such a soft voice, and a pretty smile to go along with it. “Not my preferred choice of clothing but at least they’re clean, yeah?” Hyun-ju added, tone light but Jun-hee could hear, and see, the discomfort. 

 

“Oh..” She had not considered that Hyun-ju would feel uncomfortable with the attire. “Sorry about that.” 

 

Hyun-ju shrugged in response. “Ah, yeah. We’re – you know – all so equal here,” she huffed. 

 

Jun-hee couldn’t help but roll her eyes, huffing as well. Equality, what a joke. “They’re so full of shit.” Hyun-ju’s smile remained as she agreed, tying the tie into a bow. Jun-hee then realized she was already leaking through the new sports bra that had come along the suit.

 

Oh, come on. “Do you have any more –” 

 

“Yeah, give me a moment.” 

 

Maybe they were on the same wavelength, because Hyun-ju went to make some makeshift pads for her. Or maybe she’d just seen her wet boobs. 

 

Touched them, too. 

 

Jun-hee tried to shut that thought down as soon as it appeared but it was of no use. Now that the excruciating pain and the worry for her health had faded, she remembered Hyun-ju’s hands on her. So careful, so warm. 

 

She felt warm now too, for some reason. Her heartbeat was way too loud. 

 

Stop it. Her friend had – once again – helped her out in her time of need. That’s all it was. She was the one being unreasonably weird about it. 

 

With Hyun-ju’s help they got Jun-hee’s suit pants on. Clothed, padded, she sat back down, and looked at the tie. Never before had she worn one, so she had no idea how to tie the bow. Not wanting to look like an idiot, she asked her friend to do it. 

 

It might’ve been a mistake. Hyun-ju was close, too close. It wasn’t that she minded, the opposite really, but it didn’t at all help with the odd, embarrassing thoughts she’s been having. At the very least, she hoped she didn’t smell as bad as she thought she did. Hyun-ju showed no signs of discomfort, fully focused on the matter at hand. 

 

A bath, or even a shower, that’s what she needed. “A spa day,” she sighed, keeping her eyes glued to Hyun-ju’s cheek. The closeness made it hard to breathe, and difficult to keep eye contact. “That would be perfect.”

 

Hyun-ju gave one last look at her collar, and stepped away. “You should definitely go, once you get out of here,” she said, offering a brief smile before bending down to tie the laces of her dress shoes. 

 

The suggestion was good, but when Jun-hee mulled it over in her head, it just didn’t seem right. Something was missing. Let’s go together. She was about to say so, but then shut her mouth. Hyun-ju had a life of her own. There was no obligation of friendship in the outside world. Just because she’d been by her side here didn’t mean she wanted to have anything to do with her or her daughter once the games were over. 

 

Jun-hee would not put her in that position. She could hear her rejection in her mind, knew it would be soft-spoken and compassionate, would not be an outright ‘no’. The imagined rejection stung, and so the question was never asked. Those things didn’t matter right now, anyway. They still had to survive the last game, whatever it would be. 

 

Socks and shoes were another complicated matter. The swelling of her ankle had only increased. “I could wrap it up,” Hyun-ju suggested, knelt down in front of her. “Uh.. sure. But with what?” 

 

The woman looked around them, and then grabbed her shirt. Jun-hee watched, incredibly impressed, as she ripped it until she got a piece that could be used. She heard her mumbling something under her breath about the lack of supplies, and then Hyun-ju stood up to wet the material with cold water. She felt another weird urge, this time in the form of a thought at placing a kiss upon Hyun-ju’s hair while the woman gently wrapped the damp material around her ankle. Since it would be an incredibly odd, and possibly unwelcome thing to do, she held herself back. 

 

Three knocks this time. “All players must proceed to the dorms.”

 

“Another minute,” Jun-hee ground out, beyond irritated by those bothersome pests. They hadn’t looked into the small box yet. With both of them fully dressed, they did. 

 

It was another cruel joke. A white onesie with black numbers, and black pants. “At least it’s not a suit,” Hyun-ju offered, frowning at the clothing. Jun-hee sighed for the millionth time, and they dressed her. 

 

More knocking. “All players –”

 

“Yes, yes, we’ll be out soon.” 

 

Hyun-ju helped her up, and they stood together. Jun-hee looked up at her. “How do I look?” She asked, emboldened and shy at the same time. 

 

“Like a winner,” Hyun-ju said, a proud smile on her face as her hands came up to Jun-hee’s collar, adjusting the crooked bow. 

 

“A pretty one?” She asked, joking. Or fishing.

 

“Yes,” Hyun-ju answered. Too sincere. Jun-hee felt set aflame.

 

“Yeah?” Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She could not meet Hyun-ju’s gaze. She couldn’t look away either. 

 

“Yes,” Hyun-ju replied, with conviction. She knew she was anything but, and yet the sureness of Hyun-ju’s tone made her want to believe it. 

 

Jun-hee’s throat felt tight. She wanted to reach up, to wrap her arms around her shoulders and embrace her. Instead she looked down at her feet, ashamed of herself. Stupid thoughts, all of them. 

The dorms had been redecorated, or at least that’s what it seemed like at first. After a second glance Jun-hee realised that nothing had really changed except for the tables in a circle in the middle of the room, covered by white tablecloth, silver, and some candles. And of course, the almost-full piggybank in the very centre, down on the ground. Just in case they'd forgotten what they were doing all of this for.

 

But most importantly, food.

 

Food.

 

Jun-hee had been starving for days. Sometimes the hunger pains awoke her, her stomach feeling like it had caved into itself. 

 

She was aware of some classical piece put on for them, for ambiance. They’d done everything to make it seem like they were being catered to. A circus, that’s all it was. 

 

But god, Jun-hee was so hungry. And with nothing else to do she sat there, swallowing again and again as the saliva built up. The smell of food overpowered all else. A cradle had been provided for her daughter, and thankfully she slept in it peacefully. For now, at least. 

 

Nobody was eating yet. She didn’t reach for the cutlery either. Let me eat, let me eat, let me eat already. 

 

“We have prepared as much food and drink as you need. If you need more, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

Without further ado she cut off a piece of meat and shoved it in her mouth. The flavour, the tenderness and the warmth of it almost made her groan out loud. Pace yourself. Having been hungry for so long it was difficult to do. Now that she was breastfeeding she should’ve been eating every few hours. It was her first proper meal in days.  

 

She paid no mind to the men gobbling down their meals like savages. Not that she could fault them for it for she likely did not look any more refined. Hyun-ju did, though. She looked composed as she ate in little pieces as if her hunger was an afterthought and not an all-consuming need. But Jun-hee could see the relief in her face, and it likely mirrored her own. Clean clothes and food had been a consistent part of her daily life, a part she’d taken for granted before. She swore to never do so again if she got out of here alive. 

 

Overeating was too easy since the guards kept bringing more and more. The wine was flowing, fumes wafting through the dorm. Jun-hee was glad that Hyun-ju and Mr. Seong stuck to water even as the rest got gradually more drunk, the pungent stench of sweat, food, and alcohol almost suffocating. On the other side of the table Myung-gi’s wine glass was brought up more than meat and rice.

 

The podium was brought in after a while.

 

“You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not. But before we begin, you will be given a hint about the final game.” It caught their attention. Jun-hee wiped her mouth with the white cloth provided, and looked towards the guards. 

 

“In the final game you will each get to choose which players to eliminate.”

 

All ten heads went up at that. 

 

“We get to decide who will be eliminated?” Player 100 inquired. 

 

“That is correct. If you can all agree on which three players should be eliminated, everyone else will make it through.”

 

More questions about the same thing. Jun-hee was silently glad the others were more vocal about it because she was just as confused. They were further enlightened. “In the final game, you only need to eliminate a minimum of three players.”

 

Three. Only three? Hope reared its ugly head once again. 

 

“Doesn’t that mean more than three can be eliminated?”

 

“Correct. However, the choice will be yours.”

 

It set a stone in her stomach. They all knew who the three would be. They were the ideal targets, after all. Two women, one of whom was practically disabled, and a defenseless baby. Where Mr. Seong fit in that, Jun-hee wasn’t sure. She hoped he wouldn’t change his mind and go against them. 

 

The men’s barking was drowned out. Despair had finally caught up to her, as heavy as the food in her stomach. 

 

“If you eliminate three players, the rest will be able to leave this place as the final winners. Now, let’s begin the vote.”

 

Only three were needed. Jun-hee already knew the men would go for more, because the prize divided among eight winners would not be enough. No amount would ever be enough. 

 

“Player 457 will be considered to have abstained due to their inability to make decisions.”

 

At last, Jun-hee found her voice. “No,” she said, hoarse after being silent for a significant amount of time. The room was quiet. She cleared her throat, and went on. “It was your decision to make my child a player. My child, over whom I have authority. I will vote on her behalf.”

 

“Player 457 is an individual –“

 

“No, she isn’t.” They might’ve succeeded in taking away her autonomy, but she refuses to let them take her motherhood. “She’s my daughter. Mine. My flesh and blood, made by me, birthed by me. I will be voting for her.”  

 

The room was silent until the voices of angry men rang out once more, whiny and annoying. Jun-hee was well aware that they would likely be outnumbered, that her voting for her daughter would not get them out of the last game. It was a matter of principle. She didn’t back down, didn’t say anything else.  

 

The guard, who’d said nothing for a while, then spoke. “Proposal accepted. Player 222 will cast the vote of 457.”

 

She stood from her chair and limped to the podium, ignoring the men’s outrage. They can eat shit and die for all she cared. She pressed X.

 

The end results were predictable, all except one. Hatred, ugly but justified, overcame her when she saw the red tag switched to blue on Myung-gi’s suit. She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him. She hoped he would choke on the wine as his throat worked to swallow it down. 

 

You’re dead to me. An oath to herself and to her child, she will never know her father.

Hyun-ju could not sleep. 

 

It was not because of the loud snoring coming from the other side of the room, one resembling the ugliest choir ever heard. The sound was vaguely nostalgic considering how many years she’d spent surrounded by it throughout her career. 

 

It was not the snoring that kept her up, but the fear that it would stop. That one or more men would be by their beds and ready to take out the weaker players before the last game. That she would wake up too late, and lose everything because of it. 

 

Hyun-ju did not sleep.

 

Mr. Seong had been taken out for some reason. Hyun-ju was a little worried for him, but did not have the energy to wonder where he’d been taken and for what reason. Not when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up at the pair of eyes she felt but could not see.

 

Maybe the sleep-deprivation had caught up to her and was messing with her head. She doubted it. Her instincts had never once been wrong. 

 

The doors opened, and Mr. Seong stepped through. At first glance he seemed to be the same as always, but as he got closer Hyun-ju saw the haunted look in his eyes. Shaken, disturbed, but seemingly unharmed. She sat on the bed, her knees up and back against the wall, and watched as he walked over to her. There was a bit of blood on his shirt but Hyun-ju figured it was not his own. The split lip he got from the guards had healed over the past few hours. 

 

There was something about him that made her wary. Still, they’d built trust between them. Hyun-ju would wait to see what he wanted. His hands were trembling slightly, and she saw that the clenched fists had blood on them, the skin of his knuckles torn and swollen. And a clean knife in his left hand. 

 

That explained the shirt. It didn’t explain who he’d fought, how he’d got the item or why there was no blood on the steel, not one drop. Hyun-ju did not ask. 

 

“Take it,” he said, offering the dagger. “Take it. Use it tomorrow.”

 

She did not reach for it. Instead her hand went to her chest, feeling her own in her pocket. The jacket unbuttoned, she wrapped her fingers around Mr. Seong’s wrist, pulling it towards herself. The scene would certainly look strange to anyone watching from the other side, and Mr. Seong’s comical expression affirmed it. It was better if it looked strange, since if their enemies became aware of her blade it would put them at a disadvantage.

 

“Uh – miss –“ He looked so awkward she almost felt bad for him. She did not pay any mind to his frightened stance, pulling his hand closer to where the blade was hidden. Once he made contact with the weapon the realisation of what she was trying to tell him set in, and the awkwardness faded as if it’d never even existed. 

 

“Two,” she whispered. “When?” He asked, both surprised and relieved. She brought it out just a bit so he could see the handle.

 

“Good,” he nodded, straightening back up. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch.” 

 

“I don’t think I can sleep,” she sighed, making sure to keep her voice down.

 

“Try,” he said, and then gave them space, but not too much, sat on the floor close enough that no one could get to them without going through him first. A guard dog, but not an unwelcome one. 

 

They both had a formidable weapon. It might be possible for them to win tomorrow, and for Jun-hee and her baby to survive. 

 

Light reflection caught her eye, coming from a pair from the bed on the other side. Hyun-ju recognised him, player 333, Jun-hee’s ‘friend’. More than a friend probably, although Jun-hee had not said anything about it. Going by the way the young man kept staring at her, she knew they were anything but friends. 

 

His attachment to Jun-hee confused her. What kind of a ‘friend’ was he if he never once had stood up for her, even going as far as to join the other men while they were scheming after dinner? Hyun-ju had not heard what they’d been talking about because they had a child to take care of, but she had caught the circle of hands in the middle, and player 333’s hand among them. 

 

There was a thought nagging at her, but she didn't have energy to wonder about it now. Although the fixed gaze was bothersome, she closed her eyes, and went to sleep. 

Sleep, like other basic necessities, was a privilege not afforded to them. Compared to the terrible morning, the night was nowhere near as bad as it could’ve been. Hyun-ju had heard of newborns pained by all sorts of woes that they could not communicate and so the parents walked around like zombies for the first few years. While she hadn’t paid much attention to her reflection, a quick glance at it confirmed that she looked more dead than alive. Jun-hee wasn’t faring any better. 

 

Sleeping for a few hours at a time was torture. Even with three pairs of hands, with Mr. Seong taking over the duty of childcare a few times, it was still difficult. The real problem wasn’t the baby herself but the men who were woken up by her crying. Somewhere between drunk and hungover, but most importantly angry. Even a full stomach didn’t ease their moods. Although antagonistic, they at least didn’t go for another attack during the night. 

 

The baby cried when something was wrong. In this place many things were. The men wearing blue tags either didn’t understand or didn’t care to understand that basic fact. 

 

Fortunately the line in the middle of the room remained uncrossed. For now. Hyun-ju liked to believe she would be ready when they did, but the exhaustion had got to her. They kept to themselves, and saved their energy, or what was left of it, for the last game. 

 

They sat on the bed, both her and Jun-hee sighing in relief when the baby finally fell asleep. Jun-hee went to lay on her side, her half-lidded, tired eyes on her. “Hyun-ju,” she whispered. 

 

Hyun-ju turned to look at her. “What is it?” She asked, one hand trying to ease the soreness of her neck and shoulders. 

 

“Please take her for the last game.” 

 

Hyun-ju’s hands dropped back down to her lap. “Are you sure?”

 

Jun-hee nodded. “You’re stronger. They know it.. you know it.” She said it as a fact, and Hyun-ju acknowledged it as such. “Once we find out what the game is we can reassess and adapt. But please, take her and protect her.”

 

“Okay,” Hyun-ju agreed. “I will. I’ll protect her with my life. And you, too.” It needed to be said. She will not stand for Jun-hee believing that her life was not as valuable. “We won’t leave you behind.”

They were walking through the brightly-colored corridors with Jun-hee by her side and the baby wrapped in the sweater, secured around her back and torso. Like all times before they were at the end of the line. Mr. Seong turned to her. “You’ve got it?”

 

“Yes,” Hyun-ju replied, the weight of the knife a reassuring one. She got a nod in return. They kept walking. 

 

The metal elevator was foreboding. A stone set in her stomach, her gut telling her the last game will likely be hard for her. 

 

She was right. Heights, once again. Hyun-ju felt dizzy already. Focus. Don’t think about it. 

 

The woman’s voice rang through the speakers once they were on the concrete platform. “Here are the rules of the game. Players will play on the square, triangle, and circle towers. You will start a pushing game on these three pillars. The first round will be played on the square tower you are currently on. If you push one or more players off the tower while they are still alive, all remaining players will move to the triangle for the next round.”

 

The same went for the circle tower. “Everyone remaining will be the final winners.” A final announcement pertaining to a time limit. “Please keep in mind that if you do not eliminate anyone within the time limit, everyone on the tower will be eliminated.” 

 

The four of them were huddled together. They were the obvious targets, but not easy ones. While Hyun-ju held the baby, and even standing upright was a great difficulty for Jun-hee, Mr. Seong’s guarded stance made the men hesitant to make a move. There was strength in numbers no matter how disadvantaged the individual.

 

“Please press the button on the ground to start the first round.” A panel in the ground beside the pole slid open, and the red button rose to the surface. Player 100 pressed it, and the clock started counting down. They had fifteen minutes. 

 

The three of them, not counting Jun-hee’s baby, stuck together while the men were discussing the best way to approach the game. Hyun-ju was surprised at player 100’s suggestion of keeping the losses to a minimum. If the discussion were not about who to kill it could’ve even been considered civil – choosing which player would be sacrificed via a vote. 

 

“Let’s keep it democratic,” player 353 said. Bumbling fools, all of them, cheering along to whatever was spewn out. 

 

Silence followed, and the men looked between them, and a young man on the other side who was not in the inner circle. It was the same twitchy man who’d given them his share of food, player 124. Hyun-ju had noticed that he hadn’t joined the men last night. The red tag had isolated him just as it had them. Not counting the one time he gave them food, he showed no bias towards either group, keeping to himself. 

 

The six pairs of eyes went between them and the young man, and then settled on them. “I think the right choice would be to eliminate player 457,” player 039 offered. No hesitation in killing a baby. Possibly the most immoral type of murder, and yet it was the first suggestion. 

 

When questioned on it by the others, he explained. “Player 457 is not even an original player. It’s absurd.” One other agreed, the rest of them didn’t seem as enthusiastic. 

 

It was absurd, but not in the way player 039 was suggesting. Hyun-ju felt the tension radiating off the three of them, Jun-hee’s grip tightening around her waist. 

 

“It’s complicated,” player 203 said with mock sympathy. “The mother’s barely alive – “ Bullshit. “ – and it doesn’t look like there’s a father.” His scrunched up face made Hyun-ju grit her teeth, pressing Jun-hee closer to her side. However, she did notice player 333’s expression shift slightly at the word ‘father’. Something clicked then. Player 333’s eyes on the baby only affirmed it. 

 

The maniacs went on about how unfair it was that Jun-hee was allowed to ‘manipulate’ the votes via her daughter. But it seemed the murder of a newborn at the first round was too difficult when she was being guarded. The other men seemed to know it as well, but player 333 was the one who voiced his objection. Hyun-ju hadn’t failed to notice how Jun-hee’s expression changed when he stepped forward. The words that followed his objection made that startled look disappear. 

 

Player 333 went on about making ‘levelheaded decisions’. “The three of them will do whatever to protect the baby.” A hushed discussion followed. “Could one of them be the father?” One suggested. 

 

What incredible logic. All her strength went to making sure she wouldn’t open her mouth and piss them off. “Let’s just push them all off together.” Another genius. God, they were surrounded by idiots. Dangerous idiots.

 

“We need to keep the number of players pushed off to a minimum to have a better chance of all of us surviving.” Just as Hyun-ju’d thought, they didn’t have a solution on how to separate them. 

 

Player 333 then came up with a different one. “In this round we can just pick an easier target,” he offered, turning to player 124. The rest of them did as well, and Hyun-ju knew his fate had been sealed. “Then we find a way to separate those four.” 

 

A part of her felt bad for player 124, but it couldn’t be helped. Hyun-ju acknowledged player 333’s strategy. If she’d been her child and Hyun-ju were in his position, she would’ve done the same. 

 

Democracy, as watery and fictitious as it was, was brought up again. Player 124 was voted out. He did not agree to it. “Wait – wait! You’re really going to kill me just because you can’t get one of them, huh?” He asked, both laughing and also not. Unhinged, borderline hysterical, but did not yet beg for mercy. “Isn’t it just to save your girlfriend and your baby, Myung-gi?” The man snarled at player 333.

 

The men stopped at that. Player 333 seemed unaffected as if he’d already known the boy would reveal it. “The mother’s his girlfriend! That’s why he’s so intent on protecting her!” The young man went on, pointing from player 333 to Jun-hee. 

 

Hyun-ju knew it, and the tension radiating off of Jun-hee only affirmed it. Mr. Seong’s confused look in their direction made her want to roll her eyes. Really? You didn’t figure it out? It seemed he hadn’t. 

 

Player 333’s set shoulders were as steady as his voice. “We’d been together a long time ago. But that is not my child,” he said with such conviction Hyun-ju almost bought it as well. 

 

Almost. Fortunately for him, the men seemed to believe it even as player 124 went on, calling Myung-gi out on his lie. “Bullshit – He’s lying! He’s in love with her! He told me!” 

 

The men asked him if it was true. “Is it really your child?” Hyun-ju would give it to him – player 333, Myung-gi, did not falter for a moment. “Player 124 is an unstable drug addict. A slimy git willing to do whatever it takes to keep himself alive. He’s off his high, and it shows.” Myung-gi said, and then added a finishing statement. “The baby is not mine.” 

 

Whether it was his conviction, his sure tone leaving no room for argument, or the lack of Jun-hee’s response to that statement, her silence seemingly affirming it, the men bought it.  

 

The tactic, as bizarre as it was, was intelligible. If Myung-gi had claimed his daughter he would’ve been voted out, since it was obvious he’d been conspiring against his group from the start. What made Hyun-ju wonder was if that had been his plan all along and if it was, how he would’ve known to form it and to keep away from Jun-hee and their child. 

 

It didn’t add up. Perhaps he did truly believe the child wasn’t his? His actions certainly didn’t do anything to annul his statement. The young man had not stood up for Jun-hee and their child even once. 

 

Myung-gi walked to the centre, his unnerving eyes on them, on her, and the child in her arms. Her skin prickled from discomfort just as it had during the night. The young man said nothing even as player 124 went on about his and Jun-hee’s relationship, about how Myung-gi threatened to kill him for her. Myung-gi looked unfazed as he took the pole out of the concrete, and turned around.

 

“Move,” he said to the men. They let him pass. 

 

Player 124 laughed, a gleeful, shrill sound that was chilling to the bone. He looked deranged, his restless demeanour only affirming Myung-gi’s claim about his drug addiction. “Guess I really was just a one night stand, huh, Myung-gi?” 

 

Hyun-ju was confused by player 124’s provoking question, and Jun-hee’s face mirrored hers as they shared a quick look. 

 

“Nothing more important than your bitch, is that right?” A show of teeth. 

 

“Where are your pills, Nam-gyu?” The mocking question was asked in return. “You seem to have lost your mind completely.” He took a step closer, the end of the pole almost at player 124’s chest. 

 

The tension between them would’ve been intriguing if the clock had not been ticking, threatening to end all of them unless one was pushed over. Hyun-ju had no sympathy for Myung-gi even if the man was trying to save Jun-hee and her child, just hoped he wouldn’t turn around and point the pole in their direction. 

 

Player 124 laughed again, wiping his hands over his face in a way that dragged his skin downwards, showcasing the bloodshot eyes. “You fucking prick. He’s lying –!” 

 

The pole was up to his chest. Suddenly the man grabbed it with both hands. “Try me! I’ll fucking – you fucking – !” His incoherent shouting was cut off for a moment, his heel off the edge as Myung-gi steadily pushed him further. “You’re insane –!” The other shouted. 

 

“Stop calling me that!” Player 124 seemed off his rocket. None of them understood what he was talking about, or whose name was cursed with spittle. “It’s Nam-gyu!”

 

A last push, and then the young man, his hands still gripping the pole, fell over the ledge. 

 

Everyone was silent. The faint sound of a body hitting the ground echoed in her ears, making her sick to her stomach. 

 

A grating laugh was heard. “So that’s what that pole was for?” Myung-gi was then praised for his ‘ingenuity’ and getting rid of the ‘lunatic’. No sympathy was given to the young man murdered. Hyun-ju gave a silent prayer for him, as generally off-putting as he was. The loss of life had become such a mundane part of their lives that no one seemed to care when a person died, celebrating it instead. 

 

“The first round has ended.” A metal bridge slid out, connecting the square and triangle towers. “All players please proceed to the next round.” 

 

The men went first, and they followed with Mr. Seong in front of them. On the triangle they slowly went to the right corner, aware of all eyes on them. 

 

One pair was more forbidding than others. It was fixed on her and her alone, this time not even the baby spared a glance. Myung-gi had been watching Hyun-ju for a while, and now she was the prime target. A voice rang out once more, reminding them to press the button. 

 

Player 100 moved to it, but Myung-gi stopped him. “Wait! We can press it after we separate them.” 

 

The old man agreed. “Let’s nominate the ones we think should be eliminated.” Myung-gi’s eyes went to Mr. Seong. “I say we eliminate player 456 in this round.” The men agreed, one of them laughing in delight. “Ah, so you do care for the girl?” The other piped up at that. “Are you sure the child’s not yours?”

 

“No. It’s not mine,” he said, reinstating his lie.

 

Player 203 clicked his teeth, his hands in his pockets. “Player 222 would be an easier target once we separate them. Why not go for her?” The man asked Myung-gi, now in front of him. The younger man was ready for it. “We have to save at least one for the last round. If we eliminate player 456 then players 222 and 120 will be easy to handle,” he explained. 

 

The man squinted at them, and then turned back to Myung-gi. “Our golden boy,” he leered. “And who do you suggest should be eliminated in the last round?”

 

Player 100 gave his two cents. “The child should be with her mother. It should be player 120.” 

 

“Ah, but look at those two, hm?” Player 203 laughed, his eyes on her and Jun-hee. “Cuddled up to each other at all times. What if 120 is the father?” Some scoffs followed, but not disbelieving ones. After the comment, the hatred in Myung-gi’s gaze was solely for her. 

 

Surely it had to be against national law to have this many stupid people in one room. 

 

Hyun-ju tried to think of a strategy that would work in their favor. The game 333 was playing was a confusing one. However, her position in it was difficult as well. Outright denial would do her no favors. If she called Myung-gi out on his deception they could either believe her, and turn on him for manipulating them, or not, and they would still be targeted.

 

She was panicking, trying to figure out the best way to keep them alive. Her mouth seemed sealed shut. 

 

“Ah, but why should the mother get paid twice just because she birthed some baby?” A whiny voice rang out. “I have two children as well. Why didn’t I get two more votes, then? Shouldn’t I get more money for that then, too?” Player 353 bitched, loud and moronic as he was. His teammates agreed, saying they too had children, and that Jun-hee’s position would not spare her. 

 

“We can deal with it once player 456 is eliminated,” player 100 said. More voices in agreement. The ‘democratic’ vote was held once again. The button was pushed, and Mr. Seong was next. 

 

The truth had to be said. Hyun-ju could not let Myung-gi get away with his false testament. She was prepared to face Jun-hee’s wrath if the woman still loved him. 

 

A voice from her side rang out before she could do so. “The child is player 333’s.” Jun-hee stated, her voice hushed but clear. It was unexpected. “He was lying all along, and you believed him.” The men stopped their advance on Mr. Seong, the pole in player 353’s hands. They turned to look at Myung-gi instead.  

 

Hyun-ju wanted to ask Jun-hee if she really wanted them to turn on him. He was the father of her child, after all. However, the waves of loathing pouring off of the younger woman and towards her ex stopped her. Whether she did really despise him or if she was just trying to scatter the group, Hyun-ju felt a silver of satisfaction from it. Jun-hee and her daughter were better off without a father like him. 

 

“There’s a liar in your group,” Jun-hee stated coldly. The men’s eyes were on Myung-gi whose stony demeanor had disappeared. His face was screwed up in anger, lips trembling. That, along with the shiny eyes, was telling. “So, is it true?” One asked. “You lied to us?” Came from another. 

 

“We were together once. A long time ago. But then she tried to saddle me with some other man’s spawn,” he ground out, furious. “She’s a lying whore. The child is not mine.”

 

The men seemed lost at that. Confused and angry, although they looked unsure where to direct their fury. 

 

“Time’s ticking!” Player 100, frustrated with the back and forth. “Let’s deal with the old man first.” A few grumbles, but then the problem of their huddle became apparent once more. They were glued to each other, not even a hint of separation in sight. 

 

“Step away, old man!” Player 353 said, his voice as shaky as the hands holding the pole. “He’s a lunatic, and a pervert! Clinging to the girl like that!” Player 100 added, an accusing finger extended towards him. 

 

Mr. Seong did not defend his honor, nor did he step away from them. Hyun-ju was glad he seemed to realize their chance of survival was solely reliant on them as a unit. There was strength in numbers, and the men knew it as well, which was why they were hesitant to throw them off, shuffling nervously and spewing nonsense instead. 

 

Hyun-ju put her hand on Mr. Seong’s shoulder so it was visible to their opponents. “If you push him off, all four of us will fall.” She said, making sure to keep her voice steady. “What will you do then? Draw lots?” The bluff worked, the men stopped their advance. Mr. Seong affirmed her question, adding his own. “Who are you going to kill in the next round?” 

 

Nervous silence followed. Hyun-ju pressed on. “Player 333 thinks you’re stupid. He lied, and he’s still lying.. and you know it.” The men’s silence remained as their eyes went between her and their deceiving teammate. 

 

“They’re degenerates, and full of shit,” Myung-gi snarled, his fists clenched at his side. He was out for her blood, but Hyun-ju was not willing to back down. The group of men were unbalanced, which had been their goal. “Saw 120 and 456 fondling each other last night. All cozied up on 120’s bed.” It was an impressive attempt at derailing the conversation. To their dismay, it worked.

 

Myung-gi got the reaction he wanted. The others looked somewhere between disgusted and amused. And while she did not care for what they thought of her, a glare she could not, and would not ignore, was Jun-hee’s. 

 

The woman was looking up at her, clearly angry. No, furious. Drilling holes into her as if Hyun-ju’d betrayed her somehow. The rejection was further proclaimed as the grip on her waist loosened, Jun-hee’s hand threatening to leave her altogether. Hyun-ju couldn’t believe it. Really, Jun-hee? Panic threatened to immobilise her but she pushed on, and addressed player 333.

 

“Is that what you dream about, Myung-gi?” She asked, keeping her tone light as if she was actually concerned for him. “Did you wake up with your pants soiled?”

 

That earned some snickers, and even a few delighted ooh’s. While the men were entertained by the back and forth, Hyun-ju brought her hand to Jun-hee’s upper back, and wrote ‘knife’ and ‘2’.

 

Jun-hee’s glare was still there. Of course, it’s not like the man at her side got even a single look. No, her friend was only upset with her. Hyun-ju signed again, slower this time. At the second attempt the message was deciphered. Jun-hee seemed to ease up, the thunderous expression fading back into neutrality. Her hand was brought back to Hyun-ju’s waist, the hold the same as it was before. The balance was restored, but Hyun-ju was still worried how easily Myung-gi had got under Jun-hee’s skin.

 

The three of them could not lose focus. They can talk things out once they win. Don’t believe anything he says. Don’t let them break you.

 

“How amusing. They know we’ll kill them, so they’re desperately trying to save their own skin,” player 333 said to the men. The following verbal blows were not directed anywhere above the belt, not that the man had ever shown any desire to keep the conflict clean. “They’re messed up in the head, all of them. One is a perverted lunatic, the other a lying bitch who uses her baby as an excuse to vote twice, and the third is a man posing as a woman. Is that who you believe?” 

 

What a dirty fight. Hyun-ju was not afraid to even the field. 

 

“Ah, right. Good points, all of them,” she said, as pleasantly as possible. Going by Myung-gi’s loathsome expression, the sarcasm didn’t fly past him. “On the other hand, player 333 had no problem killing his little druggie boyfriend, isn’t that right?” The suggestion of a homosexual affair got a few looks of disgust, the men visibly disturbed by the idea of one of ‘their own’ being inclined towards men. Bigotry might just be beneficial, for once.

 

“The only time I touched that freak was with a ten-foot pole, and that was to throw him off. Just like I’ll do to you.” If looks could kill, Hyun-ju would’ve already been six feet under. That was fine with her, because she can go lower. 

 

Ignoring Myung-gi’s threat, she went on, making sure that the men heard each word. “So heartlessly murdered his lover. Imagine what he’ll do to you..” She let her voice trail off deliberately, giving them time to make up scenarios. The human imagination worked harder when less was said. 

 

“Ugh!” The old man groaned, looking at the time and patting his sweaty forehead. “Just push him off already –!” 

 

“We need to separate them!” Another cried out.

 

“Just advance, and they will,” Myung-gi said, eyeing them. He didn’t sound very convinced, but the others bought it. 

 

“He’s right,” player 203 said. “They’re bluffing. You’re telling me a mother would risk her child’s life for those two?” He gestured to them, and then turned to address Jun-hee individually. “Is that the kind of mother you are? One so bad you would kill your own baby?” 

 

They were right about that – they were bluffing. Jun-hee would never do that for them, and they’d never in a million years let it happen. It was all about projecting an image. 

 

All for one, one for all. 

 

If one of them fell it would damn all of them. Hyun-ju prayed Jun-hee would not give the men an inch. 

 

“If you push one of us, you push all of us,” Jun-hee ground out, keeping them both close, her previous displeasure gone. Hyun-ju was glad she’d ‘forgiven’ her for the crime Myung-gi claimed she committed. Don’t listen to what they say. Don’t lose focus. Don’t break formation. 

 

“Is that how it is? You’d kill your own kid?” 

 

Jun-hee’s responding silence, as stoic as the rest of her, said it all.

 

“Fucking psycho bitch. She’s as crazy as the other two.” The men looked at Jun-hee in disgust. The utter irony of their disapproval. 

 

“Yeah, I don’t believe it. Everything they say is bullshit,” player 336 stated. 

 

So what if it was. The fact was that the men looked unnerved, which was exactly what they’d intended. 

 

“We’ll see about that,” player 203 said, pressing the button. The countdown started. The one they’d assigned the task of killing them, player 353, was unhappy with that, his collar drenched in sweat. “I’m sick of the blabber. I don’t give a fuck anymore,” player 203 said, ignoring his teammates hesitation. “If 456 doesn’t step away, just push them all off.” The declaration and his stance left no room for argument. 

 

More sweat dripped down player 353’s face, the pole in his hands shaking as he stepped closer to them, the tip now almost at Mr. Seong’s chest. 

 

“Do it, if you can,” Mr. Seong said, his voice a gravelly whisper. “But remember, it could be your turn next. It looks like they’re scheming behind your back as we speak.” 

 

The man was seemingly at his breaking point, nervously looking back at the men that were in the middle of a hushed discussion. The seed of doubt had been sown, and Hyun-ju would make it grow, or die trying. “Think about it. Do you really trust them?” 

 

Player 203 called out again, encouraging the man to do his part. 

 

Hyun-ju kept her voice low, only focusing on the man in front of them. “Well? Do you?”

 

Alas, player 353 did not. He squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain, trembling like a leaf, and then stepped away, turning to join the circle of men, the pole now back in concrete. 

 

Chaos followed. The men were panicking, and that turned into anger. At each other’s necks, just how they’d intended.

 

Eventually Myung-gi, who looked more composed than before, suggested another ‘democratic’ solution. They watched as the show went on, as grated as their nerves were. Rock, paper, scissors. A bit of crafting as well. 

 

Hyun-ju had a lot to say. To their enemies, and to Jun-hee as well. Now that there wasn’t someone actively threatening to push them off she realised she was offended at how Jun-hee had reacted to Myung-gi’s taunting. She’d doubted them – no, her – for absolutely no reason. As if Hyun-ju had not been anything but loyal to her, and her alone.

 

Well, now Hyun-ju was angry with her, but she couldn’t voice it or express it in any manner. They can’t address any of the tension or allegations at the moment. They can’t fight and fall apart. 

 

This disastrous game was messing with her head. To remind herself of the stakes she turned to look at her heel, so close to the edge. And then further, where the ground seemed so, so far away. 

 

The nausea was sobering. She turned back around, and closed her eyes, slowly breathing in and out. She leaned her head down to where Jun-hee’s daughter was still sleeping, her nose almost touching the newborn's head, breathing in her scent. It helped, reminding her of what was truly important. When she pulled back she saw Jun-hee’s eyes on her, her expression soft. Apologetic, almost. 

 

It stabilized both the ground under her feet and her state of mind. Jun-hee was not angry with her. They were friends, they were good. They could do this. She focused on the men again, and waited for what would come. 

 

What they’d come up with was certainly compelling. Myung-gi was holding the pole as the others formed a line. Their jackets were off and tied together. “For safety,” player 336 explained, who’d lost the game and so was assigned the messenger role. He told them about the plan. “We draw lots, all ten of us.” His eyes went between the four of them. “To decide who gets eliminated this round.” 

 

Player 100, who was behind him, brought up his hand to show the strips of fabric. “The one who draws the shortest strip will be eliminated.” 

 

They tried to convince them it was fair. “You can even draw one for the baby,” they told Jun-hee. But all Hyun-ju heard was how their voices shook, how their skin got shinier from sweat as each second passed. They were nervous, and didn’t know how to break them apart. The trap was too obvious. 

 

They listened, and said nothing in return. They didn’t move an inch even as they were goaded on. 

 

“Bring them here, then,” Mr. Seong said, calling them out on their bluff. They had clearly never intended to actually involve them in a fair way. 

 

Several things happened in the passing of a few seconds. 

 

Player 336 ran forward and grabbed Mr. Seong by the middle, trying to pull him to the centre. The others helped him by pulling on the tied jackets. Hyun-ju was about to reach for her knife but then stopped when she saw Mr. Seong pull out his, and cut off player 336 from the rest. The line of men fell at once. 

 

Player 336 only realised how badly he’d miscalculated once the blade was at his throat. Understandably, he then proceeded to plead for his life, trying to appeal to Mr. Seong. “They made me do it. I have a wife and kid on the outside.” 

 

Then there was Myung-gi, creeping closer to them with the pole in his grip. Hyun-ju knew she was number one on his kill list, and the look in his eyes as he slowly advanced only affirmed it. But she was holding his baby and his girlfriend. Despite the overwhelming fear, so thick it almost choked her, she stayed where she was, satisfied when Jun-hee didn’t move either. Hyun-ju knew he wouldn’t push them all off.

 

And he didn’t. The pole turned towards the man Mr. Seong was holding at the edge of his knife. “Move!” Myung-gi called out, and as Mr. Seong’s hand retracted, taking a step back to rejoin her and Jun-hee, Myung-gi stepped forward and pushed the man off the tower. 

 

Player 336’s outraged yell echoed throughout the massive concrete room until it cut off, his brain scattered on the ground. 

 

Myung-gi looked at them, his grip secure around the pole, and settled on Jun-hee in the middle. No words were said as he turned to face the men, now an obvious threat. No longer to them, but to the group he’d been affiliated with before. 

 

It was a predictable move. Hyun-ju had known he would never kill either Jun-hee or his child. The men’s surprise only lasted for a moment, and then turned into defeat, followed by anger. The realization that they’d been fooled had come a little too late.

 

“Fuck!” Player 203 cursed, smacking his foot to the ground. “It really is your kid, huh?” The one beside him asked, both angry and defeated. 

 

Myung-gi stayed silent as he stood in front of them. It seemed he’d decided to mimic their strategy. Whether it was to unnerve their opponents, or to show solidarity, Hyun-ju didn’t know. 

 

There were now an equal number of players on either side, if Jun-hee’s baby wasn’t counted. With Mr. Seong holding the knife, and Myung-gi holding the pole, the men were at a disadvantage. And they knew it.

 

Time was running out. They were trying to bargain with them but they held out. The lots remained in player 100’s hold as he went on about ‘fairness’. 

 

“They might betray us at any moment,” Myung-gi said to them, his worried gaze on Jun-hee. Hyun-ju saw the behaviour for what it was, and she felt the urge to roll her eyes. How lovely of him to state the obvious. A small, unimpressed scoff came from her friend. 

 

“Betray you? You betrayed us!” The old man yelled. “Fucking turncoat!” Cursed the other, and tried to take a step towards them, but Myung-gi’s pole held him back. 

 

Another bout of chaos followed. This time they weren’t involved, and they remained that way as one of the men was held down and beaten. 

 

It was a disturbing sight. Jun-hee couldn’t stand it, her eyes squeezed shut and head turned away from the scene. Each time the man cried out in pain Hyun-ju felt her flinch. An understandable reaction. It was brutal to witness, but Hyun-ju had seen worse. While she was not unaffected, she was occupied with trying to calm down the baby. The noises had awoken her, and her frightened cries almost drowned out player 039’s pained ones. 

 

Player 100 turned to them as the others carried on, happily announcing they’d found a solution. “We’ll pack a lunch box!” Rats eating other rats, because that’s what these games had turned them into. The sound of bone being broken made her flinch as well. The sacrifice was crying, covered in blood. 

 

Hyun-ju hoped they would all hold out even if it went against their beliefs, against everything she thought she stood for. I can’t save him. We can’t save everyone. Unfortunately Mr. Seong believed he could. Hyun-ju saw it, and tried to stop him, releasing Jun-hee to grab onto his arm. “Don’t!” She whispered, desperate to keep their group from scattering. 

 

The hand was shrugged off. Mr. Seong shook his head, and slowly stepped towards player 039 on the ground, his knife held up. 

 

Hyun-ju tried not to panic. It was now only her, Jun-hee, and her child. Myung-gi was more dangerous than all of the men combined even if he presented himself as an ally. It was a hoax, Hyun-ju knew it. He was out for her blood. 

 

Mr. Seong chose to defend that man over them over keeping them safe, even if he didn’t realise it. 

 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

 

Hyun-ju held them both closer. Her heartbeat echoed in her head as Myung-gi turned to look back at them. Except he wasn’t occupied with his family. The look towards her said it all. 

 

You’re next. 

 

The weapon hidden away was calling to her, as heavy as her overworked heart. She did not reach for it. 

 

Instead she stayed where she was, soothing the baby as well as she and Jun-hee could. Luck, or just the fact that the child was still with her, seemed to spare her, for now. Myung-gi turned back towards the group arguing in the middle. He stepped forward, the pole aimed at one of them. 

 

An all-out fight broke out. Hyun-ju watched with bated breath as Mr. Seong and Myung-gi took them down, killing them via a knife or simply throwing them off. While Mr. Seong had been on the defense, Myung-gi had not. 

 

Mr. Seong seemed to realize it only when Myung-gi pushed player 100 off after the man tried to bargain with him. The pole went along with him. 

 

The timer went off, alerting the end of the round. Only one of the men remained. Player 039, the one beaten to a pulp, had crawled towards the edge of the platform. Hyun-ju wanted to yell out but stopped when it seemed Myung-gi had the same thought, unsteadily stalking towards him. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be your lunchbox,” the beaten man said, both with sorrow and determination.

 

Fuck. Neither Mr. Seong nor Myung-gi moved closer to him. The former tried to stop the man from what he was about to do. “We can talk about this, okay? Let’s just.. talk it out,” Mr. Seong said, looking from between player 039 and Myung-gi while holding up his hands placatingly.

 

But the man had decided. “You can talk amongst yourselves.” If Hyun-ju were in Myung-gi’s position, she would’ve just reached out, grabbed him, and kept him alive until the last round. She didn’t understand why he didn’t. 

 

Until Myung-gi’s gaze found hers over his shoulder. 

 

“I’m out,” player 039 said, and then threw himself off even as Mr. Seong reached out for him, seemingly genuine in his will to save him. To Mr. Seong’s and her dismay, albeit for different reasons, it was too late. The man was dead. 

 

Even when Myung-gi’s stare disappeared, she could only think of one thing. 

 

I’m fucked. 

 

She was. She was brought out of her defeated state by the woman’s voice telling them to proceed to the next round, and the bridge connecting the two towers. Not wanting to waste a second, she took Jun-hee in her arms, now carrying both her and the baby, and went over without a single look down, or back. 

 

No net of safety or any reassurance was felt even though Hyun-ju had survived the previous two rounds. She was in more danger than ever before. 

 

A hand reached out towards them, and her heart stopped for a moment. Luckily it was just Mr. Seong, who seemed to realize once again how important it was for him to stay by their side. Hyun-ju would give him a piece of her mind once they all survived. For now, she just put Jun-hee back down, and the four of them faced Myung-gi standing on the other side. 

 

Nobody touched the button. 

 

Every part of her was buzzing from unspent energy, both tired and adrenalized. They held formation, for now.

 

“Is that how it is, Jun-hee?” Myung-gi called out. “You’re choosing them over me? The father of your child?”

 

Jun-hee said nothing. Hyun-ju wanted to curse him out loud for killing off their mutual opponents, but held back since it would not do her any favors. The sacrifice would’ve spared them all, but it was of no use to moan about it now.

 

Myung-gi scoffed at Jun-hee’s ongoing silence, and rubbed his hands over his eyes, his shoulders shaking. “I love you, you know. I do.” The words were as honest as they were devastating. It was likely the most truthful thing Myung-gi’d said since the start of the game.

 

Jun-hee was moved by the confession, but not in happiness as one would. Her expression was thunderous. 

 

Don’t. Hyun-ju tried to hold her back, but was shrugged off just like Mr. Seong had in the previous round. “Jun-hee –“

 

“Shut up. This is not about you,” Myung-gi barked at her. With defeat, Hyun-ju backed off, and watched as her friend took two slow, limping steps towards her ex. 

 

They were falling apart. Come back. Stay with us. 

 

But Jun-hee didn’t even look back at them. Their trio was scattered. 

 

Despite the fact that Hyun-ju hated him, and feared for them all, she did not call out for her again. This was a family matter she was not involved in. Mr. Seong, like her, stayed away as well. 

 

“You love me? Is that so?” Jun-hee’s voice was hushed, cold as ice. Myung-gi was about to respond, but Jun-hee cut him off. “You abandoned me.”

 

“I –”

 

“You ignored me for months. You left me!” 

 

“I was just scared!” Myung-gi countered. “We couldn’t afford a child, and you know it! I came here for you, for us!”

 

Jun-hee’s shoulders rose, her fists clenched in anger. “For us? You wanted me to get rid of her.” 

 

Myung-gi looked devastated. “And I accepted it when you chose not to –”

 

Jun-hee’s fury now ran hot, unlike before. “Liar! You didn’t accept it – you just ignored me. Countless times I called you –”

 

“I was trying to find a solution. And this was my solution – just as it was yours.”

 

The argument was too history-dense for Hyun-ju to understand. The attempt to decipher it as a bystander was as easy as putting together a puzzle with missing pieces. 

 

“And what’s your excuse here?” Jun-hee asked, now clearly referring only to the past few days. 

 

“My excuse? Oh no, you fucking don’t – I tried to help you again, and again –”

 

“Oh, did you? Did you –”

 

“And you told me to fuck off. You didn’t want me,” Myung-gi pushed, pointing a finger at her. 

 

“Two days ago,” Jun-hee started, her tone almost a whisper. “I switched vests with you. I gave you my knife, because you promised –”

 

The boy’s scoff and a shake of the head was ignored, Jun-hee went on. “ – that you’d find me, and protect me. But you didn’t. The worst night of my fucking life, and you weren’t there –!”

 

“I tried to find you, Jun-hee. I did!” The boy insisted, his face twisted from holding back tears. “I did, I promise. I just –”

 

“And afterwards –” Jun-hee’s voice was now a little shaky as well. The waterworks were coming from both parties. “You didn’t protect me, or stand up for me – not even once! Not once, Myung-gi!”

 

“I tried! I came to you, and offered to help –”

 

“You never would’ve carried me over. I knew it then, and you only proved it when you left me behind –”

 

“I couldn’t force you, could I? God, Jun-hee –!” 

 

Jun-hee’s hair swayed with each shake of her head. 

 

It was a pitiful sight. The young man broke down at that, burying his face in his hands, his sobs so genuine, so heartwrenching it affected Hyun-ju as well. Even though she despised him, she did feel sorry for him. Jun-hee seemed a little better off, but not by much.

 

“Everything I did.. I was trying to – I tried –” He wiped his eyes and face, those pleading, teary eyes once again on Jun-hee. “I failed. I understand – I get it. You’re mad at me – and that’s fine.”

 

Jun-hee’s hand wiped her face, her breaths shaky, but otherwise stayed silent. 

 

“I know I messed up. But do I deserve to die because of it?” 

 

It was a fair question. In any other circumstances Hyun-ju would’ve said ‘no’. However, there were five of them left. Jun-hee and her baby had to survive, that was the law. That left her, Mr. Seong, and Myung-gi. She’d grown fond of Mr. Seong. 

 

She didn’t want to die either. Not if it meant Myung-gi would win the prize, and win Jun-hee over. Everything she’d seen and heard only proved that he, while not downright evil, was still an asshole. He would never, not in a million years, deserve someone like Jun-hee. 

 

The woman stayed silent, neither confirming nor denying. The tension rose, and Hyun-ju watched as it dawned on him that he’d let her down too many times. 

 

“You’d kill the father of your child? Is that what you’re saying, Jun-hee? That I should be killed? Your boyfriend?”  

 

Jun-hee was cold once again. “As you said – we haven’t been together for a long, long time.”

 

The sadness was gone. Only anger, spurred on by Jun-hee’s implication, was left now, and it grew as each second passed. The young man took a step forward. Jun-hee took one as well, leaving them further behind. 

 

Hyun-ju hadn’t moved an inch, and neither had Mr. Seong. 

 

“Shit – did I hear that right?” Myung-gi asked, spitting each word. “You’re saying my life is worth less than – than theirs? Those two?”

 

Again, Jun-hee neither confirmed nor denied, not out loud. But whatever Myung-gi saw in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes, it couldn’t have been good. His face was twisted from fury, the betrayal he felt clear as day, wide eyes burning holes into Jun-hee. 

 

“Why?” He demanded.

 

It got no response. 

 

“Who are they to you, exactly?”

 

Again, no response. He pressed on. “Who are they to you?”

 

This time he got one. “They’re my friends.”

 

A scoff. His eyebrows rose, mouth curled in disbelief. “Are they? You don’t know them –”

 

“I do.” Jun-hee’s voice was sure, steady. They didn’t actually know each other that well, but it seemed she’d made her decision. Hyun-ju wondered if it was because she knew Myung-gi too well, and whatever she knew made his case hopeless in her mind. 

 

Myung-gi laughed. “Do you?” Another scoff at Jun-hee’s silence, and then he went on. “Did you know them from before?”

 

Hyun-ju had a bad feeling about Myung-gi’s questioning. She could guess the direction it was heading. 

 

Jun-hee said nothing so Myung-gi went on. “Am I even the father, Jun-hee?” There it was. Jun-hee was forced on the defence. 

 

“What?” She asked in turn, the disbelief clear in her tone. 

 

So far Jun-hee had remained unshaken, for the most part. Hyun-ju saw that Myung-gi was truly unnerved since he’d overestimated his importance in Jun-hee’s life. Now he was cornered by them, wounded by the woman he loved, and was trying to even the field. The bad part was that it was working, and no one but Jun-hee herself could do anything about it. Hyun-ju prayed Jun-hee would not crumble under the weight. 

 

“Why are you so protective of them?” The young man asked, eyes squinting. “Did you sleep with them?”

 

“What? No!” 

 

Jun-hee was put in a position where she had no choice but to defend her honor. But Hyun-ju could hear the growing panic in her denial. Jun-hee was unbalanced. 

 

“Did they take turns, huh?”

 

“What? What are you – Myung-gi, that’s insane –!”

 

It was insane. It was shocking, disturbing to the core. While Hyun-ju had somewhat expected it, she still felt like she'd been thrown into a whirlpool, every part of her shaken and stirred. 

 

What the fuck. Both of them? The three of them? It sounded like the start of an anecdote. A middle-aged man, a trans woman, and a young mother walk into a bar. The joke might’ve been funny, but Jun-hee’s ex had no punchline to deliver. Or perhaps the punchline was that Jun-hee was a community mattress.

 

The goal of his questioning was clear, and Myung-gi was heading right towards it. “Is it? They’re always hovering around you. Always so.. protective..” His voice was barely above a whisper now, bleeding with cruelty. 

 

Jun-hee was thoroughly rattled. They all were. Even Mr. Seong looked around in confusion, baffled by what Myung-gi was saying. 

 

“I – I didn’t –“ Jun-hee’s denial did nothing to change his mind. 

 

Hyun-ju doubted that Myung-gi genuinely believed what he was saying. There was no way to prove that they were involved in some ludicrous affair, just as there was no way to prove they weren’t. It was he said, she said, and Myung-gi wouldn’t shut up.

 

“Is that so? Why do they seem to care so much, then? Did you really think they’re doing it out of the goodness of their hearts?”

 

“Just because you don’t seem to get the concept of friends –“ Jun-hee’s voice was slightly more stable now, but Myung-gi cut her off. 

 

“I get it just fine. It’s you who doesn’t. They’re not your friends, Jun-hee,” he stated. His eyes went to her, and then back to Jun-hee. “I see the way she looks at you, you know.”

Jun-hee couldn’t breathe.

 

She knew what he was attempting to do. It was just a tactic, and she was obviously being manipulated. He was trying to cut her off from her two real allies. 

 

Awareness of it did not diminish its effectiveness. The insults, his belittling accusations, they all got its intended result. She was hurt. Myung-gi’s words cut deep, making her bleed, and bleed, and bleed. 

 

Stop. Stop this. 

 

The wound was visible, and he pushed right on it. “Always creeping around, making sure you’re never far. You think she cares for you, is that it?”

 

Stop.

 

Myung-gi’s mocking whispers slithered around her neck, wounding so tight she could not utter a single word. 

 

“She’s just biding her time. Acting as your friend, so loyal, so good. She’s just waiting for the green light, for you to reward her by spreading your legs.”

 

Jun-hee tried to still her beating heart. She didn’t dare to look back at Hyun-ju. 

 

It’s not true. 

 

It made no sense. If Hyun-ju had really been driven by lust, as Myung-gi claimed, Jun-hee doubted she would’ve waited for so long. What was the point in that? When faced with death, why would anyone wait? There were countless times when it was just the two of them. Hyun-ju could’ve made a move, and she didn’t. 

 

So many times, so many chances, and yet none of them taken. Not like Jun-hee would’ve been able to put up a fight. With all her injuries she had no chance of holding off anyone who would try to force themselves onto her.  

 

Jun-hee knew a lustful gaze. She’d been forced to bear it too many times to count. She knew the way it dehumanized, the shame and self hatred that spurned from it. 

 

Whatever look Myung-gi claimed Hyun-ju had, Jun-hee did not see it. It’s not true. Hyun-ju was good in a genuine, authentic way. She was the best thing that had happened to Jun-hee for a long time. 

 

Mr. Seong’s voice rang out, for the first time since the last round. “That’s enough! Can we just –”

 

“Shut your mouth, old man. This isn’t about you –”

 

“You need to stop this. We need to keep a clear head, have an actual discussion –”  

 

Myung-gi laughed. It was a strange sound, more cruel than any laugh she’d ever heard from him. “There’s no discussion when I’m clearly the one you want to sacrifice,” he bit back. No one protested the claim.

 

“I’m right, and I know it,” Myung-gi continued, and then pointed a finger to her and the woman behind her. “They’re guilty, and they know it.” 

 

Guilty? Of what? They hadn’t done anything. Hyun-ju voiced what she couldn’t. “You’re delusional. Deranged –”

 

“She’s deflecting,” Myung-gi whispered, his gaze fixed on her. 

 

“And you are projecting, Myung-gi,” Hyun-ju said. Her tone was even, but the irritation was clear. “Nothing happened so stop blabbering about it.”

 

Myung-gi’s gaze didn’t sway from her. Jun-hee felt trapped under it. “What do you say, Jun-hee?” He carried on, his voice low so that the ‘conversation’ was only for the two of them. “Perhaps you wish it had?”

 

Uncertainty took over once again. She wished she could ‘no’, but she couldn’t. 

 

I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know. 

 

Perhaps if before dinner, back in that tiny room they were given, Hyun-ju had tied the bow, and then asked for a kiss while looking at her with those soft, soft eyes, as she always seemed to be, Jun-hee would have said yes. Maybe she would’ve leaned in as well, driven by curiosity, searching for some sort of respite, of comfort offered by a friend. 

 

It wouldn’t have meant anything. It wouldn’t have been a weird kiss, not like the ones shared by those types. No, it would’ve been different – a testament to their bond, a promise of loyalty. It wouldn’t have been dirty even if Jun-hee would’ve deepened the kiss, would’ve brought Hyun-ju along to lay on top of her. Just a moment of theirs, a show of camaraderie. Something that would’ve been strange to witness, but they would know the true meaning of it. 

 

Jun-hee’s skin burned just thinking about it. 

 

But they hadn’t kissed. They hadn’t even hugged, not really. 

 

Perhaps she did want it. 

 

I don’t know. But Myung-gi seemed to know. 

 

She looked at him, at the man she thought she had been in love with. She looked at him, and knew she never was, not for a moment. 

 

Two steps forward. Her lips parted at last. “I loved you,” she said. Each word was a lie, and she watched with satisfaction how his expression fell at it. “I wanted to be with you. To raise our daughter together.”

 

Devastation, regret, shame – his face displayed everything. All at once his offensive posture disappeared. Myung-gi shifted nervously, wiping his face as if to clear his head. “I – I’m sorry, Jun-hee. I – I just – shit –” Those doe eyes were shining once again. “These games – it’s not who I am – I’m not..” The last part was a whisper, a broken one.

 

Myung-gi looked panicked as if he’d only now realised how deep the hole he’d dug himself into really went. He tried to reach out by offering excuses. “It’s just this place. It’s messing with my head. It’s messed me up – us both.” Heaving for breath, the desperation as thick and off-putting as his putrid stench. “I love you. We can move past this – we can!”

 

Jun-hee could not move past it. She took another step. He mirrored the movement.

 

“We can, okay? Let’s just – forget about all of this. I - I forgive you –” As if she’d done anything that warranted it. “And in time, you’ll forgive me too. We can move on.”

 

There was no trust, no love left. There was nothing. Had been nothing for a long, long time.

 

She took another step, the green button right in front of her. 

 

The look upon his face was so hopeful. Jun-hee wanted to crush that hope. 

 

“You, Lee Myung-gi, are a jealous, pathetic, selfish little man. But worst of all, you’re a coward.”

 

The hope turned into confusion. “What..?”

 

Her good foot on the ground, she brought the injured one down to the button. She grit her teeth, bearing the sharp pain that radiated from her leg, making her whole body hurt from it, and stepped down. 

 

The timer went off. Fifteen minutes. 

 

Fuck you, she thought. Going by his fury, both visible and tangible, he heard it. 

 

Myung-gi had never before been a physical threat. Never before had he showed signs of aggression, not a hand raised at her even once. 

 

But everything had changed. 

 

The man charging at her was a different beast. Although Jun-hee’d expected it, bracing herself, it did not soften the blow. 

 

Stunned by both the hit and the pain that came after, she only saw that Mr. Seong came to her aid when she hit the ground. She expected Myung-gi to have a go at him next, except he didn’t. With movement as quick as a flash, he bypassed them both.

 

Jun-hee knew where he was heading, and tried to shove Mr. Seong in their direction. “Go –!” 

 

It was too late. Jun-hee knew Hyun-ju would’ve fought him off with ease if he’d gone for her. Instead, Myung-gi was holding a dagger at her daughter's throat. 

 

A wail rang out. 

 

Panic overtook her, worse than any physical pain she felt. “Don’t move!” Myung-gi said to Mr. Seong, who stopped his advance at once. Jun-hee prayed that her daughter was crying out in fear, not pain.

 

Jun-hee had no idea where he’d got the knife, or why he’d hidden it all this time. What she did know was that Hyun-ju had one as well. Wherever it was, it was not in her hand. 

 

Hyun-ju’s arm was up, frozen in mid-air as if she’d tried to reach for it before he got to them. “What – what are you –?”

 

“Give it here,” Myung-gi growled, his arm visibly flexing as he seemed to press the knife down with more intent. “It’s my child. Mine.”

 

Hyun-ju spared a glance in her direction, and then turned back to him. “That knife of yours is not very sharp,” she said, but Jun-hee heard the fear in her voice. 

 

“Would you like to find out?” Myung-gi asked. “What about you, Jun-hee? Shall we see how sharp the knife is?”

 

Her daughter’s crying pierced her ears. Jun-hee sobbed in turn, choking from the force of it. “Myung-gi, please –” She never thought she would beg him for anything. Her cheek was inflamed, her shirt only got more soaked as she leaked through one layer after another, her body responding to her baby’s despair like it always did. She felt more useless than ever. She hated herself for each choice she’d made that brought them to this moment. 

 

“Enough! We know you wouldn’t actually hurt your own child.” Mr. Seong was wrong. 

 

“Wouldn’t I?” Myung-gi countered. While he’d addressed them, Jun-hee saw how Hyun-ju attempted to move backwards and get her child away from the knife. It was of no use. She had nowhere to go and Myung-gi had the upper hand. The crying became louder as Myung-gi readjusted, pressing down with intent. A desperate “Stop!” came from the woman holding her child. Hyun-ju looked at her, her eyes both a plea and a question.

 

Her daughter’s wails made her ears ring. 

 

“Give her to him,” she ground out. “Do it.” 

 

Hyun-ju looked hesitant. However, Myung-gi was clearly not going back on his threat. He was a wretched man willing to do everything to survive, including murdering his own child. 

 

“Do it,” she ordered. After another moment of hesitation Hyun-ju did as told, taking the tied up sleeves from around her body. They all watched as he grabbed them, her baby hanging in that makeshift cot. He didn’t readjust his hold on her child, nor did he put down his dagger, holding it up to her friend instead. 

 

His attention was fixed on Hyun-ju. “I know you have something hidden. A weapon,” he said. The knife was almost at Hyun-ju’s throat. “I’m not sure why you haven’t used it. But I don’t care,” he turned to them, and stretched out the hand holding her child so she was almost at the edge. Myung-gi addressed all of them. “You make one move – one single move – and I’ll drop it.”

 

The threat was clear. They stood as still as stone. 

 

Myung-gi turned back towards Hyun-ju. “Now, where is it?”

 

“I lost it –”

 

Myung-gi’s bark of laughter made Jun-hee flinch. “No, absolutely not. Take it out.”

 

Hyun-ju looked furious at him, but kept glancing worriedly at the baby. Jun-hee swore she heard the gears turning as Hyun-ju tried to figure out a way to get her back. Don’t, Jun-hee prayed, hoping she’d hear. Please don’t try anything.  

 

“I lost it, okay? I don’t know where it is,” Hyun-ju said, her voice as calm as still water. It sounded honest even though she knew Hyun-ju had it when they’d walked to the game. 

 

“Goddamn liar. Take off your jacket,” Myung-gi ordered, and Hyun-ju did. “Turn it around, shake it out.” The order was followed, but nothing clattered to the floor. 

 

Jun-hee hoped she hadn’t actually lost it. 

 

“Did you hide it between those implants?” Myung-gi asked, eyes squinting at her chest. Another bout of fear, this time for Hyun-ju, overtook her. The woman was defiant, motionless except for her hands clenching at her sides. 

 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Unbutton your shit.”

 

Jun-hee cursed herself for getting involved with him, for having a child with such a horrible, piece of shit man. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. The despair was as profound as her fury. 

 

Hyun-ju’s hands came to her throat, and she threw off her tie before taking out each button. Jun-hee’s heart pounded as the sports bra was revealed. There was no knife, to Jun-hee’s astonishment. 

 

Where is it? 

 

Myung-gi had the same thought. “You sneaky bitch. Where did you hide it, hm?” He looked her up and down. “Shit,” he cursed, his snarl as vicious as his gaze. “Did you hide it between your legs? Should we have a look there as well?”

 

Mr. Seong seemed to have enough of Myung-gi’s taunting. Jun-hee saw that he tried to move towards the man, and reached out to grab his arm. “Don’t!”

 

Myung-gi didn’t even spare a glance in their direction. “Strike one, old man.” The hand holding her child moved further. She was hanging off the edge. 

 

“Myung-gi, please –” The plea was as painful as the sight, but Jun-hee didn’t know what else to say. 

 

“God, shut up.” Jun-hee grit her teeth, her tears a steady flood, and did as told.

 

Myung-gi was occupied with other matters. “Well?” he asked, waiting for Hyun-ju to go on. 

 

Hyun-ju looked away from her baby, and towards him. “I have a weapon alright,” she said, her voice mockingly pleasant. “Would you like me to slap it across your face? I’ll even tap it on your tongue if you’re a good boy.” The vulgar words were said in such a mild manner it sounded like a genuine offer. 

 

Despite her world falling apart, Jun-hee almost choked on the fit of laughter threatening to come up. The goading was only topped by Myung-gi’s absolutely baffled expression, somewhere between impressed and offended. 

 

Hyun-ju had, by some miracle, still kept her nerve. It gave Jun-hee hope, as hopeless as the whole thing seemed to be. 

 

Myung-gi scoffed. “You’re a fiery bitch, I’ll give you that.” A flash of movement from Hyun-ju, but all Myung-gi had to do was remind her that he had the bargaining piece. The baby cried out in panic at the shaking, forcing Hyun-ju to back off. 

 

Myung-gi tutted at her. “Strike two. You have one left for the three of you.” He ordered Hyun-ju to take slow steps back. With no other choice, she did. When she was far enough for his liking, even further than her and Mr. Seong, Myung-gi told her to stay put. 

 

The man turned his attention back to her. Swallowing her pride, Jun-hee had no choice but to bargain with the one thing she was left with – herself. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. She was sorry for putting her friends in this position, sorry for being too weak, too helpless to reverse the stakes. “I’m sorry, Myung-gi. I’m sorry for what I said.”

 

She was sorry for her child, at the mercy of the one man on Earth she despised the most. With his attention on her, she went on. “You’re right – I was just mad at you. I – the games, it’s all just – you were right. It’s all messing with my head.” Every word felt like glass shards swallowed. But Myung-gi was listening, and said nothing, standing still as she took slow steps towards him. “Please, don’t do this.” 

 

The man looked ready to break. Jun-hee dropped to her knees in front of him. “Please. Please, we can fix this –”

 

“How?” He asked, a tear trapped in his lower lashes. “You hate me –”

 

“I don’t! I just – I’m mad at you, but I could never..” Her head went down, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the lies about to pour from her mouth. “I tried, I tried so hard. But I can’t hate you.” She looked back up at him, silently praying he would believe her. 

 

I do. I do, I do, I do. Her tears were not for him. Still, she let them drop. “I love you. I always have. Please, don’t do this.” 

 

The false confession made him visibly crumble, eyelashes fluttering from tears not yet spilled. “Jun-hee –”

 

“Please. You’re right. We can figure it out, move past it,” she went on, unashamed as she used his love for her to gain leverage. “I want to try. We can get out with the money, and then we can raise our daughter. Together.”  

 

Myung-gi sobbed at that, wiping the tears away with the hand holding the knife. His trembling arm did not move the baby from the life-threatening position. 

 

Jun-hee would do anything to change that. “We can still have a future. Please, oppa,” she begged, making sure to sound as pitiful as possible. If he caught a whiff of the lie, it would be over for all of them. 

 

“I – I don’t know –“

 

“Please.” It was working. But time was running out. “Please –“

 

“You’ll be with me?” He asked, voice full of genuine hope. 

 

“Yes,” she promised, hating herself. But her child came above all else, including dignity. She’d bear any amount of humiliation if it meant he would not loosen the grip he had on Hyun-ju’s sweater. 

 

He nodded, wiped his face again. He spoke softly, and his eyes on her were just as weak. “Alright. But you know that they have to go.”

 

Jun-hee tried to keep her tears at bay. It didn’t work. With her head down, and her heart shattered into a million pieces, she nodded. Her chin was brought back up to look at him by the blade in his hand. He took one step forward, but it wasn’t far enough for the concrete tower to stop the fall if he let go of her baby.

 

Now that Jun-hee’d agreed to his appalling terms, Myung-gi was distracted, staring at her chest in mild distaste. “Your shirt is soaked,” he said, stating the obvious. The pads had long ago lost their usefulness, the stress on her body caused by her child’s crying too great. Jun-hee wanted to gouge his eyes out. 

 

The urge was shoved down, like all others. “I can’t help it.. It’s – the baby’s –”

 

The stuttered explanation got no empathy in turn. “It’s inappropriate. Button your jacket.” She should’ve cut his throat while he slept. The asshole didn’t seem to care one bit that the reason why she was in that state was because he was holding her child hostage. The order was outrageous but Jun-hee could do nothing but yield to it, unbecomingly meek and subservient. The knife at her throat did not cut into her skin, at least not yet. 

 

With both of them trapped, Myung-gi turned to their company. “Now, which one of you will be the sacrifice?” 

 

The heavy question hung in the air. “Any volunteers?”

 

A loud sigh came from her right side. “I’ll do it,” Mr. Seong said. Jun-hee couldn’t turn her head to look at him, but she heard the conviction in his tone, defeated and tired as it was.

 

“Why so?” Myung-gi inquired. 

 

Mr. Seong was silent for a moment, and then spoke. “Look, it’s – can you at least put your child down?” Myung-gi seemed to consider it for a moment, but then he looked to Jun-hee’s left where Hyun-ju was. 

 

Mr. Seong’s request was not fulfilled, her crying baby remained suspended in the air. Myung-gi questioned him instead. “You’ve done everything not to die so far. Why the.. heroism?” 

 

“It makes sense,” he said, sounding as done with the whole thing as she felt. “I’m older than all of you. I’ll be the body you need to pass the game, and then you can.. move on, or whatever. Live your life. Raise your child.” The last part sounded doubtful. It was understandable, given that Myung-gi was threatening to murder her.

 

Jun-hee didn’t want him to die. Another friend to mourn because of her ineptitude. But faced with death there was little choice but to be honest with herself. If there really was no way out, she would prefer Hyun-ju to live. 

 

I’m sorry. 

 

The immense guilt she felt did not erase that simple fact. There was always a preference, and Jun-hee preferred her over anyone. 

 

Myung-gi looked at Mr. Seong like he was trying to figure out whether the older man’s offer was real. “Reasonable,” he nodded, deciding it was. “A kind offer, but there’s no need for it.”

 

Jun-hee’s heart may have stopped beating altogether. 

 

“Player 120 will do it.”

 

She couldn’t stop the tears if she’d wanted to. “Why? Why, Myung-gi?”

 

Mr. Seong’s protest rang out as well. “There’s no need – I’ll do it. Be reasonable!” 

 

“I am reasonable,” Myung-gi said, being anything but that. “I don’t care if you live or die, 456. But her..” He trailed off, and looked down at her where she kneeled in front of him. 

 

With the last of her strength, she pleaded for Hyun-ju’s life. “Please – Myung-gi, please!” The pitying look she got in response was as humiliating as her position, but she was stretched too thin to think about it. Please, please, please. 

 

The hand holding the knife was placed on her head. Myung-gi petted her as if she was a dog, or some child that needed comfort. Every part of her was fighting to escape from the degrading touch, but she determinedly stayed where she was. “Why? Why, tell me why?”

 

Once upon a time Jun-hee had reveled in gaze, and the touch of his hand. It seemed decades ago now. When Myung-gi leaned down to get close enough so that they almost shared a breath she felt dirtier than ever before. Myung-gi looked at her with so much pity, such faux-sympathy she felt nauseous from it. “Please, don’t do this,” she whispered, and brought her hands up to his shirt, petting him in return. “Why – why her?”

 

He sighed as if she was being tiresome. “Such a bleeding heart you have, my dear Jun-hee.” A small kiss was placed on her cheekbone as if he wanted to taste her misery through the tears.

 

“Because I don’t like her,” he explained, tone mocking as if talking to someone particularly dull. The hand in her hair tightened, his sharp fingernails and the metal digging into her scalp. Their lips were almost touching, and Jun-hee had to stop herself from gagging. He smelled rotten, inside and out. “And because you do.”

Hyun-ju was about to do something stupid. 

 

The clock ticked on, and player 333 was still holding his own child over the edge. Hyun-ju saw how his muscles twitched and trembled from the weight. One wrong move and his grip would loosen, and the baby would fall to her death. 

 

Hyun-ju had been waiting for a sign. The patience it took to not do anything simultaneously wore her down and made her restless. When Myung-gi’s attention was solely on Jun-hee she decided it was now or never. 

 

She will kill Jun-hee’s boyfriend. If Jun-hee does still love him she’ll never forgive her for it. Hyun-ju tried to tell herself Jun-hee didn’t despite her words, since she was the one who stepped on the button. But love was complicated. One never really knew the matters of another’s heart. 

 

As she looked at them, a sight that would’ve been too intimate had Myung-gi still not threatened to kill his daughter, she decided he had to go. He would die or Hyun-ju would die trying. 

 

The fear she felt was tangible, thick as blood flowing through her veins. If she fails then Jun-hee’s daughter will die because of her. Should that happen then Hyun-ju will throw herself right off without a second thought. 

 

Even if she succeeds, Jun-hee might never forgive her for the stunt. Whether or not her confession of love for Myung-gi was truthful, she might still hate her for eternity for gambling with her daughter’s life. 

 

There was no other way. Hyun-ju can’t ask for permission. She will ask for forgiveness after. 

 

Her hand shook as she slowly put it behind her back where she’d secured the knife. For so long it had stayed there as she debated over and over whether it was the right time to take it out. She was disappointed that she hadn’t already. She almost had when Myung-gi had run at her when she’d still held the child. Before today her instincts would’ve got the knife in her hand in a second. But when he saw him, his eyes on the baby, she clutched her closer to her chest, the fear for her diminishing all built-in instinct for combat. 

 

The fact that he’d got her was something she’d never forgive herself. But he had, and Hyun-ju had to move forward for the time being. The game was still on, she can hate herself after. 

 

The fear was overwhelming. But fear itself was not the enemy. The real enemy was indecision.

 

Hyun-ju had decided. She locked eyes with Mr. Seong at her right. Get ready. He didn’t move, only blinked at her in return, but the sternness of the line of his mouth told her all she needed to know.

 

She wanted blood, and it had to be Myung-gi’s. The fury at seeing his hand grip Jun-hee’s hair overshadowed her fear, and her own was steady when she threw the knife. 

 

The blade cut through the jacket and shirt, and lodged into his arm. Hyun-ju moved forward before it even landed. 

 

Myung-gi was suddenly pulled forward by the lapels of his jacket. But the young man’s grip on her child had slackened before he landed on top of Jun-hee. Hyun-ju was down on the floor, upper body off the edge, barely balanced by her legs on concrete and her hands stretched out to catch the child. 

 

She landed in her palms. Hyun-ju’s hands held onto her, lungs burning for air she couldn’t take, until she felt a hand wrapped around her leg, the other placed under her stomach. Somewhere behind there was a fight going on, the sounds of men’s grunting almost drowning out Jun-hee’s huffs as they worked together to get both her and her baby back to safety. 

 

Jun-hee’s relieved cry when her daughter was back in her arms drowned out everything else. The risk Hyun-ju had taken had paid off, and she took a second to catch her breath. 

 

Her head pounded as incessantly as her heart. At Jun-hee’s gasp she turned around, and saw that the tower was empty. Mr. Seong’s grunt sounded closer than if he'd already fallen to the ground, so she quickly stood up and moved towards it. 

 

An exposed metal wire had the man's fist wrapped around it. But Mr. Seong wasn’t the only one hanging onto the tower. Myung-gi was holding onto him via a knife stuck in his back. Mr. Seong’s own weapon was gone, and coughing up blood was a bad sign, but he will not die if Hyun-ju can help it. 

 

So she did. “Here –” she said, holding out her hand for him to grab, and once he was secured Hyun-ju started pulling him up. However, Myung-gi was fighting to live too. Hyun-ju tightened her grip, her other hand holding the back of his collar, brought her leg over the edge, and kicked Myung-gi in the face. More blood ran into his panting mouth, but he was otherwise undeterred, taking the knife out of Mr. Seong’s back and slashing into her leg. 

 

She bore it, and kicked again. Her hatred of him won over the pain, and she kept going even when he stabbed through the flesh and down to the bone. 

 

“Fucking die already –!” With one last kick something had cracked beneath her heel, and the grip on Mr. Seong had finally loosened. Myung-gi fell down, down, down, until his body dropped to the ground, bones broken and brain turned to mush. 

 

“Player 333, eliminated.”

 

Hyun-ju gasped for breath, and then turned to the man still alive. “Come on!” His eyes fluttered and threatened to close, body almost slipping from her grasp. She ground her teeth, and wrapped her arms around him. “Stay awake! Come on – don’t you dare –!” Using the last of her strength to pull him up and back to the tower, she could only breathe once he was there. They landed on the ground but Hyun-ju could not rest, not when Mr. Seong’s eyes were closed, and his weak attempts to breathe were interrupted by the gurgling sound of choking on his own blood. 

 

She turned him to lay on his side, and grabbed his face. “Stay awake,” she demanded, snapping her fingers to get his attention. No response. “Look at me! Look at me!” At the slap that followed, his eyes opened just a little. They were unfocused and unseeing. “Come on,” she begged, ripping up the jacket and shoving the material in the several wounds on his back that had blood pouring out of them. Jun-hee had come to her aid, frantically trying to keep him from bleeding out as well. “Ahjussi,” her soft voice called out for him. “It’s over. Just hold on for a little longer.”

 

The old man did not respond, face pale and eyes shut. Hyun-ju took his pulse. It was there, as faint as it was. 

 

“Player 457, pass. Player 456, pass. Player 222, pass. Player 120, pass. Congratulations!” 

 

It was finally over. 

Notes:

‘I want you to ask the man something,’ Baba said. He said it to Karim, but looked directly at the Russian officer. ‘Ask him where his shame is.’

They spoke. ‘He says this is war. There is no shame in war.’

‘Tell him he’s wrong. War doesn’t negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.’

– Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

 

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This fic is divided into two chapters (sort of bef/af the games), I’ll try to get the second chap out asap

Thank YOU for reading !!!!!!