Chapter Text
“Gi-hun.”
His hands hurt to the point where they shook violently as he grabbed the knife and turned to get on his hands and knees while he tried to gather his surroundings. His hands kept slipping on the floor from his own blood.
Jung-bae’s eyes were still on him.
He heard Jung-bae’s rasping breath, the last one he’d ever take. Gi-hun didn’t want to hear Young-il make the same noise. He couldn’t, and he had to do something .
390, eliminated.
He’d failed too many times to save people he cared about. He couldn’t do it again.
390, eliminated.
Gi-hun crawled across to where the two men were and he didn’t think for a second. He didn’t even wonder where the other man had gone. How could he when he saw the attacker had taken Young-il’s knife and had it pressed firmly against his throat. He only thought about Jung-bae and about Young-il. Gi-hun sprung into action and grabbed a fistful of the man’s long, thin hair, as he quickly yanked him back until he was pressed firm against his own chest.
390, eliminated.
Gi-hun shoved the knife into the man’s neck and he felt Jung-bae’s eyes on him, but they weren’t Jung-bae’s at all, and they stared at each other and through each other and Gi-hun felt sick and
390, eliminated
and both he and the man in his arms shook, and Gi-hun thought they both let out a quiet scream but maybe it was just him or maybe it was all in his head he didn’t know anymore all he saw were those dark eyes piercing through him and he felt warm blood spill over his hands over the floor everywhere
124, eliminated
Gi-hun whimpered and lost his grip on the man. 124 fell forwards and landed on top of Young-il, all Gi-hun heard was the man letting out a quiet groan. He didn’t look, he only stared down at his lap, at those bloody hands of his. The knife had fallen from them at some point and Gi-hun wasn’t sure where it was.
Red players weren’t allowed to kill each other.
Gi-hun hadn’t thought it through - he’d just acted. Maybe 124 would’ve gone through with it? Gi-hun thought there was something blank in the man’s stare, ragged and erratic in his movements as well. Maybe he would’ve killed Young-il even if it wasn’t allowed? Maybe? Hopefully ?
and Jung-bae’s eyes were still on him
“Gi-hun.”
The voice was softer now than moments before, and he barely heard it. He tried to listen, he tried to hear it, but he couldn’t. His eyes weren’t working quite right - the whole world was blurry and red, and Gi-hun could hear his own heart racing erratically in his chest. His breaths came out shallow and ragged and for a moment he thought he sounded just like Jung-bae.
“Gi-hun,” Young-il repeated louder and Gi-hun felt his hands on his shoulders as they shook him slightly, “stay with me.”
His vision cleared slightly and he almost jumped back from how close Young-il was to him. The man was covered in 124’s blood. It was so bright and his eyes were so dark, and Gi-hun wondered if his own looked the same as before or if something in them had gone out. He couldn’t look at him.
Maybe Young-il would see - see that there was something missing, something lost.
Young-il kept repeating his name, and shook him gently as one of his hands reached up to cup Gi-hun’s face and turn his head so that he would force their eyes to meet. Gi-hun let out a quiet whimper. Crushing shame and regret mixed with grief, and Gi-hun didn’t want to keep playing this game anymore.
“I’m sorry,” Young-il said quietly, “about Jung-bae. I’m sorry, Gi-hun.”
Gi-hun let out a sob and slumped forwards against Young-il, who caught him at once with his arms snaking around him. His own gripped at Young-il’s jacket as Gi-hun hid his face into his neck. Hid it from the shame, the pain, all of it. Though his eyes were closed, Gi-hun still saw Jung-bae and Jung-bae saw him .
As the adrenaline slowly wore off and the pain settled in his gut, his sobs grew more erratic and louder, Gi-hun trembled violently, and Young-il said nothing at all, just held him tight against him.
There was blood everywhere and it was making him sick. Some of it was Gi-hun’s own, and he quietly wished there was more of it. His hands were burning in pain, and Gi-hun reveled in it. It was the only thing that felt right, that he felt like he deserved. He didn’t deserve Young-il’s kind, comforting touch either, and yet here he sat, selfishly taking it in and not moving an inch out of fear that Young-il would realise what kind of a man he held in his arms and let go at once.
And then Young-il realised and he slowly started to pull away. Gi-hun followed momentarily, leaning forwards, matching Young-il’s movement before the man’s hands were on his shoulders and he was being pushed to sit back. He opened his eyes and looked at Young-il. He couldn’t look anywhere else. If he looked to his left, he’d see 124 and if he looked to the right he’d see Jung-bae. Gi-hun kept staring forwards, because all that was forwards was Young-il and his eyes were full of something that Gi-hun couldn’t place and neither did he want to.
“We have to go, Gi-hun,” Young-il said quietly.
“I don’t want Jung-bae to be alone,” Gi-hun mumbled, shaking his head, “just -- go.”
“I’m not leaving you. Come.”
Young-il wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when Gi-hun kept protesting, kept swatting away his arms when he started to pull him up to his feet. While Gi-hun tried to resist, Young-il was as unmoving as a boulder. There was no convincing him of leaving Gi-hun. All Gi-hun had succeeded in doing was waste time.
“We found an exit,” Gi-hun mumbled, “the door needs three keys. We were going to try and find them. I wanted to make sure Jung-bae was safe -- I --”
Young-il shushed him and put his arm around his middle to guide him down the hallway, “we’re going to find those keys. Do you know what to look for? I need you with me, Gi-hun. Please. You can do this. For me.”
Gi-hun didn’t want to, but he had to.
For him .
The arena was more chaotic now than it had been prior. They kept having to duck into hallways to hide. Gi-hun struggled to keep up and pay enough attention, so Young-il was on the lookout and Gi-hun kept being grabbed and dragged off into different directions. He was trying to appreciate it, but, by this point, Gi-hun just kept going through the motions while Young-il tried -- really tried to help him keep his head.
There were plenty of corpses to look through. They were all Jung-bae.
Gi-hun felt like he would throw up at any moment now, and Young-il admittedly did most of the searching. It only hit Gi-hun after a while that he still hadn’t heard the announcement that Young-il had made it through the game. Because he hadn’t. Young-il hadn’t killed anyone yet, according to the man himself, though he brushed it off immediately and protested that they had more important things to do right now.
All of it felt like Gi-hun’s fault. Maybe if he’d dealt with things differently, Young-il would’ve had a chance to do what he had to do. But now, time was ticking down slowly but surely and Young-il’s blade remained tucked away in his waistband rather than getting used. Gi-hun felt as though he was more worried than the other man at this point, because all Young-il seemed to be concerned about was finding the right keys. Did he not realise that he was running out of time? Did he not care?
Jung-bae’s key was a circle, as was Gi-hun’s. So far they had found a triangle shaped one, but not the last one they needed. Not they , Young-il had reminded him multiple times by now,- just Gi-hun . The red team couldn’t leave the same way as the blue, but surely that wasn’t true. Gi-hun refused to believe it. It was stubborn, yes, but he wasn’t going to lose both Jung-bae and Young-il in the same day. He couldn’t.
“Aha!” Gi-hun heard his voice and he straightened up at once.
“Huh? Did you find it?”
Gi-hun watched as Young-il shot him one of those bright smiles of his, as he stood up and held up a key. A square. Just right. Gi-hun stared for a while before rushing over and grabbing Young-il by the arm, “come on, we have to go. Do you remember the way to the door, Gi-hun?”
They had eight minutes.
Eight minutes to get back to the door and eight minutes to get out of here. Both of them.
Gi-hun held onto Young-il the whole way there, his hand firmly on the other man’s back. He remembered the way better than he expected. There were fresh corpses that hadn’t been there before, which made him doubt himself a little but he pushed on for Young-il’s sake. He didn’t look down the hallway where Jung-bae lay. Gi-hun felt bile rise up his throat momentarily.
Four minutes.
They reached the room and Young-il shoved his newly obtained key into the lock and beckoned Gi-hun to do the same. He took off the two keys that hung around his neck and passed them to Young-il. Immediately he regretted it.
“There’s still time, come on,” Gi-hun said and leant against the door so that he would be right in front of Young-il’s face, “we’ll find someone.”
“Find some poor bastard for me to kill, hmm?” Young-il scoffed and shook his head, shoving the triangle key into the lock and turning it.
One more left.
“It’s more likely we’ll both get killed. You saw how desperate people were getting by the end… if one of the reds sees you, then…”
Sure. They’d heard screaming, begging. Every sound sent them both on edge because as the time had ticked down, the red team had grown more and more scared. That was the word - not desperate, but scared. They wanted to live, like anyone else, even if it meant to kill. Gi-hun didn’t blame them. He couldn’t.
“You — you haven’t done it . I can’t lose you too. Not like this. You’re a good man, Young-il, I —“ Gi-hun cut himself off and winced a little as he heard the circle key get shoved into the lock and turned as well.
His safe haven was unlocked, and yet Gi-hun kept the door firmly shut with his body. He didn’t want to go in there. It meant life for him but death for Young-il. It wasn’t fair - Gi-hun meant every word he said. Young-il was a better man than he was in many ways, and he had something outside of this place waiting for him. Gi-hun had nothing, so then wasn’t the logical choice to —
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Young-il said and Gi-hun watched as his face hardened, “go. Please.”
But he was thinking it and the seed was in his brain and it was starting to blossom and bloom. Gi-hun reached out and grabbed the knife from the waistband of Young-il’s trousers and shoved it in his hand before pulling it towards his own chest. It felt right. This was fair, this felt like the right choice to make now. After everything. After all of Gi-hun’s failures, he could do something right.
“Gi-hun, what --”
“Do it,” he said and stared right into Young-il’s eyes.
They seemed confused, shocked maybe. Something else, too.
“You’re being ridiculous, I’m not --”
“You will. Please,” Gi-hun said and he could feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes, “I can’t do this. I want you to live. I need you to. Please, Young-il.”
“No,” Young-il frowned and he tried to rip his hand away, but Gi-hun didn’t let him. His grip on Young-il tightened, and he let out a quiet grunt when he felt the tip of the knife push against his stomach. Just a bit more and everything would be read again, and this time it would be proper. It would be right .
Didn’t Young-il understand? Didn’t he see the husk of a man he stood in front of right now? There was no point in Gi-hun being here anymore. His time had passed and he only brought more death with each step he took in this godforsaken place. It was time, and Gi-hun couldn’t understand why Young-il couldn’t see it; why he insisted that Gi-hun’s life was more worth than his own.
“Dammit, look at me,” Gi-hun whined, “why can’t you just -- I don’t want to be here anymore, all I do is ruin everything. Jung-bae is dead because I wasn’t paying attention. That kid didn’t have to die either and now you -- I can’t do this anymore. Please.”
His voice sounded so desperate, and it’d been a while since Gi-hun had heard himself sound that way. But he felt like it. He felt absolutely full of grief and sorrow, and he wanted it to end. His body felt heavy and tired, and he wanted to lay it down. If he could sacrifice himself for someone who he thought deserved it more, then even better. Young-il should go home - he should go see his wife, save her and their child.
Gi-hun felt a pang in his chest at that thought.
There was a timer above the door, and Gi-hun could hear the slight mechanic or maybe electric clicking coming from it as the time ticked down. He didn’t want to look, he didn’t want to know. He wanted to stay here. Gi-hun noticed Young-il’s hands were trembling a little. He could feel it by the way the knife shook gently, the tip of it moving up and down left and right and yet it wasn’t being pressed against him hard enough to make a cut. There was something off, different from Young-il’s usual demeanor.
“Gi-hun,” Young-il breathed and leant forwards, and Gi-hun felt himself tense up when Young-il leant his forehead against the door right by Gi-hun’s head.
He thought for a moment that -- no, he didn’t think anything at all.
Gi-hun let out a shaky breath and stared at the wall opposite him. It pained him that he couldn’t tell what Young-il was thinking. It always felt like Young-il could read him so effortlessly somehow.
One last time, Gi-hun tried to shove Young-il’s hands closer, higher, harder up, but Young-il refused and they stayed firmly put where they were. Gi-hun let out a frustrated groan as he hit the back of his head against the door.
“Jung-bae wouldn’t want this for you. I don’t want this for you,” Young-il said quietly, “you’re more important than me, Gi-hun. You know it.”
The timer kept clicking.
“What are you talking about?” Gi-hun frowned, “I’m nobody. You’ve seen it yourself. I’ve tried to help the people here, and all I’ve done is fuck it up.”
“You’re wrong,” Young-il said and Gi-hun waited for him to continue, but he didn’t elaborate. At that, Gi-hun frowned and squeezed hard at Young-il’s hand, but the man stayed quiet and only let out a quiet noise. Other than that it was so quiet, other than the clicking.
Click. Click. Click.
Clank .
The knife fell to the floor between them and Gi-hun hadn’t realised that Young-il had been gently prying his fingers apart all this time to loosen his grip on it. Young-il’s hands weren’t done moving just yet either, as Gi-hun felt them move to his chest, grip at his vest and he could do nothing more but stare at the wall still. Gi-hun heard Young-il curse quietly as he pushed his forehead off the wall and tugged at Gi-hun’s vest, yanking him so close that they met in the middle. He panted quietly as his eyes finally met Young-il’s again. Gi-hun didn’t protest, he didn’t stop him and he didn’t think.
Click.
Click.
Click .
The last click was different, louder, right behind him and Gi-hun didn’t have time to react to it before he found himself being shoved through the door by Young-il. He wasn’t sure if he shouted “No!” only in his mind or if it was said out loud as well. It didn’t matter because Gi-hun stumbled back, tripped and fell backwards into the room. He saw a glimpse of Young-il and he looked all sorts of wrong. Something in his face made Gi-hun’s heart twist even more in his chest.
The game has ended.
Gi-hun moved towards the door but Young-il slammed it shut just as it was in reach and Gi-hun fell forwards against it. Young-il must’ve locked it because when Gi-hun reached for the handle, it wouldn’t budge, no matter how desperately Gi-hun tried to rip it open it just wouldn’t fucking move. Gi-hun shouted, pleaded, begged for Young-il to open the door, but he couldn’t hear anything from the other side. That is, until he heard the gunshots.
001, eliminated.