Chapter Text
Lumine's reason is simple: She needs the money.
Or rather, her brother does. Aether needs to get a heart operation as soon as possible, and she doesn't care how or where she'd get the money. Dirty, illegal, dangerous - she'd do it all, just so her brother could survive.
That's why she took up the offer of that strange guy at the bus station without thinking twice. Quick money – that was his offer. And if winning a game was all she needed to do and experiencing a bit of pain was the only repercussion, then so be it.
All her life, she had experienced pain – from the death of their parents to being put in an orphanage, and now, her brother having one foot in the grave. So she thought, what difference will one game make?
She just didn't think that this game would put her in a constant struggle between life and death.
Lumine dries her tears after winning that stupid game of tug-o-war, her heart still shaken from the harrowing near-death experience that her team faced.
Had it not been for the last-minute strategy she remembered from her and Aether's childhood, they would not have outpowered the other team.
“Thank you. You saved us,” one of the players tells her when they return to the living quarters.
Lumine only shakes her head. “I only did it so I could survive.”
She doesn't need people feeling indebted to her - not when she doesn't know what will happen next. Not when she doesn't know if she'll cause their demise sooner or later. She’s not a hero – she’s just another player trying to get out of here alive with the prize money.
The moment she saw the first body fall on the ground, she already knew – the Squid Game is not the place to form attachments with others.
Childe stares in curiosity at the blonde girl whose cold look in her golden eyes never faded since she returned for the second game.
Player 456.
She's a force to reckon with, that girl. She's strong and smart and agile - and she seemed to have this hidden compassionate side in her.
Yes, despite the standoffish attitude she tries to show everyone, he has seen her close the eyes of someone who got shot next to her during the dalgona game. He saw her offer water to an older player who already emptied their bottle during mealtime. He saw her help someone stand back up and regain their footing during the red light, green light game.
Unlike the other players, she isn’t too far deep in her greed – if she had greed at all, actually. Instead of a money-hungry look, Childe sees hope and desperation in her eyes. Those golden orbs may have dulled since she got into the arena, but they still sparkled nonetheless.
Player 456 is an enigma in this vile game. And Childe can't help but be intrigued by her. She had power, the kind of power that none of the brawny or deceitful players have.
He has been watching her from the very start, and it would be interesting to actually see her win.
He knows that it's so twisted of him to think this way, but he's actually a little jealous of the other players who get to measure their strength and strategies against her.
Watching her lead her team to victory during the previous game stirred something along the lines of awe in him - which is an awfully rare occurrence, by the way. Childe isn't easily impressed, but this girl had him keeping his eyes on her the entire time.
He wonders - if they faced each other in a game of tug-o-war, who would win?
Too bad he's with the other team.
The ones enforcing the rules of Squid Game.
Lumine uses all of her upper body strength to pull herself up the vent, keeping her grunts quiet so as not to alarm the guard standing watch outside the bathroom door.
She successfully gets in after swinging her legs in the air for a good few seconds, her arms already feeling sore from pulling her weight.
Gods, what she would do to get her hands on pain relief patches right now.
Lumine crawls into the duct and finds herself staring down at the people in pink uniform packing what looks like marbles in pouches.
Hmm, could that be for the next game?
She racks her brain for a possible kind of childhood game involving marbles that could lead to a fatal punishment. Gonggi, maybe? She’s pretty good at that; all it takes is great concentration and the ability to estimate well to win all of its rounds.
If that's the next game, then she has to get a good night's sleep.
Lumine gets startled when a rat suddenly crawls over her, and she fights the urge to yelp in disgust. The rodent jumps off her as quickly as it arrived, and the slight thud that it makes when its little feet land on the duct makes her crawl back out to where she entered.
With a racing heart, she climbs down from the duct and screws the vent back to how she originally found it. No one should notice that she went into the duct - else she doesn't know what repercussions await her. She might die -
Blood drains from her face when she turns around and finds the pink-uniformed guard already standing in front of her.
The person takes advantage of her shock and lunges at her. Their hands try to make a grab for her screwdriver, but she manages to deflect them for a while. Lumine fights off the guard and they crash against bathroom doors, their backs taking turns in being slammed by the other to the hardwood.
They end up rolling on the floor while still grappling with each other. Lumine eventually finds herself pinned down by the guard, her back against the cold tiles as she pants in exhaustion.
Big hands pry the pointed tool away from her hold and toss it to the far end of the bathroom, somewhere the blonde player can't reach even if she makes a dive for it now.
Shit.
"Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you," the guard says. Although the voice is muffled by a black mask which has a square shape drawn on the forehead, Lumine can tell that it's a man she's talking to.
A very annoyed man, actually. But he's not the only one annoyed here – she is, too, and she has every right to be.
"Do you expect me to believe that, you pink square rat scum?" she scoffs, her ability to make up an insulting nickname obviously not at its best right now. Maybe, just maybe, she can bullshit her way through this with a tough girl act.
The guard chuckles, leaning his masked face close to her face. The sound is eerie, ominous. In her ear, he whispers, “Well, if you can satisfy me in five minutes, I might let you live.”
It sends shivers down Lumine’s back. By it, she’s not sure if she means his offer or his dangerously low and husky voice.
She gulps, watching the masked man’s tall figure tower over her as he stands and leaves her lying on the floor. Perhaps he thinks that she won't attack him when she's unarmed.
(Well, he might be right.)
She pushes her body up to a kneeling position, unzipping his hot pink jumpsuit uniform down to where it ends in an area by his crotch. His body is still covered by a shirt and boxers underneath, thank goodness.
“Okay,” she breathlessly whispers, playing along with his scheme. Does that sound seductive enough?
Lumine bites her lips and looks up at the guard, fluttering her eyelashes as she moves closer. She feels his hand on the back of her head, threading through her hair as she hooks her fingers on the waistband of his boxers.
And then she stands and pulls his boxers up from the front to give him a wedgie.
(… Or not.)
The guard’s shock allows her to punch him on the stomach with ease. She smirks, scoffing “You pig” as she throws another left hook.
Her victorious streak doesn’t last too long, though. The masked man deflects her fifth punch and catches her hands once more.
What’s weird is that he keeps on laughing the entire time.
“Good girl,” he tells her when he shoves her to the wall, hands held captive above her head. She grunts, continuing to struggle despite the confusion flooding her mind.
“You have the instincts and trust issues to win this game. I’m glad to be proven right,” the man says. He then winces a little. “Oh, and definitely the strong punches, too. I think those last two hits will leave a bruise.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Lumine asks him, gritting her teeth as she makes a failed attempt at kicking his family jewels. She's confused - wasn't he asking for sexual favors?
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to punch me again. I’m serious this time,” the guard says. “Not that I mind the punches, but it gets in the way of a decent conversation.”
Lumine wanted to laugh. And she does it, because it sounded too absurd to her. A decent conversation? With a guard in this stupid game? Yeah, right.
He huffs and assures her that he gains nothing from hurting a player. “In fact, I would be dead if I hurt you. They like watching each and every one of you fight and plummet to death, you know.”
Lumine furrows her eyebrows, a lump forming in her throat. It should’ve been obvious that this game has sadists behind it – what else could be the explanation for it, right? “They?”
The guard nods. “The VIPs running this game. They’re not all physically here yet, but they’ll arrive in time for the last two rounds.”
“And you’re just telling me this because?” the blonde girl asks, full of suspicion towards this mysterious man. As he said, she has trust issues and someone with authority over the players is not exempt.
In fact, she’s even warier towards him because of his role in the game.
He may not be a player who intends to nab the prize money all for himself, but he’s been watching people die since the start. He may have even been the one who made them die, for all she knows.
If he isn’t wearing his mask, Player 456 would’ve seen the way Childe frowns and scrunches his eyebrows as he gets deep in thought.
“Well, I’ve been watching you since the first game and I just think that it would be a waste if you die here.”
“A waste?” she sneers, hatred filling her eyes. “Weren’t you people in pink rubbing it to our faces that we’re not a big loss to the world? That we’re just people with piles of debt and nothing to contribute to society?”
Her glare burns. Childe can feel it pierce holes through his mask with its intensity. “That’s their opinion, not mine.”
With that, he takes off his mask with one hand and lets her see his bare face. Ocean blue eyes gazing back at her golden ones, he says, “Just so you know, I’m breaking all our biggest rules right here by taking my mask off and talking to you.”
There’s something about seeing an actual human face instead of a mask that makes Lumine feel less agitated. She huffs and relaxes, which makes the guard finally let her go. She rubs her wrists and slouches against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.
Stay vigilant, she tells herself nonetheless.
“And what happens to you for doing that?” she asks him.
The guard shrugs. “Same as the repercussions for you guys when you fail the game,” he says, which makes Lumine’s eyebrows rise in surprise. They’re at the risk of dying, too?
“Hmm… let me recount the rules,” the blue-eyed boy hums. “If we talk to our supervisor without permission, if we take off our masks, if we refuse to follow orders, if we interact with a player outside of the game, if we reveal our identity to anyone, if we interfere in the playing experience… we’re dead meat.”
Lumine feels her heart race while he lists all of the potential violations that would put his life in danger. It clicks in her head, why the guards in pink uniforms never help the players no matter how hard they beg for it.
Still, she can’t sympathize with them when they’re the ones pulling the trigger.
“Yeah, I don’t expect you to feel bad for us. Don’t worry,” the guy brushes off, noticing the troubled look on her face. “I don’t feel bad for us, either.”
Lumine sighs and says okay, which makes an awkward silence hang in the air. She stares at him, taking in the details of his face - from his sharp, pointed nose, to the light spread of freckles on his cheeks, the dull blue shade of his eyes, the absurd length of his lashes, and even the red-orange hue of his fluffy hair.
"You look young," she remarks, unable to stop herself.
The guard laughs. "Yeah. Mid-twenties," he tells her. It's not like she needed to know - what would she do with that information, anyway? But still, she nods and says she's in the same age bracket.
"So what are you doing here? Why join as a guard? Does it pay a lot, too?"
Childe looks away. "Survive the next round and I'll tell you," he says. He doesn't want to rope her in just yet; it's too messy, too risky. And most of all, he wants her to be blissfully unaware of who he really is.
Player 456 laughs, not noticing his hesitation. "What, you think knowing more about you is some kind of a reward that will motivate me to play well?"
He shrugs and says maybe. "Won't it be nice to get close to a hot guy while fighting for your life?" he says with a playful wink.
Lumine rolls her eyes, baffled by how this guy still has the gall to flirt in this situation. "That's it, I'm going back to the quarters," she says.
She pushes her back off the wall and takes a few steps forward. But before she can go far, the guard wraps his hand around her wrist and prevents her from walking out.
"No, not yet," he says in a troubled whisper.
"Why?" Lumine asks, annoyed. "Are you gonna ask me to satisfy you in five minutes again? In exchange for all that information I didn't even ask for?"
Childe sighs heavily. "They're intentionally making the players fight tonight - weed out the weak, that's what they said," he says, rolling his eyes to show his distaste. "It's best if you don't go back there while the fight is going on."
That makes the blonde girl stop from tugging her wrist away from his hold. She goes quiet for a good minute - then in a deadpan voice, she says, "So you're saying that I should just let them kill each other."
Childe hums. "Self-preservation always comes first, am I right?"
Player 456 snorts. "Well, yes. But it's odd hearing that from someone who's risking his life by secretly talking to me in the women's bathroom."
He laughs, although the sound seems more exhausted than amused. He doesn't want to fight her; he just needs her to stay here until it's fine to go back out there.
"Well, I told you. I don't think I want you to die."
Lumine, also physically, mentally, and emotionally tired from today's torturous game, decides to just give in to his request. She lets her hand go limp in his hold, a clear sign that she isn't resisting this time.
"Well, I don't want to die, either," she sighs. The guard lets go of her wrist and she plops down on the floor, legs crossed and chin resting on her palm.
"Thank you," he says, appreciating her cooperation. He sits across her on the floor, also crossing his long legs. "And for the record, it wasn't my intention for you to think that I'm asking for a blowjob or whatever."
Lumine laughs sarcastically. "Yeah, right."
The guy raises his hands. "I mean, it would've been a nice bonus. I wouldn't have minded; you're gorgeous. But really, I was testing you and your ability to fight back. Which you're really good at, by the way."
She narrows her eyes at him, trying to ignore the heat that crept on her cheeks when he called her gorgeous and good at fighting.
With all the grime on her face and dark circles under her eyes, she doubts the genuineness of the compliment. But the good at fighting part, she can acknowledge. She did get herself a taekwondo black belt before her parents died, and she did spend a good chunk of her life doing odd jobs, too.
"What would you need that for?"
The guard grins. "I told you: Survive the next round and I'll tell you."
"You know, I'll do that just to spite you," she tells him, sending a petty glare in his direction. She hates it when people do that - that thing where they let her know that there's something she doesn't know.
They sit in silence for the next few minutes, with only Lumine's yawn being heard in the bathroom. The guard offers to let her use his shoulder as a headrest, and she fights the temptation to say yes with all her might.
"Fine. You don't want to owe anyone anything. That's also a good survival instinct," the guy mumbles, and she can almost hear the pout in his voice. She might be mistaken, though.
Childe observes her move around restlessly, fidgeting and shifting from one position to another every five minutes or so. Her eyebrows are scrunched together, and she heaves a deep sigh every now and then.
It almost looks like she's uneasy.
"Are you okay?" he asks her, concerned.
The girl's golden eyes find his, and he sees a swirl of conflict in them. "It doesn't feel right. Just sitting here while people are dying there doesn't feel right."
Childe stares at her wordlessly, his mind whirring with thoughts about how his impressions of her weren't wrong at all. She's itching to help others as much as she can possibly do.
"If you go out there right now, you'll probably be met by players desperate to bring up the body count so that they can get the prize money faster," he warns her.
But the glint in her eyes tells him that Player 456 already made up her mind.
Lumine shakes her head, standing up and dusting off her green tracksuit. "It might be suspicious that I'm missing from the whole thing, anyway," she says, trying to play it cool.
But deep down, she knows that she's worried. She's worried for everyone who clearly isn't cut out for physically demanding activities, let alone a murder spree. Just because they aren't on par with the other players' physical strength doesn't mean they deserve to survive less.
The guard grabs her arm and tells her to hold still for a second. He stands and walks near one of the stalls, squatting down to pick up something. When he returns beside her, he hands her the screwdriver that got lost in their scuffle earlier.
"You need a weapon to survive tonight. I wouldn't hesitate to give you my gun, but that would raise suspicions," he tells her. In his voice, there's an underlying tender tone that somehow says take care.
Lumine shoves the screwdriver into her pocket and nods. "A little fight won't kill me," she assures him.
"Wait," Childe calls out one last time before they both reach the door. He's wearing his mask again, uniform fixed and shotgun strapped across his chest.
The blonde girl turns her head to face him, an eyebrow raised in question.
"Tomorrow. Don't pick someone you're close to, if you want to give them the chance to survive. Unless you want to play hero and die at the arena, don't let your heart do the talking. Forget mercy just this once," he tells her.
She asks him what he means, but he just waves her off and makes her promise to do exactly as he says.
"Okay," she replies, a small smile forcing its way to her lips. "You owe me information, after all."
Childe leads her back to the living quarters, watching with hesitation when the pastel-colored double doors open and flash him a sight of people stabbing each other. He isn't a stranger to blood-splattered walls, but seeing a clueless Player 456 walk towards it makes him feel uneasy.
He turns to the other guards dressed in pink uniforms, the shapes circle and triangle drawn on their masks. His voice is a low baritone, dark and dangerous, when he speaks.
"If anyone tries to hurt 456, stop the fighting immediately and kill them."
"Are you okay?"
Lumine checks the arms of the younger female player for any cuts or scratches, relief settling in when she spots none. 149 is her teammate in the tug-o-war game, but they go as far back as the red light, green light game where Lumine saved her after she tripped while running to the finish line.
"I'm fine, 456. But you're not," the silver-haired girl says, looking with worry at Lumine whom she now treats like an older sister. "You have a cut on your cheek. It looks like it must hurt a lot."
Lumine reaches up to touch the spot that 149 is pointing to, wincing when her hand comes in contact with the cut. 149 offers to help her clean it up, but she refuses, wanting to handle it alone like she promised herself to. She excuses herself and makes a beeline for the bathroom, not making eye contact with any living soul on the way.
She bites her while washing the blood off from the cut, hoping that water is enough to clean it and prevent infection.
"You really should've stayed here like I told you," a male voice echoes from the doorway.
Lumine turns her head and finds a guard leaning against the frame, his stance carefree and almost smug. "Is that… you?" she asks, which sounds dumb - she knows. But she has no idea what his name is, or what to call him.
Anyway, he'd understand it if he's the same guy she talked to.
The guard nods and makes a mock curtsy. "Pink square rat scum, at your service."
Lumine is sure he would be smirking behind that mask. After all, he was right about the fight.
Childe walks towards her, taking off his mask while his long legs carry him to where she's standing. He tips her chin towards him, sliding a finger gently a few centimeters under the cut on her cheek.
"Who did this to you?" he asks, a dangerous glint appearing in his blue eyes.
The blonde girl stares back at him, eyes wide and speechless. He can feel the soft exhale escaping her pink lips, a little chapped and bloody but pink nonetheless.
"Player 096," she replies in a hushed tone.
Childe closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath, feeling the need to exercise violence bubble inside him. "Where is he now?"
456 lightly shoves his hand away and narrows her eyes. "He was shot dead by the other guards when they broke up the fight," she says matter-of-factly.
Thank goodness for his mask, or else she would've seen him grinning.
"Can't say he didn't deserve it," he says, not an ounce of pity or remorse in his voice.
Lumine hears her heartbeat pound loudly in her ears when the guard gently wipes away the water around the cut on her cheek and places a Band-Aid over it. The lightness of his touch makes it feel like he's doing his best not to hurt her.
But of course, that might only be an illusion. A fleeting feeling that her troubled mind is creating in this surreal situation.
"What are you doing?" she asks, her tone firm and serious. Unwavering. Cold.
"Making sure your cut doesn't get infected," he tells her, as if it's the simplest and most obvious thing in the world, before moving to whisper in her ear. "Don't forget what I told you about the next game, okay?"
Lumine tries to shut her ears at Player 149’s incessant pleas to be her partner for the next game. Her mind is focused on one thing and one thing only: the guard’s advice to not pair up with anyone who she wouldn’t dare hurt.
Player 149 is that person to her; a little sister that she never had. Although she tries to keep her walls up and refuses to acknowledge that the girl is the nearest semblance to a friend and family she has in this game, Player 149 is someone whose blood she doesn’t want on her hands.
And if 149 hates her for it, then so be it.
“It’s for our own good. Don’t pick me as your partner. Please,” she tells 149. Tears prick the girl’s eyes, feeling sad and a little betrayed by Lumine’s actions. If only she could say the truth behind her insistence not to be her partner, she would.
Lumine pries 149’s hand off her wrist and points out a guy standing in the distance. “Pick him,” she says, then points to a girl from another corner. “Or her. Anyone but me. They’ll give you a better chance at survival.”
Because Lumine isn’t giving up her own shot at leaving this game alive. Not for anyone.
She walks up to a guy whom she has never interacted with before and tells him to be her partner. He agrees pretty quickly – Lumine’s strength and strategy skills aren’t a secret, after all. She feels really bad about how hopeful he looks, excitedly talking about surviving the next game with such a capable partner. Lumine can only nod.
She realizes why the guard told her not to pick someone close to her when the next game’s instructions are announced over the PA system.
Each player is given a bag with ten marbles, which they’ll use in a guessing game with their partner. One has to guess whether the number of marbles that the other hides in their hand are odd or even. If they’re correct, they get to take all the marbles in the hand. If not, the one holding the marbles takes an equivalent number to the one they’re holding from the other player’s pile.
They’re only given thirty minutes to finish the game, but it can finish earlier if one person from the pair has lost all of their marbles to the other. Lumine’s knees turn to jelly, the pouch of marbles in her hand feeling so heavy.
“Hey, it’s okay,” her partner says, noticing the slump in her shoulders. “It’s okay.”
He encourages her to start playing, and Lumine couldn’t even look him in the eyes. She hates this game, she hates this game, she keeps chanting in her head.
It’s silent as they play. Lumine jumps whenever she hears a gunshot in the distance, closing her eyes and swallowing the lump forming in her throat.
She tries to keep track of how many gunshots have been fired already; how many players have lost their lives in this round. There are still two minutes left based on the wall timer, and the sinking feeling in her stomach gets heavier now that she’s holding eleven marbles in her hand.
She looks to her left and sees Player 149’s worried face as she puts marbles in her partner’s hand. Lumine can’t help but wonder how many marbles 149 has left. Hopefully, her decision to push her to another partner doesn’t go to waste.
Her own partner – Player 114 – guesses “odd” on his turn, and Lumine opens her hand to show four marbles resting on her palm. 114 sighs, taking four marbles from his hand and giving it to her.
“Why did you join this game?” 114 asks her before starting his turn. Lumine looks up at him, biting her lip as she debates whether or not she should answer. 114 senses her reluctance, so he tells her his reason for joining instead.
“My sister has a chronic illness that makes her really sickly. My parents and I have been working hard to buy her medicine and pay for her hospitalizations, but it’s too expensive, you know? We ended up in piles of debt, and I thought this game could help us,” he says melancholically.
Lumine feels her heart ache, knowing that she’s in the same situation. Why do people like them have to suffer?
“If you get out of here alive, can you do me a favor?” 114 asks. Lumine nods, thinking that it’s the least she can do now that she has 15 marbles in her pouch.
“Help my sister get her special prescriptions. Her name is Anna, we live in Mondstadt,” he says. He holds out his hand, motioning for Lumine to guess the number of marbles he’s holding. But before she can say a word, a flash of silver appears before her eyes.
It’s Player 149. She’s crying, trembling. Her eyes hold fear in them, and she seeks solace in Lumine’s arms. Lumine hugs her, patting down her back to soothe her shaking figure.
“What’s going on?” she asks 149. Sniffing, the girl says she’s down to her last marble. The ominous look on both girls’ faces makes it obvious that they know what comes next. It’s inevitable.
“I just… want to thank you for playing with me,” 149 says. “You saved me during the first round and you saved me again during tug-o-war. I wouldn’t have gone this far if not for you.”
Lumine doesn't realize it at first, but tears are already falling from her eyes. She's crying; crying for someone she met in this vicious game. “No, no. Make one last bet with your partner. It’s not too late. You can still turn this around. You can –”
149 shakes her head. “Just… remember me, okay? Paimon, the girl you saved twice. 149, who almost died if not for you. I don’t know if you thought of me as a friend, but I thought of you as mine.”
Lumine did. That’s why she tried to save her again this round. But it looks like there’s no use in avoiding unfortunate fates in Squid Game.
Childe hears her sniffles before he even sees her.
He pushes the stall door open and finds 456 slumped in a toilet seat, head in her hands as she weeps. Her shoulders tremble with every sob, the sound muffled by her hands and the sleeves of her tracksuit.
Without saying a word, Childe places his hand on the back of her head and pushes her forward to him. Her head rests against his abdomen, and he rubs her back while telling her to just let it all out.
"P-Paimon's an orphan. S-she just wanted to stop living a life where s-she needs to pickpocket j-just to have food," she sobs against his undershirt. The piece of clothing is wet now, and it's a good thing he unzipped his pink tracksuit already. It would've been bothersome to explain where he got the tear stains if others saw it.
The image of the younger player's lifeless body is burned in Lumine's mind. After going back to her partner to finish the marble game, Paimon was shot not too far from where she and 114 were sitting. Still trying to keep her tough girl front, Lumine refused to cover her ears when the gun was fired, so she heard it all. She heard the shot that took Paimon's life.
The same went for 114, who died right in front of her after he lost all his remaining marbles in just one turn. He has a sibling who also needed medical treatment, like Aether, and it made her feel terrible. It made her feel guilty.
They both just wanted to help their siblings survive. Why must they suffer like this?
"T-they didn't deserve to die," Lumine continues to cry into the guard's shirt. And it wasn't just them. The older woman whose kind smile reminded her of her own deceased mother, the raven-haired girl who went to the same high school as her and Aether, the bankrupt gentleman who used to live down their street -
They were all gone.
Childe kneels in front of her and pries her hands away from her face. He tucks her blonde hair behind her ears, cupping her cheeks in his hands.
"It's not your fault," he whispers, wiping her tears with his thumbs. But she only looks at him like she doesn't believe it.
Childe feels his heart constrict as he looks at the pain and emptiness swirling in her golden eyes. He feels himself wanting to make it stop hurting for her; he feels himself wanting her grief to go away.
"It's all part of the game."
He gently swipes his thumb along her cheekbones, his touch uncharacteristically tender and feather-light. Her ragged breaths caress his skin, and he finds himself looking from her eyes to her lips and back and forth.
Lumine closes her eyes when the guard leans in and presses his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She doesn't move - neither does she object nor reciprocate his kiss. She feels too empty to do either. Too hollow. Too lost.
Emotions make her weak, so she tried her best not to show or feel any during the game. Happiness, sadness, anger, pity - she had to numb herself from them all.
But sometimes, it just gets a little too much.
Anything would eventually burst if what it's holding in is beyond its capacity.
She sobs into his lips, the blood-stained images of everyone from the very first game flashing in her mind. Disturbing her like an unwanted guest. Haunting her like a terrible nightmare.
Perhaps this is the consequence of living.
Lumine then pulls the guard's face closer to hers, desperate to feel something - anything. She pours her grief into the kiss, teeth tugging at his lips as if it would ease the numbness inside of her. She weaves her hand through his hair, clenching the soft locks in her fist as she sloppily plunges her tongue into his mouth.
For a moment, she allows herself to have this bit of peace, this bit of pleasure. Just for a moment.
Childe can tell by the intensity of 456's kiss that she needs to dull her pain. He tries to help her by matching her passion with his own hungry lips and tongue; although he must admit that his is more self-indulgent.
His hands move from her cheeks - one traveling to the small of her back and the other to her waist. The latter runs up and down her sides, while the other pushes her closer to him. He feels her wrap her legs around his waist, hands gripping his head firmly as if to stop him from ever escaping.
Not that he would, not when he's too captivated.
Her lips feel salty because of her tears, but there's something about it that tastes so delicious, so enchanting. He craves more, more...
They break away from each other after a while, loudly panting as a result of momentarily forgetting the need to breathe.
Lumine stares into the guard's azure eyes, urging herself to get lost in it as a distraction. Maybe she'll feel something if she explores its depths. "What's your name?" she asks him.
The guard blinks, surprised by the sudden personal question. "Childe. You can call me that," he answers.
Lumine traces the freckles on his cheeks, her fingers slowly traveling down to his lips and brushing against it gently.
She must have lost her mind. She must have lost her mind after playing against death every day. She must have lost her mind after witnessing the people around her perish one by one. She must have lost her mind after silently mourning for all the people whom she tried so hard to merely see as strangers that will come and go in her life. That must be the only explanation for this.
"Well, Childe, I'm Lumine," she whispers, her soft breath touching his skin. She hasn't said her name out loud for so long – the only exception being earlier in the game when she mentioned it twice. However, the only ones who heard it are dead now.
Euphoria. Perhaps a moment of euphoria will help.
"Make me forget. Even just for a little while."
Childe caresses her tear-stained cheeks and presses a soft peck on her lips. "Happy to oblige," he murmurs, before putting his mouth back on hers in a torrid kiss. He tugs down the zipper of her tracksuit, his hands spreading warmth under her shirt. Both pieces of clothing go off in a short matter of time, discarded in a pile on the floor with his own pink tracksuit and black undershirt.
Lumine. If he didn't already know beforehand, he would've told her that it's a beautiful name.
Lumine lays her head back on Childe's shoulder, one of her hands playing with his hair as he peppers her neck with post-coital kisses. She's still sitting on his lap, her naked back pressed against his scar-littered chest. Childe is still deep inside her – that, she can feel with her other hand resting near her core, where it's interlaced with one of his hands.
"So, are you going to tell me?" she asks him. He hums while sucking on her skin, mumbling "what do you mean" against it.
"You said you'd tell me what you're doing here as a guard, if I survive the next round. That, and why you're talking to me," she reminds him.
Her tears have dried, her mind has cleared. One would think that it's odd how she gets to bounce back too fast, but that's just something she has learned to do in all those years of suffering. Society made it so that people like Lumine had no choice but to deal with the pain quickly and move on; after all, they still had mouths to feed, bills to pay, loan sharks to beg.
"If that was an empty promise, I'll make sure you don't walk out of here alive."
He stops kissing her neck and chuckles, making his chest rumble which, in turn, left tingling sensations on her core.
Cute.
Childe wraps one of his arms around her and presses a quick peck to her shoulder. He smiles against her skin, amused by the tone of her threat. So far, he's enjoying riling her up, her reactions too good for this world.
"Didn't they take your screwdriver away already?" he jokes, hand reaching up to turn her face to him and indulge her in a kiss. Lumine responds quite satisfyingly, a moan escaping her mouth as his tongue explores deeper and deeper.
He pulls away, his intense gaze never leaving her swollen lips. Her guts and her glares - goddamn, those make him so weak in the knees.
"I was the winner of the last game," he says. And with their bodies pressed so closely together, he easily feels Lumine's breath hitch.
"You were... what?" she asks him, golden eyes wide in shock.
Childe nods, the expression on his face dead serious. "The 11th Squid Game, the very last one before this. Same as you, I got recruited. Same as you, I joined. I won, and then I got invited to participate this year again."
He pauses, blinking to smile at her. "But not as a player."
Lumine rolls her eyes at him. Obviously.
"So you must be filthy rich now," she points out. Childe grins, his hand traveling down… down until it’s rubbing her core and giving her pleasure.
"Now we're talking," he smugly says, a playful glint in his blue eyes. Whispering to her ear, he adds, "I've still got most of my prize money in the bank. Want them?"
Lumine moans.
She grips Childe's chin and pushes his face to hers, connecting their lips in a hungry kiss. In this short while that she's allowing herself to feel, she has decided to go all out.
When they pull away from each other to breathe, Lumine puts on a serious expression on her face. "Why would you return? Don't the memories haunt you?"
What she really means to ask is, how can he stomach seeing all these things happen again? But Childe only shrugs, not giving her a proper response.
Lumine doesn't prod on the topic, not wanting to be the reason why he digs into a potential past trauma. Instead, she asks why he made the decision to talk to her. Out of all the 456 Squid Game players, why her?
"I want you to win. I watched you from the start, and I thought that you have what it takes to win," he tells her, his hands wandering on her skin.
"You're smart." He presses a wet kiss to her neck. "You're strong." Another kiss. "You're motivated." Another kiss. "You know what you want." Another kiss. "You won't stop, no matter what."
She opens her mouth to push him to say more, thinking that he can't be risking his life by breaking the game rules (like he said) just for that. But before she can squeak out a word, Childe silences her with his lips on hers. He thrusts into her, effectively distracting Lumine.
"Let's get cleaned up. It'll be lights out soon," he tells her once they're done, giving her hips a light squeeze before pulling out of her.
She watches him with caution while putting her clothes back on. Her heart is racing, and so is her mind, now swarmed with thoughts about this man whose very lips were on her just a few moments ago.
If there's anything she learned in the outside world, it's that no one would be too kind to help and even risk their lives that simple.
And this world inside the game is no exception.
Lumine tries not to flinch at the sound of shattering glass and pained screams, with a faint dash of bones cracking and guts splattering on the ground.
Another player has fallen to death, she thinks while slightly wincing. That's the fourth player, right? Or was it fifth already?
The next game was an absurd game of chance, where the players who chose to go first are basically guaranteed good as dead. Two clear glass tiles laid side by side in two columns that are almost a 24-story building high up from the ground – they had to step on those to cross to the other side of the arena.
The catch? One of the two tiles is actually brittle glass, which will break the moment a person steps on it.
They decided the order of players themselves by voluntarily picking numbers, without knowing what the next round is or what it entails. Like the previous game, Childe only gave her a little advice: To pick a number somewhere near the end.
She chose eleven, remembering that he's the eleventh winner of Squid Game.
So far, it's proving to be a fairly good number. There are 16 tiles and 10 players before her. They'd have most of the track covered when her turn to take a guess comes - and that is if nobody figures out all the right tiles before her.
Lumine takes a deep breath as she steps on the next tile, the entire line moving one step forward as the player at the very front guesses correctly. She checks the timer on the wall, calculating how long they have left.
Still a safe amount.
But then the seventh player freaks out when the person in front of them steps on the wrong tile and falls. They sit on their spot, head in hands as they make a long, fervent prayer not to die. It takes up time and makes the eighth player angry, which soon makes a fight break out.
Seventh and eighth fall together when eighth tries to push seventh off the tiles. Seventh holds onto eighth, both of them plunging to their death.
At the fifteenth tile, tenth falls.
Lumine absolutely cannot believe that the state of her life now lies in a left-or-right decision. How terrible would it be, if she died because she picked the other one? The illusion of a choice - Hobson's choice, she learned this once during one of her part-time jobs as an assistant - that's what this is.
That's what this entire game is - an illusion of choice that things could get better.
"Hurry!" she hears behind her. There were three more players after her, and the timer was already down to its last fifty seconds. If she doesn't move, someone would probably shove her to break one of the tiles. Like what happened to the seventh player.
She refuses to die like that.
She takes a hesitant half-step forward on the tile she's currently on, and that's when she hears the faint jingling sound from her pocket. Her golden eyes light up, remembering something she learned while working an odd job at a glass manufacturing company.
Not all glasses are the same.
Lumine holds up a hand and tells everyone that she knows how to distinguish the non-brittle glass. She reaches into her pocket and takes out two marbles, which Childe slipped into her pocket before they left the bathroom.
"Use it when you need to make an urgent decision. But only when you're very desperate, because you can't get it back," he told her then.
He’s given her good advice again. She thinks about how he’d probably gloat about it to her later, but then she remembers him mentioning that he probably wouldn't be around tonight.
The VIPs are coming to watch in person, he told her. She scowled then, the idea of those VIPs viewing them players as some sort of entertainment leaving a sour taste in her mouth.
Guards like Childe, she can still consider forgiving. But the ones on the very top of this game? She could never, not for all the lives they owe.
They could just give those prize money to the players or make them work for it in a decent way; but no, they had to pit them against each other in an arena that reeks of death and desperation. All while knowing that they probably wouldn't say no – because they're right, the world outside is just as much of a cruel hell as this game is.
Her distraction being absent because of their arrival - just when she still has too many things to ask him - is only cherry on top.
Lumine throws a marble at the glass tile on the left, listening to the sound it makes. As she expected, it's different from the sound that the one on the right made when she tossed the other marble to it.
With a smirk, she takes a confident leap forward. Safety envelopes her like a comfy blanket on a cruel, stormy night; but maybe the breath of relief that she took was a bit too soon.
Childe leans back on the plush couch, a goblet of fire-water between his lips. He watches the game unfold through the big glass window at the very front of the room, his face hidden by a studded red mask that gives a great contrast to his ocean blue eyes.
He smirks when he sees Lumine's figure making it to the other end of the platform, safe and sound like he expected her to. What an amusing sight – no one else would have expected a flower like her to outlast taller and bigger trees. Not unless they looked at the glimmer in her eyes and saw the thorns hidden in them.
Good girl. She made use of his advice again.
"456 is too good. Can I change my bet now? Mine just died anyway," a male voice booms from the front of the room.
Childe shakes his head in annoyance, his gloved finger tracing the rim of his goblet. Just the other day, this same finger was tracing Lumine's lips as she mewled his name. "Fuck off, she's mine."
The same person snorts. "Do you think I care, Tartaglia?"
Childe scoffs, and in a matter of seconds, his feet have already carried him across the room, hand wrapped around a fellow masked man's throat. Childe's blue eyes hold an intense glare in them, the pressure on his hands too strong with no hesitation to kill.
"Want to say that again, Dottore?"
A hand clamps down on his shoulder, long and sharp nails digging into his perfectly polished personalized suit. Its grip is strong, too strong, and he's successfully pulled away from the man in a jeweled black-and-white mask before he can do anything worse.
"Tartaglia, you can't lay your hands on a fellow VIP," a masked blond woman warns, eyeing him sternly. "Follow me, we need to talk."