Chapter Text
The separation had been so nasty that it left behind painful scars; a myriad of physical, emotional, mental and financial wounds that could only stem from someone one had loved more truly and inexplicably than they could ever love themselves.
It had been 2 months since Gi-hun had seen Sang-woo. Their last meeting had been on an overcast, windy Tuesday evening where the police had forcefully separated them outside of their mothers' home as Ga-yeong, flanked by her grandmothers, looked on in horror. The fallout that came with the discovery of each other's monetary wrongdoings had bred such violent outbursts, animosity and conflict that neither would have access to Ga-yeong until they each passed a month of breathalyser tests to confirm their sobriety, whilst showing proof of beginning to resolve their accumulated debt.
Now, in an auditorium filled with individuals in similar situations, Gi-hun found himself facing his husband once more as the name that had filled his life flashed in white letters on the massive screen above - Cho Sang-woo.
Despite some half-hearted efforts at wading through the crowd to get to his not-yet-ex-husband, Gi-hun only managed to catch up to the taller man as they entered the dusty playground that would serve as the setting for Game 1.
"Sang-woo!" he snapped, grabbing the familiar bicep in an iron grip. "What the hell are you doing here? Your mother told me you had left on a business trip that would resolve some of the debt!" Gi-hun scoffed and shook his head, confusion marring his look of displeasure as he mockingly drawled, "My bad. I should know to never trust Cho Sang-woo, SNU alum, the pride of Ssangmun-dong!"
Sang-woo narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Still can't keep your mouth shut, Cho Gi-hun, gambler extraordinaire?" His eyes drifted across the other participants filtering in as he turned to listen to the game instructions being delivered over the intercom, dismissing Gi-hun with a curt, "Can we do this later?"
With that, Sang-woo strolled forward into the crowd of people, leaving an utterly confused Gi-hun behind as dozens more participants swarmed between them.
The rules of the game were simple, or so it seemed - one merely had to follow the children's game of Red Light, Green Light, where one could only move whilst the doll's back was turned. The aim was to cross the finish line before the 5-minute timer was up; however, if you moved whilst the doll was 'watching', you would be eliminated. It seemed bizarre to Gi-hun that such a childish game would be used in a high-stakes competition, but he swallowed any complaints, remembering the 100,000 won from the train station.
It was soon evident that it was no typical game, as participants began dropping like flies for the slightest movements, guns firing endless bullets into the sea of scrambling individuals in an all-too-casual massacre.
Gi-hun was quickly trampled to the ground, pinned beneath a falling corpse as chaos reigned around them, the desperate cries of dying humans punctuated only by the incessant stream of gunshots. It seemed impossible to move with the tagger increasing its song speed as Gi-hun struggled to remove himself from beneath the weight of the corpse.
His heart rate almost doubled as Sang-woo's voice rang across his ears, panic evident in the younger man's tone. "Gi-hun, don't turn your head. Just listen to me. You're going to die if you stay like that so you need to get up. I think that doll is a motion sensor, so you won't get caught if you just hide behind someone else."
Gi-hun barely had time to process his ex-mate's words as the tagger's song started once more and Sang-woo hurried forward, stopping next to Gi-hun just in time. "If I try to get you up, we may both die," Sang-woo hissed, eyes darting from the doll to his ex-lover.
Gi-hun's mind instantly fell to Ga-yeong and their mothers; what good would it be, risking both of their lives? "No," he whispered, "I can get up whilst its back is turned. Keep moving forward, Sang-woo. Go on."
Sang-woo looked torn but moved forward regardless, slightly crouching behind another participant as the song paused once more. He turned back to Gi-hun, face pinched in worry as he pointed to the timer, "Hurry! There's no time."
As soon as the doll's head was turned once more, Gi-hun scrambled up from the ground, stopping his limbs from unnecessary movement as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. He was able to grind to a halt right behind a taller man, but this safety net was short-lived as the man was gunned down moments later.
Spurred on by seeing Sang-woo's 218 near the finish line, Gi-hun barely got a few more steps forward when a fallen player grabbed onto his ankle with a vice-like grip. Pleading did not stop the man from holding on to Gi-hun for dear life, but he managed to get away, only to find himself soon stumbling over the arm of a corpse.
Sang-woo had already crossed the finish line, despair marring his face that should have shown relief as his eyes met Gi-hun's. There were only seconds left when a strong hand gripped the back of Gi-hun's jacket, stopping him from plummeting face-first into the dust.
Sang-woo looked on, eyes wide in horror, fear and a tiny bead of hope as he watched a man of South-Asian descent hold his ex husband mere inches from the ground. As the doll turned its head for the last time, Gi-hun and his saviour managed to throw themselves over the finish line within the 3 seconds left, wincing as the guns disposed of everyone left on the playground in quick succession.
Sang-woo was shaking as he hoisted Gi-hun up from the ground and into his arms in a desperate hug, publicly showing his emotions in an uncharacteristic way. Animosity and resentment aside, a love that lasted 40 years didn't just dissipate overnight. Gi-hun could barely catch his breath as his hands gripped the soft material that clothed Sang-woo's back. They quickly separated as the guards, still clothed in pink and masked with shape symbols, barged in seconds later, instructing all participants to return to the main room in single file.
An eerie silence reigned after those who had passed Game 1 had been resettled into the main room, the weight of the other participants who had been so mindlessly killed making the air tense and heavy.
Gi-hun and Sang-woo sat close to each other, knees brushing if the other shifted or moved slightly, with the man that had saved Gi-hun a few feet away. Gi-hun had already thanked the man thrice times over, and yet he found his lips moving once more, thanking both Sang-woo and the other man for saving his life.
Sang-woo sent him an unreadable look before turning his attention to the South-Asian man and bowing his head slightly, muttering, "Thank you for saving my spou- ex-spouse." The man only mustered a small smile, looking between them both as he stated, "I'm glad you're both alive."
The chime of the automatic doors opening caused all participants to jerk to their feet as the guards marched in. Sang-woo and Gi-hun exchanged a worried glance before Sang-woo slightly pushed Gi-hun behind him, unconsciously making a move to protect the man that had owned his heart since he was a child.
Amidst the chaos of participants begging to be released from the competition, hearing the cash prize and Sang-woo stepping up to remind the guards of the third clause, Gi-hun barely had time to process that he had to vote first. His mind kept falling to Ga-yeong and what would happen if he and Sang-woo both died; they needed to be out of this hellhole for their daughter's sake.
Gi-hun looked on in horror as each participant voted in a way that kept the score equal, his heart plummeting to his stomach as Sang-woo stepped forward to vote for them to stay. He didn't understand how anyone, much more the man he had married all those years ago, could put money above others' lives.
He watched on with bated breath whilst the voting continued, shaking hands clasped in horror as no. 001 - the old man - deliberated his choice for a moment, before finally pressing the green button.
It was 101 to play, 100 to leave. The games would not be terminated; no, they were here to stay.