Archive of Our Own

Everything began with a question.

At the time, Inho didn't answer because it had felt rhetorical; pointless even. Now, knowing what he does, Inho realizes Gihun was never looking for a direct answer; but rather an understanding. An understanding of what, exactly? Inho could only guess. Then again, maybe the question never had an answer in the first place, and all of this was doomed from the very beginning. 

But, Inho was determined to search for one anyway. 

“I have a proposition for you,” Inho begins, staring at Gihun behind the mask. “It’s about your future and the baby's.” 

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asked, staring back at Inho as his fingers curled into his pant leg. He was exhausted. Inho could tell by the way Gihun kept pushing himself upright with his hands on his legs so as to not show a single ounce of weakness. It was a sentimental thought on Gihun’s part because Inho would be the last person to call Seong Gihun weak. 

A weak man would never come back to the games for a second time just to try and stop them. 

Fingers curled into his pants as every single part of his body ached and burned. A man in a crystal owl mask speaks to him, telling him how impressed he was with his survival thus far. Inho can barely listen. He just wants to go home. He just wants to be with his wife. 

Inho takes a knife out of his pocket and places it on the small table in front of them. Gihun stares down at it.

A knife is placed down on the table and Inho looks up at the owl mask with a question in his eyes. “Kill them,” the crystal owl replies. “It is the only choice you can make.” Inho looks back down at the knife and realizes with dread that there is always just one more game to play. 

“Take this knife back to your quarters and kill the trash who wants to kill you and the baby.” Inho explains. “They're fast asleep after all the food and drink. Slit their throats one by one, no one will notice.” 

“Why are you suggesting this?” Gihun asks in a whisper, and it's at this moment Inho chooses to take off his mask; finally revealing who ‘Young-il’ really was. Gihun’s eyes go wide in a combination of conflicting emotions before they finally settle on betrayal and… shame. Player 001 had fooled Seong Gihun once again. Inho had planned it that way on purpose, knowing full well that even after two years in hiding, Gihun still yearned for human connections built on trust. But it had all gotten out of hand during the rebellion, and for a brief second, even Inho himself wanted Gihun to succeed. He wanted the games to end.

But, they both had to stop playing pretend. 

“The next game can't be played with only two people.” Inho explains even though Gihun looks like he wants nothing more than to lunge at Inho with the knife. “Then, according to the rules, the game will end there. You and the baby will get out of here alive. You have my word.” 

In the end, Gihun left holding the knife with wide teary eyes. Tonight was critical. If Gihun didn’t take care of the players tonight, then the game would commence tomorrow as scheduled. If that happened, Inho wouldn’t be able to predict the course of tomorrow’s game. He knows Gihun would do everything in his power to protect the baby, but against the surviving trash… How long until Gihun’s luck finally ran out? 

“Please,” he pleads in a whisper. “Don’t be stubborn. Just win the game.” 

Gihun did not use the knife to kill the remaining players. Instead, he cut the puppet strings, and freed himself in a way Inho never could. 

The bloody knife drops out of Inho’s hands as hot tears fall down his cheeks as a combination of relief and anguish wash over him. Hwang Inho survives with blood on his hands, wins 45.6 billion won, and finds his wife already dead. All of it had been for naught. He shatters into a million pieces, and Il-nam is there to pick them back up; molding Inho into the man that would one day be the Frontman. 

Inho downs the rest of the whiskey and feels it burn down his throat. 

The button is pressed. The timer ticks down.

Gihun stares through the screen as though he could see Inho behind it. Inho could do nothing but stare right back. Silently; unknown to anyone else, they have a conversation between just the two of them. It was a final goodbye where no words were spoken, and everything that should’ve been said remained buried in their hearts. His entire body was shaking as the denial of what's to come hit him harder than he expected. Inho wants to stop it, he realizes. He wants to push the button to end the game early, set the island to explode, run to him, save him —

“We are not horses. We are humans,” Inho can't move; can't breathe — “Humans are…” 

Gihun lets himself fall over the edge and Inho never looks away. 

Player 456, Eliminated. 

Alarms blared throughout the building as Inho walked like he was on autopilot. When he made it to where Gihun’s body lay, he stopped and took the mask off his face so he could look at him with his own two eyes for one last time. In death, Gihun finally looked at peace while Inho himself felt a storm growing deep inside his chest. Humans are trash. He thinks, clinging onto the old argument like it had any more meaning.

Inho gently grabbed the baby and watched as she snuggled into his hold as though she had always belonged there. Something in his chest twisted and felt rotten. Gunshots from behind took his attention away and Inho turned to see Junho behind the broken glass that once housed the VIP’s gaze. “Why?” his brother shouts. “Why did you do it?” Inho had no answer for him. 

He never had an answer. 

The island explodes, burying Gihun in the place he never should have come back to. All Inho could do was watch until he had no choice but to close his eyes when his vision began to blur.

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asked, sounding right in front of him. 

Inho opens his eyes. 

The golden room slowly came into focus like Inho was waking up from a vivid dream. Gihun was sitting right in front of him exhausted, but alive . It seemed that their conversation had only just begun, but Inho couldn’t utter a single word to respond to it. Not when the peaceful expression of Gihun’s death still burned fresh in his mind. Am I … dreaming? Inho’s eyes travel to Gihun’s chest, watching the way it rose and fell with each breath. It looked real. “Aren’t you going to say something about your proposition, or did you call me here just to mock me?” Gihun prompts, dragging Inho from his confused daze when he realized Gihun really was waiting for a response. A shuddering breath escaped his lips the moment their eyes met. Inho could still remember the way his lifeless eyes shimmered like stars from the tears that never had the chance to fall. This couldn’t be real. 

It just couldn’t. 

So Hwang Inho opened his mouth, and like he was reading from a script, said the words already spoken.  

He watched the same expressions fall on Gihun’s face as the conversation went on. Watched the same hand grab the knife, and point it at him when Inho took off his mask. Watched as Gihun’s eyes filled with tears when he stormed out of the room to make the decision Inho already knows he won’t take. 

Seong Gihun sacrifices himself once again. His player screen turns dark. Inho stares at his dead body. Grabs the baby. Listens to his brother’s question. Watches the island explode until his eyes burn—

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asks, his voice soft, real, and so alive right before Inho. His head spins, his ears are ringing, and he can’t breathe. Inho removes the mask except—it was too early—too soon. 

Gihun lunged at him in a rage the moment he saw his face and Inho didn’t get the chance to defend himself when a nasty punch collided with his cheek. The rippling pain felt real. Gihun didn’t stop there, grabbing Inho by the front of his Frontman coat until Inho was dragged out of his chair. There, Inho fought back, and the both of them stumbled around the room, pushing and pulling the other until furniture was knocked over, glass went flying off the bar counter—it was real. 

All of this was real. 

In their struggle to overpower one another, they ended up on the floor and Inho felt his head slam hard against the ground, disorienting him enough that his ears were ringing. Gihun took advantage and punched him once more in the face, making blood pool in Inho’s mouth before crawling on top of him. “Why?!” he shouts, trying to get in another punch, but Inho blocked him. “Why is it you ?!” Gihun screams and Inho couldn’t get a word out even if he wanted to. Not when both of Gihun’s hands wrapped tight around his throat. Inho chokes and grabs onto his wrist; his legs splayed and kicking at the floor for some type of purchase as his instincts went into overdrive to breathe . 

I should let him kill me. Inho deliriously thinks as the edges of his vision begin to turn dark and his grip weakens. I deserve it. His hands drop their hold on Gihun’s wrist and Inho watches the righteous fury in Gihun’s expression falter ever so slightly. Just as Inho was about to lose consciousness, Gihun released his hold and Inho gulped in air so fast that he started coughing. Gihun was still sitting on top of him when Inho managed to catch his breath, but Inho saw something familiar in Gihun’s hand; its silver glinted in the light. “Are you going to kill me?” Inho asks, his voice too hoarse to speak properly. Gihun's face twists into a feral rage, lets out a scream, plunges the knife—

But Inho felt no pain.

Instead, the knife digs painfully into the dark colored floor, inches from Inho’s head.

“I should kill you,” Gihun seethes, their faces so close Inho could feel how hot his breath was against his skin. “But you don’t deserve that mercy.” He leaves without another word.

Inho could do nothing but lay on the cold hard floor, staring at the discarded knife.

Gihun dies during the second round of the final game when the group manages to take the baby from his arms. All because Gihun didn't have the knife to cut the clothing line free. Player 333 pushes Gihun to the edge with the pipe, but Gihun—always full of surprises—holds his ground to the bitter end. He pushes back and Inho watches in awe as Player 333 struggles against the might of a man who would do anything to fulfill his promise. It is not until the others help Player 333 that Gihun finally falls off the edge. The scream that leaves his mouth is guttural and raw—not because Gihun was afraid of death, but because he failed . 

Player 333 held the remaining players hostage on the connecting bridge after that. They all got shot and died by the pink soldiers once the bridge retracted. When Player 333 pressed the button; he became the sole winner. 

Inho leaves empty-handed, and the island explodes behind him. 

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asked, making Inho’s head spin enough that he had to curl his fingers into the leather arms of the chair to ground himself. 

“Yes,” he answers, deciding to interpret the question another way. “But you chose to come back anyway.” 

“I didn’t have a choice. Not when the games were still running,” Gihun retorts; fiery anger in his expression. 

“We all have a choice, Player 456.” Inho argues back. “You could've gone on that plane; seen your daughter. Lived happily and pretended it was all a dream,” 

“Take the blue pill, you mean.” Gihun sneers, recalling their conversation in the limo. 

“Yes,” Inho whispers. At least then, you would’ve been alive. “But you chose to swallow the red pill; play the hero. Now, you’re facing the consequences of that choice.” He takes the knife from his pocket and places it on the table. Gihun’s face becomes unreadable. “Take this knife back to your quarters and kill the trash who wants to kill you and the baby.” Inho explains, feeling his throat tighten as he repeats the same words. “Slit their throats one by one. No one will notice.” 

“Why are you suggesting this?” Gihun asks with a wavering voice, pulling his eyes from the knife to look at him directly. Originally, this was where Inho would take off his mask to reveal who he truly was, but… it felt pointless. Young-il was dead. Hwang Inho didn’t exist. Only the Frontman remained. He was the only one that Gihun might listen to.

“Because I made that choice,” Inho answers instead, and Gihun immediately understands.

“You were a player?” Gihun breathes out in surprise. “Why?” he asks, motioning to Inho. “Why come back as a Frontman?” 

“I'm sorry your wife passed away before you could save her,” Il-nam said, placing a hand on Inho's shoulder while he stared at the grave that bears her name. “Let’s sit down and have a long conversation about it over tea.” 

“Why did you come back?” Inho counters immediately, letting his frustration show for the first time. “To save the lives of the trash that still chooses to play time and time again; despite knowing what awaited them? Even after all your pathetic attempts to convince them; humanize them. They still chose to play.” Gihun flinched like he had been slapped, but Inho didn't stop there. “Do you not recall how quick they decided you and the baby would be the first to be eliminated tomorrow? They are the trash that deserve to be disposed of.” 

“You're one to talk!” Gihun snaps back, temper flaring. “You and your friends are the ones that decided to make a baby into a player!”

“The VIPs wanted her dead the moment her mother died.” Inho retorts automatically. “If I didn't suggest—” Gihun was on his feet immediately. 

“You suggested she be a player?! You sick son of a—” 

“If I didn't—!” Inho interjected. “—she would've died long before you ever had the chance to help her,” Gihun froze where he stood. "Believe it or not Gihun-ssi, I am trying to help you,” Inho reiterates, watching Gihun's expression fall completely blank. “You can hate it all you want, but even you understand that players have certain protections. They have rules.” Gihun's face twisted painfully, but Inho knew he understood. “Putting the baby in the game as a player was the best choice I could make for her sake. Now, it falls to you to follow through.” Gihun slowly sits back down in the chair and while he looked conflicted, there was something else in his gaze Inho couldn't recognize.

“Why?” Gihun asked, staring at him. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care so much about what happens to me?” It was a question Inho had no answer for, so he ignored it. He pointed to the knife on the table and Gihun glanced at it; once.

“You made your choice to come back and play the hero, Player 456,” Inho said. “It's time to finish it.” 

Gihun leaves with the knife not long after that. 

The screen powers on and Inho is greeted with the security feed of the player room. Gihun is leaning over his bed, checking on the baby but Inho could see he had the knife safely secured in the back of his pants. Inho gulps down a large swig of whiskey when Gihun turns to glance at the other sleeping players before his eyes go right to the camera. Inho’s hand shakes as he grips the glass and Gihun stalks towards the other players like a hunter in the dark. He nearly drops it when Gihun stabs Player 100 in the neck without hesitation. His plan worked. Inho had managed to convince Gihun to do what needed to be done this time around. 

One by one, the players die in their beds. 

Gihun was terrifyingly beautiful ; like a storm whose fury annihilated villages, yet one could not help but feel awe at the mighty power behind it. Before he got to the final player, Gihun stopped and looked at the camera one last time. 

His eyes were filled with tears.

The bodies of the dead players lay permanently in their beds. Inho had done it. He killed them all so he could win. So why… Why did everything hurt? He let out an anguished scream; letting out all his emotions with one single breath. Then, he faced the knife towards his own throat and attempted to plunge it deep—a shot rang out; the knife went flying and Hwang Inho was left staring as a group of pink soldiers came in with the crystal owl in tow. “Congratulations are in order, Player 132.” 

A sound caught Inho's attention and he looked up at the screen. Player 333 had woken up before Seong Gihun could finish the job. 

The glass filled with whiskey shattered on the floor as Inho ran to the elevator. 

When he arrived at the player’s sleeping quarters, Inho thought he might’ve been too late. 

But when he walked through the door with triangle soldiers following behind, he was relieved to see Gihun and Player 333 currently locked in a struggle over the knife. The knife was inches from Gihun’s throat and despite how hard he pushed against it, Inho could see his strength was wavering. A triangle guard shoots at the air with their rifle immediately the two of them pushed away from each other as the triangle guards ran towards them. One of the triangle guards forced the knife from Player 333’s hands and both Gihun and Player 333 stared at Inho as he walked towards them with purpose.“The game ends here,” Inho says. “Congratulations Player 333, 222, and—” he looks towards Gihun without his mask—forgotten in his haste to get here—and finds Gihun’s eyes staring down at him with a quiet rage. “Player 456; a second time winner. Congratulations.” Inho finished, strangely breathless. 

“You,” Myung-gi interjects, staring at Inho. “I know you,” he confirms. “Player 001, you’re the boss of this place?” Inho doesn’t answer. Player 333 grows agitated. “You were helping him all along, weren’t you? That’s why he had a knife; so he could slaughter us all one by one and win again!” Player 333 steps towards him, a triangle guard points their rifle. He seethes. “What about all the fairness and rules, huh? You collaborated with him anyway simply because, what, he has special privileges for winning before?” Inho still doesn’t answer, his eyes are only on Gihun whose eyes automatically go towards the baby when she starts crying in Gihun’s bed. “ Oh ,” a crazed laugh coming out of his mouth when an idea comes to him. “I see what it is. This is a sick fantasy between two lovers. One enters the game to cause drama, and the other oversees it to make sure the other doesn’t die. It's perfect.”

“We are not lovers,” Gihun denies, the only time he has said something since Myung-gi started talking. 

“Then what the fuck are you?” Myung-gi demands and Inho has had enough, pointing his pistol at Player 333 whose eyes widen in shock. 

“Just two people playing the game,” Inho answers, shooting him in the head. His body collapses to the ground and Inho can’t even pretend he’s satisfied by it after witnessing what he did in the last loop. A punch hits his face immediately and Inho staggers back; holding up a hand to keep the triangle guards from interfering.  

“What did you do that for?!” Gihun demanded, stepping into Inho’s personal space.

“I don’t need to explain myself,” Inho answers back coldly and Gihun twists his fingers into the front of his coat; the fresh blood still on his fingers making the grey color darker. “You broke your own rules by killing him,” Gihun argues. “He was only trying to argue his point! I shouldn’t have had that knife in the first place,” Inho’s eyes darken at that and he twisted Gihun’s hands off his coat.

“Don’t you dare humanize him. He would’ve done anything to kill you and the baby tomorrow.” 

“What makes you so sure?” Gihun snaps. I watched it . Inho thinks in a rage. I watched you die over and over because of him.

“He’s the baby’s father,” Inho answers instead, watching Gihun’s eyes widen. “He would have killed his own child to save his own skin.” 

“He wouldn’t,” Gihun argues, but his eyes are staring at Inho’s expression. He must find the truth he’s looking for because he steps back as if he had been struck. 

“Trash like him needed to be disposed of,” Inho reassures and Gihun just looks at him with visible disgust.

“If he is trash, then, what does that make me?” 

“A survivor,” Inho replies instantly, but Gihun shakes his head; disagreeing.

“No, I’m not going to be an exception,” he grounds out in determination; eyes moving down to Inho’s left hand. “This… is the consequence of the choice you force me to take,” Before Inho could stop him, Gihun snatched his wrist holding the pistol and placed the head of the gun into his mouth; his fingers curling into Inho’s so his index pressed against the trigger. 

“Gi—” Inho couldn’t even finish saying his name when the sound of the gunshot pierced loud into his ears. Gihun’s body collapsed to the ground and Inho was left standing; ears ringing as he stared down at Gihun’s crumpled body with complete and utter shock. Pink soldiers carried the coffin over as sound slowly rushed back into Inho’s ears, replacing the ringing with the high-pitched crying of the baby who was once again the sole winner of the games. 

Inho doesn’t stop staring until the guards cover Gihun’s body with the lid. 

Cold water runs down his face as Inho overlooks his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He looked like death. Face too pale, eyes sunken in and dark—Inho closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He had just broken the news to the VIPs that the games ended that night with the baby being the sole winner. “I am not pleased about the games ending so early before the final game,” The VIP with the Ram mask mentioned to Inho as they stood on the helicopter pad. “But, I will say I do enjoy an unexpected ending. Especially one done by your own hand.” A gunshot rang out from his own gun. Gihun's body collapsed on the floor dead —bile rose up in Inho's throat and he gagged and heaved into the sink until there was nothing left. He leaned over the sink until he could catch his breath but when he looked up into the mirror this time, he saw a bloodied version of himself with 132 plastered on his chest. 

The reflected eyes that gaze at him in the mirror look so lost, defeated— broken . Those same eyes narrow into a glare full of hatred. Hatred at what happened, but hating himself most of all. For being weak; for giving in. “You… are the trash you hate.” he hisses. 

Inho blinks, forcing the tears in his eyes to clear, but all he could see now was Gihun's dead reflection staring back at him. “These are the consequences of your choices,” he says, mouth opening wider in a scream. “ You let me die!” The mirror cracks loudly when Inho throws the soap dispenser into it. It falls to the ground; purpose fulfilled while Inho stumbles until his back hits the wall, clutching at his own chest as he gasps for air.

He can’t breathe. 

The only thing that remained visible in the remaining glass was Inho’s own broken reflection. 

Warm colored light reflected off the crystal glass as Inho pressed it against his lips, taking in his mouth the last of the amber liquid within. The taste of it burned all the way down his throat, setting a fire in his chest that left him leaning back into the leather seat as it spread into his nerves. Leaving behind a steady numbness that made him want to do nothing but fall asleep. But sleep doesn’t come to him—hasn’t since the loops began. Mentally, he is exhausted. Physically, he feels nothing different. The worst of it all was the time that stretched in between the loops. The time spent doing nothing. 

Based on his last few loops they had always reset again once the island exploded. If he’s right, the loops will reset again in about 25 minutes when Inho set the timer earlier. If he’s wrong—well, then at least he would be dead. 

“I'm so glad you made it,” Gihun said through the screen in front of Inho. It was the security footage during Mingle, when everyone had thought Young-il to be dead during the previous round. Inho remembered Gihun's smile when their eyes connected. The smile on Inho's own lips faltered just a fraction as Gihun looked at him with such happiness and relief, that Inho had begun to forget why he was even there in the first place. “Here, take this. You’re going to need it.” Gihun said in his head as he handed Inho the last magazine.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, letting the glass fall out of his hand and onto the floor. A phone trills behind him and it took Inho a moment to realize that it wasn’t just his drunk fueled mind hearing things. He turned to face the phone, his muffled hearing making the sound pitch higher when his eyes focused. Who could be calling? Inho was the only one left on the island and everyone outside of it could care less to call him directly after the games had already ended.

Inho moves before he realizes it and picks up the receiver, putting it to his ear. “Frontman speaking,” he replies in English. 

A beat. Then two. “Hyung?” 

“Junho,” Inho voiced; surprised. “How…?” 

“I watched Captain Park a few times when he messed with the knobs. I didn’t think anything of it, but I had nothing to lose,” Inho could remember how much tinkering with things fascinated Junho when he was young. He loved to grab old and broken things and fix them until they were better than new. Inho had thought he might make a great engineer one day, but Junho had a different idea when he told Inho during college that he would follow him into the police force. Inho hadn’t been happy about it, but perhaps Junho had only done that because he had felt his fixing skills would be more useful there. “Hyung?” Junho called to him, making Inho realize he had been too lost in his head. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Because he can’t feel anything. 

“Then why are you crying?” Was he? Inho touched his fingers along his cheeks to find them wet with tears. 

“Impossible.” Inho lies. “I’ve forgotten how to.” 

“Liar,” Junho said and Inho closed his eyes, leaning on the small table with his left hand and gripping tight onto the receiver. It was nice to hear Junho’s voice again. The last time they had spoken was two years ago when Inho shot him off the cliff, and more recently (although technically not yet) when he had asked him why while Inho carried the baby off the island. The two brothers haven’t had a moment of stillness like this for a long time. Inho didn’t realize how much he missed it until now. The five minute alarm blared throughout the island; a final warning until everything, along with Inho, disappeared. “What’s that sound?” 

“I set the island to explode,” Inho answered truthfully, deciding that he wasn’t going to leave Junho with questions. Not this time. 

“And you’re still on it?” Junho sounds panicked and Inho can’t help but want to soothe him. It's an instinct he can’t fight against no matter how much he’s changed. 

“Junho, that day on the cliff,” Inho begins, a burning question on his mind. “If you were able to redo it all again… what would you change?” Junho is crying now. 

“I… I would take your hand,”

“Why?” Because he needs to understand why Junho refused to give up on him despite the numerous reasons he should. 

“So you’re not alone anymore.” 

The timer hits zero and the explosions set off all around the island. Inho accepts it all as the room is engulfed in flames.

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asked, alive once again. Inho’s nerves feel like they’re still burning.

“Do you want to die that badly?” Inho questioned in return. Gihun doesn't understand the reasoning behind the question. Of course he doesn't. He never remembers the loops that Inho is cursed with for some reason. Inho slams the knife down on the table and Gihun surprisingly doesn't flinch. “If I tell you to take this knife, and kill the trash that sleeps deeply in their beds so you and the baby can survive, would you?” Gihun doesn't answer. “You wouldn't. No. Because you would rather die than do what is necessary.”

“If I choose to die with that choice, then at least it is mine .” Rage explodes in Inho's chest and he doesn't even recall it happening, but he kicks the table out of the way, knocking the knife onto the floor, before lunging at Gihun who was already standing to defend himself. They collided to the floor with Inho on top, wrapping his hands around Gihun’s throat. 

“Why must you be so stubborn?” Inho hisses through the mask. “Don't you see I'm trying to help you?” 

“This is you helping?” Gihun lets out a laugh, his eyes glaring at Inho with deep resentment. “I didn't know you cared,” I don't care. Inho wants to say. He shouldn't care about what happens to an insignificant player that chose to come back. And yet, the image of Gihun's dead body burns into his mind and it bothers him. Why does it bother him? His gloved thumb brushes against the faint cut on the bottom of Gihun’s chin. “Why didn’t you kill me?” Gihun asked and Inho could feel the vibrations of his voice through his gloves. “Why keep me alive?” All for the game. Inho thinks, only, that isn’t true, is it? His left thumb moves up until it presses down against Gihun’s split lower lip. A pained sound leaves Gihun’s breath and Inho leans closer; fascinated. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered without realizing and Gihun’s eyes widened as Inho pressed the lips of his mask against Gihun’s lips. It wasn’t a kiss, not officially, but the mask was Inho’s identity and shield. It had been a part of him for nearly a decade since Il-nam gifted it to him. Although their lips never touched, Inho felt something long dead stir within. 

No, wait… he actually felt something within his chest. Inho pulled away, looking down at himself to see the handle of the knife sticking out of his side. It didn’t hurt. Inho was far too shocked with the fact that Gihun had actually stabbed him with the same knife he offered earlier. Inho fell to the side, unable to voice his disbelief. Gihun’s hands were on his mask, taking it off with a look of fury, but when he saw Inho’s face his eyes widened in horror. 

“Why is it you?” he asked while Inho lost consciousness. 

“Did we ever… have a—”

“You stabbed me,” Inho interrupted while the world was still spinning back into focus. Gihun looked confused. “You actually stabbed me.” Inho repeats, furious. 

“When could I have—?” But Gihun had no chance to respond before Inho was on him, falling with him as the wooden chair fell over with Gihun still on it. They fought violently on the floor, punching, kicking, biting. Everything was on the table as they fought like two players who had nothing to lose. It was cathartic . Inho had never felt so alive. A punch hit him hard in the face and the mask went flying off. Gihun was breathing as heavily as he was and his eyes widened as soon as they saw Inho’s face.

“Young-il?” Inho didn’t want to hear that false name any longer.  

“My name is Inho,” he seethes in a blind rage as he wraps his hands right around Gihun's neck, causing Gihun to choke. “Hwang Inho.” Gihun’s hands scratched at his face in desperation as his face began to turn purple before falling limp a moment later. Inho blinks, coming back to himself and letting his hands go as he stared at Gihun’s body. “Fuck…” he cursed, realizing what he had done. “ FUCK !” he screamed. He takes the knife out of his pocket and stabs himself in the neck, falling to the side as everything goes dark. 

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asked while Inho was trying to get his bearings again. “Have… we done this before?” The question had Inho sitting upright in his chair with his heart pounding as Gihun looked around the room with confusion. “I feel like… I’ve done this before.” No. There’s no way . Gihun’s eyes locked with him—and this time—Gihun lunges at Inho completely off script. Fingers claw onto his mask, ripping it off like it had no purpose there. There, Gihun’s wide eyes stared down at Inho’s shocked face. “It's you! It's actually—” Panic set in. Inho can see it in his eyes as everything begins to collide together in his mind. 

“Gihun you need to breathe,” Inho starts, his hands coming up to cradle Gihun’s face as Gihun struggles to breathe and collapses onto Inho in the chair. He doesn’t know what Gihun is seeing, but he doesn’t need to know. It's better if Gihun never knew at all. “Focus on me,” was the only warning Inho gave him before he pressed their lips together. Gihun’s fingers curled into his shoulders, a muffled sound escaping his lips as Inho broke their kiss so he could gasp for air before kissing him again, and again. He repeated this process until Gihun turned his head away, taking in a much needed gulp of air before collapsing fully into Inho. Inho wrapped his arms around his waist, drawing him into a more comfortable position for the both of them. 

“Why?” Gihun asked while pulling away. Inho doesn’t know if he means why it's him, why he’s alive, or a combination of the two.

“You asked me once, why I keep you alive,” Inho said instead, his thumb trailing the cut under Gihun’s chin. Gihun shudders under his touch as his hand comes to wrap around Inho’s wrist. The cut is nothing compared to seeing Gihun’s dead body, but something about it; the way Gihun looked when he had given up completely. It… it felt like Inho was losing something. A rival? No. A friend? Maybe, but not quite the right word. Hope? “I can’t… let you go,” he admits and Gihun just stares down at him with those sad lonely eyes. 

“I am not yours to keep,” 

“I don’t see you fighting to get away either,” Inho retorts gently, his glove thumb coming up to caress Gihun’s cheek. He wants to kiss him again. Strangely enough, it was Gihun who moved first. His fingers come up to cradle Inho’s head before soft lips press against his own without warning. Inho shudders into it like he was deprived of water. He hadn’t felt a touch like this in years and it's from Gihun of all people; the person who should despise him the most. Inho pulls away first, feeling like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. Gihun followed after him until they both stopped and stared at one another. “I—” he began, but Gihun cut whatever he was going to say with another, more fiery kiss. 

Fireworks exploded in Inho’s mind as the kiss grew in intensity. Gihun’s fingers curled tight into Inho’s hair, tugging and pulling on the strands as his tongue ravaged into Inho’s mouth; taking over the kiss with a passion Inho wasn’t prepared for. His mind went blank, his body burned with heat, and Inho ripped the gloves off his hands so he could pull Gihun’s white dress shirt free from his pants and run his fingers up and down Gihun’s back until he grabbed onto his ass. Gihun grinded down on him in response and Inho saw stars. He was so hard. “ Fuck !” he gasped out, breaking the kiss; a trail of saliva in-between their lips. “Gihun,” he moaned as Gihun leaned down and nipped at his lips; a pleased smile on his lips at seeing Inho so disheveled. 

They didn’t have the time to explore each other’s bodies the way they wanted to; the intensity too much too soon—too real . But Inho didn’t mind it one bit as Gihun took hold of their cocks and grinded against Inho like a man on a mission. Gihun’s white dress shirt opened easily under Inho’s fingers before he wrapped an arm around Gihun’s waist, pressing his face into his bare chest leaving trails of red bite marks wherever he could. Gihun’s mouth made the most beautiful wanton sounds and Inho wanted nothing more than to burn them into his mind forever. “ Young-il ,” Gihun moaned. “ Please ,” Inho could do nothing but obey. He helped speed up their hands and bit down on Gihun’s neck, making Gihun throw back his head with a cry as they released together. 

“You could stay,” Inho voices quietly as he watches Gihun slowly button up the white dress shirt; covering up all the love bites Inho left all over his chest. Gihun just sighs, already looking emotionally and physically drained even with their brief moment of respite. 

“And what good would that do?” Gihun asked in return, putting on his jacket. Inho steps towards him. 

“If you leave through the elevator doors now, you’ll—” Inho cut himself off, unable to say it.

“Die?” Gihun finishes for him and Inho feels like everything is spiraling again. 

“You have nothing to prove.” Inho starts, stepping towards Gihun with desperation. “Neither of us will win. The world is far from changing for the better, and the games will never end even if you stop them here. It's all pointless! There is nothing we can do. No choices we can make to change anything and you —” Inho’s throat feels tight. “You will die.” he chokes. “I can’t bear it.” Not again, and again, and again —

“Do you remember when you asked me if I had seen The Matrix ?” Inho did. “I did once. With my daughter during the one weekend I was able to have her during my divorce.” Gihun has a small smile on his lips. “I didn’t understand it at all, and neither did she.” He laughs like the old version of Gihun and Inho feels his heart clench in his chest. “But Ga-yeong had asked me if I would pick the red pill, or the blue one.” He holds out his palms like they did in the movie. “My choice was the blue pill.” he folds one of his hands into a fist. “But, if you were to ask me that same question again…”

“Put me back in the games.”

“Why?” Inho asks. Gihun’s hands fall back to his sides.

“People always have a choice, Young-il. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. It's understanding why we make these choices that's important.” 

Life is full of all kinds of choices. 

Some big enough to impact other lives, others small enough to be disregarded as nothing more than a memory. Regardless, every single choice spreads and branches out like the roots of a tree that grows ever higher. Inho had taken advantage of the power of choice since he joined the games. Used it against people who would willingly go against their better nature to sacrifice the lives of others for the chance to get money. Inho does this because he has no freedom of choice. He lost it the moment he took the offering knife and found his wife dead after he came home. If Inho had been mentally stronger—made a different choice; refused the offered knife—maybe, he would have died in the final game.

At least then, the choice would have been his, and not the one he was manipulated into. 

“In the final round of the game, do everything in your power to start the timer. Throw something, fall into it, anything . If you do that…” Inho breathes out, feeling a desperate emotion come out of him with his last words. “You can win again. You and the baby will be able to leave.” Gihun stares at him. His mouth partly opened in shock. Inho swallows, stepping forward and handing Gihun the knife that will keep him alive. “Use this to protect yourself in the final round.” 

“You're giving me an advantage?” Gihun asks, looking at Inho in surprise.

“Think of it as evening out the odds. The other players will come for you and the baby during the second round. Fight them off. Make it to the end, and press the button. No matter what happens, make sure you press that button.” Gihun stares at the knife for a long time before his shaky hand reaches down and grabs onto it.  

“Why the second round? Why not the first?” 

“They will go after Player 125 first, since he's alone and isolated.” Gihun grimaces at that, but nods. 

“How… do you know all this?” 

“When everything ends, I’ll tell you” Inho promises. 

“Young-il—” Gihu begins but Inho holds up a hand. 

“My name,” Inho begins. “My real name is Hwang Inho, and… I’m sorry about killing Jungbae. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know. I had to make a choice, and I didn’t want it to be you.” Gihun turns away at that, making his way down the hall towards the elevators. “No matter what happens, you have my word you and the baby will get out of here.” Inho tells him. Gihun stops before he reaches the elevator doors, finally turning to look at Inho whose eyes never once left him. 

“Thank you, Inho,” a grateful look on his face. It wasn’t that beautiful smile he once had—Inho isn’t sure Gihun remembers how to smile like that anymore—but it is something Inho can say is his.
 

Thanks to Inho’s advice, Gihun does manage to press the button during his struggle with Player 333 before the both of them tumble over the edge. The timer ticks down to zero and Inho can hardly believe his ears as the announcement proclaims the game has ended. 

Gihun’s player light stays on. Inho doesn’t realize he’s smiling. 

“Sir, the coast guard has arrived. What do you want us to do?” The pink soldier says and Inho looks at him in surprise. With Gihun starting the timer during his struggle with Player 333 instead of after, that should have given Inho at least an 20 extra minutes to get the island's affairs in order before the coast guard showed up and he set the island to explode. But if they were here now, then that means they were early, and if they were early then that meant—

“Junho,” Inho breathes out. “Tell everyone to evacuate, we’ve been compromised.” he says immediately, turning his attention onto the kill switch that would start the detonator timer. The pink soldiers all leave their stations as the alarm blares through the island and Inho rushes to make his way to where Gihun and the baby still were; knowing full well Gihun would have no idea what was going on. He could only imagine the look on his face as he cradles the baby close; neither of them able to escape until Inho got there to lower the elevator—

The click of a rifle stops Inho in his tracks. “Hyung,” an all too familiar voice says behind the gun and Inho turns his head to see Junho stepping out of his hiding place, pointing the rifle at Inho’s masked face. 

“I will answer all your questions,” Inho says, looking at the way his brother struggles to keep the gun pointed at him. “But the island is about to explode, and we don’t have much time. Follow me if you must, but we must move ,” Junho doesn’t lower his weapon, but Inho isn’t afraid he will shoot him. He is afraid he’s going to lose time . “Junho, please .” Hwang Inho doesn’t beg; doesn’t plead, but he does imply an unbroken promise. He will tell Junho everything when they get off the island, but they had to make it first. Junho finally lowers his weapon; nods, and Inho takes off down the hall with his younger brother trailing close behind. 

Gihun looks terrified when Inho finally reaches him, and Inho tries not to focus on the way his eyes light up in relief upon seeing Inho once he removes the mask. “You kept your promise,” Gihun said, tears forming in his eyes at the overwhelming emotions that must be going through him right now. Inho doesn't even think as his arms automatically wrap around Gihun and pull him and the baby close. 

It's an awkward hug, but Gihun is warm; alive . Inho wishes he never had to let go. When he does pull away, there’s something unreadable in Gihun’s expression. “Hyung?” Junho questions behind him, and thankfully it's Gihun who looks over at him so Inho doesn’t have to immediately face his embarrassment as they ride the elevator back down.

“Junho, you made it alright!” Gihun proclaimed with relief. “Although, you could have told me your brother was the Frontman from the very beginning.”

“I thought you would kill him,” Junho argues weakly. At least he had the shame to look sheepish for it.

“You thought I would—Junho, I would have talked to him first. Especially since he’s your brother!” Gihun and Junho bickered back and forth like Inho and Junho used to when they were much younger. Too much has changed for Inho to do that any longer, but he found he didn’t mind if it was Gihun that took over the mantle. If he went back to a normal life after this, could all this still continue? Would Gihun let him into his life? Could they raise the baby together with Junho becoming an honorary uncle; who would spoil her rotten?

Could Inho hope for such a life? 

His answer came at the barrel of a rifle. It was pointed to Junho the moment the elevator doors opened. Inho didn’t think; he just moved. Bullets ripped into him and Inho felt nothing as his body collapsed to the ground. Junho screamed his name; bullets went flying, and the soldier's body fell to the ground; dead. Inho couldn’t breathe. 

They were so close ! Why did it all have to go wrong now ?

“Hyung!” Junho was over him instantly, his hands pressing on the bullet wounds but Inho was familiar with the touch of death. There was nothing Junho could do to save him.

“L—Leave with—Gihun—!” Inho choked out, feeling blood in his lungs. “Make—sure they both—live…”

“Hyung, please I…I can't lose you again,” Junho cried. 

Nothing was ever Junho’s fault. Inho made the choice to disappear completely from Junho’s like the moment he decided to join the games as the Frontman. He did that so he could protect Junho from the vile cruel world that would tear his innocence apart in an instance. At least if Inho was there in the games, he could keep Junho from it. If Junho had ever hit hard times, he and their mother would receive financial help. No matter the outcome, no matter the reason, Inho would always choose to protect Junho’s life and happiness. Even if he wasn’t there to see it.

But Inho couldn’t say all this. He was already dead. 

“Junho, we… have to go,” Gihun said, sounding like he was holding back his own tears. Their voices disappeared moments later and Inho’s lifeless eyes stared at the vast ceiling. 

The timer hit zero. The explosion ignited everything in sight, sending the walls crumbling all around him in a fiery blaze—

“Did we ever… have a future to begin with?” Gihun asks and Inho feels a throbbing headache so intense in his skull that he feels like he's going to throw up. Dying is quick, but waking up from it feels like torture. 

“Why?” Inho asks before his brain catches up with him. Gihun’s eyebrows furrow, unsure of what Inho meant. Inho’s mouth feels like it's full of cotton. “Why did you come back?”

“I had no choi—”

“No.” Inho interrupts, not wanting to hear it. “I don't want that answer, or the answer where you say it was just to end the games. I want the truth .” 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Gihun grits out, beginning to look frustrated.

“Fine, let's go back a few years instead.” Inho amends. “In the final game between you and Player 218, why did you vote to end the game so close to victory?” Why did you offer him your hand after he betrayed you time and time again? At the mention of his childhood friend, Gihun's face twisted painfully. Tears were gathering in his eyes and Gihun shook his head like he could prevent them from falling.  

“None of it was worth it.” Gihun said with a wavering voice. “I didn't want the money, if that meant not going home with Sangwoo,”

“He wouldn’t have given you the same mercy,” Inho mentions, far more gentle in his tone.  

“I know.” Gihun whispers. “But, it felt wrong not to offer him that choice.” 

Both of them knew the outcome of what Sangwoo had chosen, but only Inho understood why Sangwoo made the choice he did. He understood and trusted Gihun enough to take care of his affairs after he was gone. But Gihun had been depressed for the entire year after that. Walking through life like a dead man and only taking 10,000 won out of his account since Inho had dropped him off that night. 

“Why do you want to see him?” Inho asked Il-nam as the old man lay on his deathbed, staring out into the city. 

“For one last game.” Il-nam replied. “To see whose point of view is correct in the end,” 

“You think he will lose?” 

“I believe it will give him purpose,” Il-nam answered before looking at Inho. “You still don’t understand, do you? Why I keep a special eye on Player 456,” Inho doesn’t have an answer, so he doesn’t say anything. “He’s the direct opposite of you,” Il-nam explained. “All the choices you made; versus the ones he did. Two sides of the same coin,” Il-nam turned his attention back out to the window. “It's a shame I won’t see the outcome.” 

“So even our lives are just a game to you?” Inho asked, resentment in his tone. 

“Life is nothing more than a game, Player 132.The sooner you accept that, the less it will all hurt.” 

“You say people are trash, and maybe you're right. There is more bad in this world than good.” Gihun admits, looking at Inho and drawing him from his thoughts. “But that doesn't mean people stop trying to be better. Even you have that choice,” 

“What choice could I possibly still have?” Inho asks and Gihun just looks at him. Not at the frontman mask he still wears, but at the man hiding behind it. 

“To try ,” 

Inho’s head throbbed painfully while hosting the VIPs in the viewing room. The final game was already nearing its last stage, and while he isn’t fully sure of the loop's limits, he's positive he doesn’t have another loop in him. His mind feels like it's falling apart at the seams. Whatever happens now, he has to play it with caution. 

“Sir, we have a situation,” a square soldier said to him from behind. Inho turned his head, coming back to reality as he stood by the viewing glass with the VIPs. He knows what scene plays out next. Junho's boat was sighted near the shore and it wouldn't be long after that until the coast guard arrived. Any other time, Inho would have followed the square to the control room as an excuse to leave the VIPs while he waited for things to play out. 

This time however, he decides to stay. 

“Keep an eye on it for now, I'll deal with it after the final game has ended,” Inho commands and the square guard nods, leaving the room. 

“I do hope everything is alright?” an English accent pitched in, making Inho look over to see the Lion VIP staring at him along with the others. It is moments like these that Inho is grateful for the mask. 

“Of course,” he replied casually in English. “We are just getting your gifts ready for your departure after the final game. We are forever grateful for your contribution.” He bowed to them, always seeking to be a good host. As expected, the VIPs preen at the words, discussing last year’s gifts while Inho turned his attention back on the game. He lifted the opera glasses just in time to see the moment Gihun jumped across the receding bridge. He rolled to catch himself—admittingly—in the smoothest save Inho had ever seen. Once Gihun fully recovered, he pointed the knife at Player 333 with determination.

“Player 456 isn't a trained fighter,” the VIP with the boar mask and a french accent said when Gihun and Player 333 locked into a fight. “But he does fight like he has everything to lose.” 

“I can’t tell if that's a weakness, or a strength.” Falcon next to him said.

“Maybe it's both.” Ram interjects at the far end. “It's like gambling. How are you going to know it's the winning hand, if you don’t place a bet?”

“To try, you say,” Inho responds back with a slight chuckle to Gihun’s words. “In my position, you fail before you can,” 

“Is that the truth? Or the one you force yourself to believe?” Gihun retorts. Inho doesn't answer. “If you sincerely believe that you will fail before you can even begin, then why am I here?” 

Inho takes the knife out of his pocket and places it on the table in front of them. “I wanted to give you a choice.” 

“That's trying,” Gihun explained. “Whatever reason you think you have when you offer me this knife, there's something you're trying to accomplish at the same time. So what is it? What do you really want?” 

Inho lowers his opera glasses as soon as Gihun and Player 333 fall over the edge together. “I want you to live,” he whispered. It was all he wanted, wasn't it? From the moment Gihun refused to get on the plane, to the moment where he stared at Inho through the screen, silently telling Inho something he would never hear. If I let things play out exactly until the last possible moment…

“Oh putain ! Someone's climbing back up!” Boar shouts and Inho already knows who it is, but he can’t help but peer through the lenses once more to see Gihun climbing back up with the last of his strength.

“That's 456!” Red Panda gasps in surprise.

“No one's ever won it twice before, right?” Lion asked, turning to look at the other VIPs with shock. 

Because no one has ever dared to come back. Inho thinks. The VIPs talk amongst each other. Excited at the possibility of a two time winner, but they didn’t know that Gihun would rather sacrifice himself than win. That is the choice he will always make. The button is pressed, and the fifteen minute timer begins to count down to Seong Gihun’s death. 

“You don’t know what you want, do you?” Gihun asked without expecting an answer. Inho just sits silently in his chair as Gihun runs a hand down his tired face. “Is that why you do this? Run the games? Because you feel you don’t have any other choice?” Inho still doesn’t answer and Gihun just stares at him; not frustrated, just… sad. “What happened to you?” Gihun whispered, sounding empathetic. Inho swallows.

“It was easier to stop caring,”

“You care about me.” Gihun countered, picking the knife up from the table and standing. 

“What a silly notion,” Inho remarks to hide the fact it might be true.

“You didn’t want me to end up like you,” Gihun explains. “Why else did you try so hard to convince me to leave this all behind?”

“I believe he will sacrifice himself for the baby,” Inho remarks despite the rapid beating of his heart in his chest. 

“Sacrifice himself for a baby? Is he a fool?” Ram scoffs, chugging down the last of his champagne. 

“What makes you so sure, dear host?” Red Panda asks, staring at him. Something in her gaze felt like she could see right through him, but Inho pretended it didn’t bother him. 

“It's how he is,” Inho replies, giving them enough room to speculate on their own. 

“That is true,” Falcon responds, his finger tapping on the champagne glass as he thought. “In all the other games he made it a point to help the other players.” 

“Ah, but let's not forget Knives and Keys,” Lion brings up. “He chased after that young fellow because he failed to bring the ammo during the rebellion.” he turned to look at Inho then. “I still don’t understand why you let it go on for so long.” 

“All for a good show,” Inho responds with the words they want to hear. He turns to look over at Gihun through the window and finds him standing on the edge, staring as though he could see Inho right through the glass. It was a gaze Inho was familiar with. One that has haunted him time and time again even without the loops adding onto it. This time though, Gihun’s eyes weren’t staring at Inho in resignation—or even a prolonged goodbye like he had once thought. They were waiting for something. For what? Inho wonders but he already knows the answer. 

He was waiting for Inho to save him. 

“I think our host might be right,” Falcon responds in disappointment. “He’s just standing there, not doing anything!” 

“Not quite the ending I had in mind, but… it's an interesting one, I suppose.” Ram replies with a sigh. Inho curled his fingers into fists at his side to keep himself still as he prepared himself for his next words. 

“What if you let them both win?” he suggests, hoping with all his being that this will work. They’re all staring at him and Inho stares at Gihun as a way to gather internal strength. “If he throws the baby over the edge, it's predictable and anti-climatic. If he sacrifices himself, then the baby is the winner. What is she going to do with 45.6 billion won?”

“I think you really like Player 456, don’t you, dear host?” Red Panda purrs, making Inho stiffen. “You want him all for yourself,” her laugh pierces into his ears and Hwang Inho says nothing. 

“Well, I don’t blame him.” Ram responds. “Player 456 is a unique case in of itself… and our own departed Il-nam was fond of him, too.” he considers the thought. “It would be rather a shame if he died so soon considering the circumstances.”

“Yes,” Lion agrees. “You’re quite right. I think Player 456 deserves that hand of mercy. Afterall, he really gave us quite the show this time around.” 

“Fuck it! Yeah, I’m down!” Falcon agreed, lifting his glass in celebration. “Here’s to 456!”

Inho couldn’t believe his ears. His hands were shaking as he lifted the walkie, telling the control room to end the game and announce Gihun and Player 222 as the winners. They voiced in confirmation and Inho stepped closer to the glass, watching Gihun as he turned to place the baby down but stopping when the timer beeped and froze. A PA announcement declared him and the baby the winners a second later and Gihun whirled back towards the window; face a mixture of shock and… relief. 

The swell in his chest at the victory didn’t last long when Ram stepped towards Inho, smiling too wide under the golden mask. “I think we all deserve to meet Player 456 once and for all, don’t you?” Inho was no fool to assume he meant it as a suggestion. It was a demand. A horrible feeling twisted into his gut making all the alarm bells go off in his head, but Inho had to listen. The outcome would be far worse if he didn’t. 

“Of course,” he replied, bringing the walkie back up. “Send someone to fetch Player 456 and Player 222, but only bring Player 456 to the viewing room to meet with the VIPs. 222 will remain in a circle guard’s care until it's time to leave.” It beeped in confirmation and his eyes couldn’t help but glance out the window once more, watching a square soldier make his way over to Gihun and the baby. He motioned them to follow and Gihun glanced back at the window. Inho forced himself to look away. “They are on their way,” Inho confirmed. 

“Good,” Ram responded with a pleased grin. Inho felt like he was going to be sick. 

A few minutes passed in idle conversation before the square soldier arrived at the door with only Gihun in tow. Gihun looked pissed—probably because he was separated from the baby without a choice—but his expression quickly changed when his eyes lay upon the five VIPs inside the small viewing room. “Player 456,” the square soldier announced before being dismissed. Gihun stood at the entrance like a rabbit catching the eyes of a hunter. 

“Player 456!” Ram said in a loud booming voice that made Gihun flinch. “Come on in, please. Let us see you in all your glory.” he finished, motioning Gihun inside. Gihun however, refused to move. Ram sighed, clearly annoyed and looked at Inho. “Well? Translate for us. We don’t have all day.” he demanded and Inho felt like his entire world was about to flip on itself. 

“Come over here and stand beside me,” Inho told Gihun. “They just want to meet you,” he reassures even though he doesn’t believe the words himself. Gihun certainly doesn’t. “It will be much worse for the both of us if you don’t listen,” Inho tries and that gets Gihun to finally step into the room until he is standing next to Inho.

“The famous Player 456!” Lion announced, stepping forward and clapping. “My congratulations on winning the games not only once, but twice!” Inho stepped closer and translated what they were saying, Gihun’s face fell into a glare towards the VIPs. “I have to say, I’m truly impressed. You really surprised us all with this one. I surely thought you wouldn't make it to the end again, but I suppose you have some hardworking guardian angels on your side.” Lion peered at Inho at that. 

Ram stepped forward. “You know what I love most about happy endings?” He takes a pistol out of his suit and Inho doesn’t get a second to react before he’s being pistol whipped hard across the face. The mask he has used as protection for years cracks under the force and Inho stumbles to the side; Gihun’s hands immediately on his shoulders, holding him steady. “Did you really play us all for fools?” Ram demands in anger, staring at Inho. 

“I…” Inho’s mind spun as he tried to figure out where it was that he messed up. “I don’t—” Another hit from the pistol sends the mask flying off his face before the third one strikes so hard, it sends Inho sprawling onto the black marble tile with blood gushing from his nose and into his mouth. Fingers cradle his face not even a second later and Inho briefly sees Gihun looking down at him with a concerned expression before his eyes widen. 

“Young-il?” He gasped but there wasn’t time for reunion; or revelation. Not when Inho saw Ram approaching from behind, pointing the gun right to the back of Gihun’s head. 

“No!” Inho wheezes out, forcing himself to sit up. He gets a foot to his chest in response and Inho looks up to see Lion staring down at him, smiling as he pressed his cheetah patterned dress shoes further down into Inho’s ribs. Inho can barely breathe. 

“See? This is it right here,” Ram explained, motioning to the both of them. “This is what I love about happy endings,” he cocks the gun. Inho doesn’t want to watch Gihun die. Not again. Not like this. The gun clicks, chamber empty and Ram steps back with a laugh. The rest of the VIPs laugh and Inho feels the weight on his chest disappear. He sits up and Gihun is already by his side, helping. 

“Why?” he heard Gihun asking in English, accent heavy as he looked at them. Red Panda steps forward as Ram loads his pistol with a full magazine. A few triangle soldiers come into the room and as ordered, force both Gihun and Inho into a kneeling position in front of her. She giggles in delight. 

“Why, you ask?” Gihun flinched away from her hand when she attempted to pet his hair like he was a dog. “It's because he wanted to save you. And attachments like that are against the rules.” Her eyes went right to Inho. “Such a handsome face too,” she sighed, looking at the drying blood on his face. “I would have loved to keep you,” Inho spit blood at her and she gasped, smacking him hard enough to leave a burning scratch on his cheek. “You will regret that,” she hissed, moving back to the group.

“You’ll find a better, more obedient toy soon, my dear,” Lion reassured her as she crossed her arms with a huff. 

“Why not keep Player 456? I’m sure he would give you feisty entertainment.” Boar suggested with a laugh and if Inho wasn’t already feeling like shit, he would feel like throwing up. 

“456 is not quite her type, but…” Falcon looks over at Ram when he steps towards Gihun, putting his hand under Gihun’s chin with clear intent as he caresses the head of the gun down Gihun’s face. “He’s someone’s type.” Rage explodes in Inho’s chest.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” Inho pulls his pistol free, firing once, missing Ram’s head by mere inches because of the other soldier grabbing his arm. Inho doesn't let it stop him and attempts to shoot again before the soldier knocks the gun from his grip and slammed the back of his head onto the tile, disorienting him.

“Keep his hand down!” Ram ordered, and Inho fought with all his might as the two soldiers kept him pinned to the ground, one holding his left arm straight out. A foot stomped down hard on Inho’s left hand a few times and Inho screamed, feeling the bones bend and snap with each hit.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” Lion said, digging his heel into Inho’s hand, and making the agonizing pain travel up his arm. “I think we’re better off killing him, don’t you think? He’s been in this position long enough.” 

“Don’t!” Inho barely heard from Gihun throughout the pain. “Don’t kill!” 

“Gihun…” Inho wheezed out. “Don’t… Speak…” He felt the foot on his hand release before gloved hands grabbed the front of his coat, forcing him to stand. 

“You want him to live?” Ram asked, motioning to Inho while Lion signaled to the two other guards to hold him still. “What exactly is your relationship with him?” Ram asked, punching Inho hard in the stomach. Inho gagged and folded down, but the guards forced him back up to take another punch that made Inho's knees give out as he choked. “You two are very desperate to protect one another.” Ram comments before kicking Inho hard in the chest. The soldiers let him go and Inho’s body staggers back into the glass window. It splinters under his weight and he collapses to the ground, fighting with his lungs to breathe.

“Stop!” Gihun shouts in Korean. “Just stop! It was my idea to go back into the games! He only listened to my request!” Ram snaps his fingers at one of the guards. 

“You, translate what he said,” 

“He said that it was his idea to enter into the games, sir.” the soldier translated. 

“Really? And let me guess, to stop them? That’s why you had that failed rebellion?” Ram said. The dutiful soldier translated this to Gihun who could only glare in response. “Maybe I should just kill you instead,” Ram said, pointing the pistol at Gihun. 

“No!” Inho protested, struggling to lift himself up. “He didn’t do anything wrong!” he wheezed. “If you must kill someone… kill me!” 

“Oh mon dieu,” Boar gasped, pointing at the two of them. “Ils sont amoureux!” he proclaims. “They are in love with one another!” 

“This is just getting more and more interesting by the minute,” Falcon responded with a grin, sounding completely wasted.

“Love,” Ram scoffs. “A pointless endeavor, but a good plot twist for this story,” He points his gun directly at Inho. “Let's test it.” Gihun bolted towards Inho without hesitation and Inho watched in slow motion as Ram pressed his finger on the trigger before shifting his aim at the last second, sending the bullet up a little higher. Gihun reaches him just as the bullet pierces into the glass window, sending shards of it towards the two of them. Gihun pressed his body against Inho and with all of his strength rolled them both out of the way before the worst of it could hit them. For the rest, he shielded his own body over Inho while Inho wrapped his arms around Gihun’s head. They clung to one another until everything settled and Inho released his hold, letting Gihun lean his head up until they were only inches apart. 

“Are you okay?” Inho whispered, his gloved right hand brushing the tiny fragments of glass out of Gihun’s hair. 

“Yes,” Gihun whispered in return, his fingers curled into Inho’s coat. 

“Oh please!” Falcon slurred, stumbling towards them, his leg knocked into the mini display of Sky Squid Game and one of the towers knocked over. “Just because you want to save each other doesn’t mean you love each other, you know?” Falcon continued, stepping over the tower and motioning to the two of them. 

“And what do you suggest?” Lion asked, amused. 

“I want to see how desperate they truly are to save each other,” Falcon said. “I want a show. A really good one.” He waves his fingers at one of the guards. “Get me that bottle of champagne. Now .” When the bottle was in his hand, he uncorked it, and walked closer to Inho and Gihun while the soldiers kept their rifles trained on them. “Now which one…” Falcon murmured before locking his eyes on Inho. “Yes, you would be perfect,” Inho squeezed his eyes shut as the VIP poured the entire bottle of champagne onto his head. 

Laughter erupted in the small room as Inho felt the alcohol seep into his hair, pour down his face, and soak deep into his clothing. He could hear it fizzle in his ears and felt it burn into his open wounds, making every second that it pours pure torture. Inho wanted to murder them all. When the bottle was empty Inho opened his eyes to see Gihun glaring at the VIPs with pure hatred in his eyes. “Now, Player 456, I want you to lick our dear host up like that dalgona cookie,” Falcon said and Inho felt his heart drop into his stomach. “If you do well enough within five minutes, we might just let you both go.” Gihun looks at him in confusion and Inho couldn’t say it, so the soldier translates for him. Gihun’s eyes widened. “Tick Tock,” Falcon said, setting his watch timer for five minutes. “If you fail, then somebody dies,” the rifle clicks and Gihun gets the message without needing translation. 

He moves closer to Inho who begins to feel pained, cold, and annoyingly sticky. “I’m sorry,” Gihun whispers, his fingers coming to Inho’s bruised face. 

“It's fine since it's you,” he replied back in reassurance, letting his head fall back as Gihun pressed his lips to his jaw. Something buried in his chest purred to life when Inho felt Gihun’s tongue lightly lick his skin, making him shiver. Gihun pulled back, his brows furrowing in hesitation. 

“Come on, that's not a show!” Falcon complained. Inho heard the soldiers step closer and he immediately used his good right hand to grab the back of Gihun’s head and pull him into a kiss. Gihun gasped into his mouth and Inho took advantage of the opening, running his tongue inside and exploring all Gihun’s mouth had to offer. They separated after a moment and Inho nipped at Gihun’s lip, pressing kisses along his cheek.

“Don’t think, just survive.” Inho whispered with each kiss. Gihun curled his fingers into Inho’s soaked hair and Inho let himself be maneuvered as Gihun pulled his head back for easy access. Gihun’s tongue was warm and wet, but Inho didn’t mind as he lapped up every drop of champagne off his skin like Inho was an oasis in the desert. Inho groaned when Gihun went for his throat and he leaned back to give Gihun more access only to flinch back when he put his weight on his left hand. “My hand—!” he explained and felt an arm get wrapped around his waist, pulling Inho closer and supporting his weight as Gihun’s head dipped down into his clavicle. Inho let out a pained grunt from the strain on his bruised abdomen before bringing his gloved right hand to his mouth so he could tug it off with his teeth. Once the leather was discarded, he ran his fingers through the short strands of Gihun’s hair, helping guide Gihun’s mouth to the spots that made him feel good.

Gihun’s lips met his again after he was done and all Inho could do was focus on the way it felt like fireworks were going off in his head, sending ripples of pleasure through his body that briefly numbed the pain. “Young-il,” Gihun moaned out as he pulled away and Inho immediately pressed his fingers against his lips, unable to hear that name even one more time.

“Inho,” he said, making Gihun look at him. “My name is Hwang Inho,” he explained and there was something in Gihun’s eyes; a realization maybe, or something else. Either way, he nodded and opened his mouth to Inho’s fingers. Inho stared as Gihun locked eyes with him as he took in two of his fingers deep into his mouth and Inho felt a twitch in his pants as Gihun’s tongue swirled around his fingers like it were something much girthier. Inho’s body began to shake as the pain began to overwrite the pleasure and Inho couldn’t stay sitting up with all the strain it was putting his muscles through; he just couldn’t. 

“Gihun,” he wheezed and Gihun immediately understood, helping Inho lay down onto the tile that was free of glass shards. It helped elevate the pain a little bit and Inho closed his eyes as his head swam. I have to stay awake. He thinks. I have to be ready for anything. Fingers gently touched along his bruised face and Inho opened his eyes to see Gihun leaning over him. He looked as exhausted and as old as Inho felt. The two of them had gone through their own share of pain during life and even within the games themselves. Maybe, if they had met sooner—outside of this awful place—they could have helped each other heal. Fingers shook when they reached for his coat and Inho gently grasped his hand, nodding at him in reassurance. “It's okay, I trust you.”

Afterall, they still had a show to put on.

Inho’s jacket opened wide to reveal a black shirt underneath. Gihun reached for the bottom and carefully lifted the shirt up; revealing a freshly bruised naval beneath. He flinched at the sight but continued on until the shirt was pushed all the way up and showing off Inho’s full chest. There was a noise of praise from the side, but both Inho and Gihun ignored it as Gihun’s fingers twisted into fabric, squeezing out the liquid onto Inho’s skin. Inho shuddered violently, a gasp leaving his lips as Gihun’s hot tongue lapped it all up, making Inho arch towards him automatically. Gihun’s hands wrapped around his waist, supporting Inho as he shook, his tongue twirling around his nipple and Inho couldn't help the whine that left him. That dalgona never had a chance. Inho barely thinks, his right hand coming to curl tight into Gihun’s hair. “Please…” Inho pleaded and Gihun understood. 

He shifted his hips until they slotted perfectly between Inho’s legs and Inho couldn’t help the moan that left him when Gihun finally rolled their arousals together. Yes! Inho thinks, delirious in the feeling. His body was too injured for this and his left hand hurt so bad that Inho couldn’t fully focus or enjoy what was happening, but it didn’t stop his mind from wandering when he felt lips kiss along his chest. 

How would it feel to reverse their positions? To take his uninjured hands and run them down Gihun’s body, slowly discarding all his clothing until Gihun was unwrapped like a beautiful present. He would take Gihun into his mouth, feeling those long fingers curl into his hair until Gihun forced him back up, demanding Inho spread him open with his fingers. He would take it slow; he thinks. Really watch Gihun unfold as he inserts his lubed up fingers over and over until Gihun was begging with tears in his eyes until Inho inserted himself completely, hand wrapped around Gihun’s cock as he fucked him over and over until Gihun was screaming his name—

“Time's up,” Falcon said, sounding breathless.

Inho feels shame burn deep as Gihun pulls away, helping him straighten his clothing. His own eyes are cast downward, mirroring Inho’s feeling and Inho narrows his eyes to the VIPs, wishing death upon them all. “That was quite the show.” Boar praised. “It's almost a shame we didn’t realize this potential until now.” 

“Yes,” Red Panda agrees. “The things we could have made them do, if we had more time.” she giggled and Inho wanted to rip her throat out. 

“What say you, mon ami?” Boar asked Falcon. “Satisfied with their performance?” 

“Oh, definitely. ” Falcon said. “As for what to do with them—” 

“I’m afraid I have to cut this party short,” an unexpected voice said and Inho and Gihun both ducked down to the floor as Junho fired into the room, hitting the VIPs and soldiers. Bodies dropped to the floor with a scream until there was nothing left but silence. “Hyung! Mr. Seong! Are you both alright?” Junho asked, quickly coming over to them, and helping Gihun pick Inho off the floor. Neither of them appeared great, but Inho noticed how Junho wasn’t looking either of them in the eyes. 

“Please tell me you weren’t there the whole time,” Inho asked. Junho's silence was all the answer he needed. If Inho died here and the loop restarted again, it would not be any worse than this. 

“Let's just go,” Gihun suggested, too exhausted for them to have this conversation and Inho could have kissed him just for that. Alarms blared through the island, signaling someone had set off the timer for the explosion under Inho’s orders from last night. “The baby—” Gihun panicked.

“She’s safe, don’t worry,” Inho reassured him immediately. “Junho, lead the way. I’ll guide us out of here.” 

The cargo ship full of pink soldiers took off from the island as Gihun and Junho helped support Inho to where the baby was being held. None of the soldiers looked at them twice, especially when they saw Inho among them. One triangle guard saw them approaching and opened the door to a warm room where they saw a Circle and Square seated close together on a bench as the Circle fed the baby. “I trust them with my life,” Inho reassured Gihun when his worried eyes caught sight of the baby. They all settle and sit in the room while Junho goes to look for a first aid kit to patch them both up. 

Inho holds his injured left hand to his chest and stares at the island through the window in the room. Fear claws its way into his chest as the time for the explosion ticks down. What if the loop started over again? What if he failed? What if he didn’t wake up this time? “You look scared,” Gihun said to him, making Inho finally look away from the island. I am. Inho thinks as the circle guard hands Gihun the baby as soon as she starts to fuss. Gihun pats her back gently and soothes her with gentle words. 

“You’re very good with her,” he comments. 

“Well, it's not my first time taking care of a baby,” Gihun replies with a tired smile, he looks up at Inho then, something in his gaze shifting and catching onto the way Inho was staring at him. “Inho, why do you look like that?” 

“Look like what?” Inho asked, playing dumb. 

“Like you’re trying hard not to say goodbye.” An explosion sounded to the side and Gihun turned to look out the window, but Inho just kept staring at him, wanting to memorize every inch of him as his vision began to blur with that familiar tug. 

“Do you still have faith in people?” Inho asked, bringing back the old question that Gihun had never answered originally. Gihun’s eyes locked on his. 

“I have faith in you,” 

Hwang Inho closed his eyes.

Hwang Inho opened his eyes, and was greeted with the ceiling of his luxurious apartment bedroom. 

Immediately, he sits up in bed, heart racing as he looks around, recognizing it all to be his, but… why? Why here? He stumbles out of bed and reaches for his phone charging on the dresser. The date reads June 2024. Four months before the 37th Squid Game was to take place. If that was true then—his fingers shake as he taps into his phone, pulling up the security footage of the front of Gihun’s Pink Motel. The only thing that told Inho that there were signs of life was the white van seated in front of it. This was the time Gihun had hired the loan sharks to look for signs of the recruiter. If Inho was this far back then— “I could redo it all,” he breathes in realization, collapsing to the floor as all the emotions hit him at once. 

Hwang Inho doesn’t know why all this happened in the first place, but he wasn’t going to waste this chance.

It took two months before Inho felt it was the right time to see GIhun in person. 

A lot could go wrong—Inho expected it all to go wrong, honestly—but it was necessary. Gihun was focusing hard on searching for the recruiter with the exact purpose to find the Frontman. So Inho was only happy to oblige to his invitation. After all, he owed him soju. His phone vibrated with a notification, and Inho saw a text saying that his order was delivered in person. Inho set his phone down and glanced around at the barbeque place that was small enough for privacy but public enough for Gihun to meet him in person without shooting first.

He leaned back into the plastic chair, and waited. 

Thirty minutes go by before Gihun finally shows up. His gaunt expression is the first thing Inho sees while his eyes are scanning around the restaurant. When his eyes landed on Inho, they froze. Inho couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat as Gihun’s eyes stayed locked on his as he made his way over to Inho in their private corner Inho reserved ahead of time. “Player 456,” Inho greeted before motioning for Gihun to sit. Gihun does; slowly. A familiar sight, Inho realizes. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.” 

A mixture of emotions flashed across Gihun’s face; rage being the main one before Gihun threw something light down on the table. A single red rose. Just like the one Inho had sent two years prior. “I’ll admit,” Gihun begins. “When that woman knocked on my car window, I didn’t expect to see this.” Gihun revealed the golden card with the time and date and threw that on the table as well. “But then I thought further about it and there’s only one person that would invite me in such a way,” Gihun places his palms on the table and leans closer. “The Frontman ,” 

Inho smiles. “You’ve been looking for me for quite some time,” he muses as Gihun’s eyes trail over his face. “Well, here I am.” He opens his arms slightly, showing Gihun that he had nothing to hide. “Say what it is you wish to say,” 

Gihun leaned closer, his glare way more intense on Inho than it was when he was speaking to the golden pig. “Stop the game.” he demands.

“Alright,” Inho agrees, amused when Gihun’s face shifts into confusion. Inho turns his attention to the owner at the counter. “Can we have two bottles of soju and the meat as well?” the owner voiced that she heard him with an affirmation.  

“Are you messing with me right now?” Gihun asked, looking like an injured animal backed into a corner. 

“I can agree to stop the games,” Inho amends so Gihun doesn’t walk out on him. “But in return, I need you to listen to the story I have to tell.” Inho pauses, taking in Gihun’s growing tension. When was the last time he had let himself relax? “You are not being held hostage here, Gihun-ssi. You are free to leave at any point if you feel like it.” Gihun curls his fingers into the table like he was physically restraining himself from lunging at Inho. If that was what he really desired, Inho would let him do so. The soju bottles being placed on the table by the waitress startled the both of them out of their tension. Inho thanked her quietly before grabbing a clean glass and placing it in front of Gihun. 

“I don’t want to drink,” Gihun grits out.

“You will,” Inho promises, setting the bottle to the side for when he changes his mind. Meat gets delivered a minute later and Gihun stares with wide eyes at the amount of food placed on the table; clearly not expecting it. “You haven't eaten all day, or the previous.” Inho explained, remembering the reports submitted to him when he had people spying on Gihun for him. “It's my treat,” 

“Are you here to feed me, or explain what it is you have to tell me?” Gihun snaps. Inho doesn’t outwardly react. Focusing instead on taking off his grey jacket, putting it to the side before rolling up the black sleeves of his turtleneck so he could begin cooking the meat. Gihun is just staring at him. “Why aren’t you answering me?” Gihun questions through the sound of meat sizzling on the grill. The smell permeates the air and Inho could see it beginning to affect Gihun. Try as he might, his body needed food to survive and Gihun would not be able to resist much longer. 

Inho places meat down on his plate. “Eat, Gihun-ssi, we’ll talk. You have my word.” Inho reassures gently. Gihun wants to fight—Inho knows he does—but his eyes look towards the food, betraying his hunger. 

“Why?” he finally relents, looking at Inho with desperation. “Why are you acting like this?” 

“Acting like what?” Inho asks as he places more meat on the grill. 

“Like you care about me,” Gihun retorts, making Inho sigh.

“If you don’t understand after I tell my story,” Inho begins, looking at Gihun with a serious expression. “Then you can shoot me with the gun you have,” Gihun’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t surprised Inho knew about it. Inho would be a fool if he didn’t. “Now eat.” he urges again, pushing the tray of veggies and sauces towards him. Gihun begrudgingly picks up his chopstick and begins to eat. He started off slow at first, like his tongue hadn’t quite registered the taste of food, but when he swallowed and took that second bite, Inho could see the hesitation disappear. It eased his worries just a little. 

They eat in silence for a long while with Inho focusing on cooking and Gihun eating more food than he had in a long while. Eventually, Gihun snatched the tongs from his hands and began to cook the meat so Inho could eat. The action itself felt very domestic and there was a pang of longing in Inho’s chest. He swallowed the feeling down with soju. When their table was cleared out, only the soju bottles remained. Gihun pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket to smoke but curses when he sees it empty. Inho takes the new pack he bought out of his pocket and places it in front of Gihun who stares at it for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Everything began with a question,” Inho started. “A question that—at the time—I had no answer to.” Gihun doesn’t look directly at him as he takes a drag from his cigarette, but he’s listening. “Something unexpected and strange happened to me, and after far too long, I finally understood what I had been too blind to see.” Inho looks at Gihun. “All thanks to you,” 

“Me?” Gihun questions, looking at him. “I haven’t done anything,” 

Inho shakes his head. “You’ve done far more than you realized Seong Gihun-ssi,” 

He tells the story from the very beginning. Back when Inho had been married, happy, and carefree about life. How his wife had been diagnosed with liver fibrosis and they had found out she had been pregnant during testing. It's a story Inho can’t tell without tears in his eyes. That day for him remained fresh in his mind as though it only happened yesterday. “I was desperate, so I joined the games,” Inho continues. He went into detail about all the games and everything that happened until he was a finalist along with five other men. When he started to explain the moment Il-nam summoned him, Gihun’s hands began to shake and Inho silently poured him a drink, which he accepted without hesitation this time. 

“I killed them all,” Inho admitted. “I did what needed to be done to survive and go home to my wife and unborn child. But it didn’t matter in the end, she was already dead.” 

“He knew,” Gihun interjects, eyes red and full of fury. “That fucking bastard knew ; thats why he offered you that choice.” 

“I speculated as much as well,” Inho agrees. “He viewed the lives of people as nothing more than chess pieces ” 

“Well, he lost to me in the end.” Gihun says, a flicker of his old self showing within that sentence. “Shows what he thought he knew.” 

The rest of the story came out easily after that, most of the information Gihun already knew from his own games. It was when Inho started talking about the upcoming games that haven't happened yet that Gihun’s expression shifted into one of disbelief. “I know it sounds crazy,” Inho said. “But please listen until the end.” He told Gihun how the games played out, the relationships he made, how Inho had joined undercover as Player 001, how he started a rebellion; everything. He left nothing out and Gihun could do nothing but sit there and process it all. “It's hard to believe, I know.” Inho admits. “But it happened, I left the island and you were buried along with it.” 

“Fuck,” Gihun muttered, forgoing the glass entirely and drinking straight from the bottle itself. Inho doesn’t blame him.

“It was what happened after that made things even stranger,” Inho continued, going into detail about the time loops and everything that happened. Well, maybe not everything. He left the sexual parts of the story completely out. Gihun didn’t need that kind of shock. “I don’t know why it happened in the first place, but it did… and somehow that led me to having a second chance here, with you,” 

Gihun runs a hand down his face, looking both exhausted and overwhelmed with what Inho told him. “And because of all that, you want to help me end the games?” 

“Yes,” 

“It's really hard to believe,” Gihun finally settled on. “I don’t even know how I can believe you,” 

“I never expected you to,” Inho admits. “I just needed you to know.” Gihun snuffs out his cigarette into the ashtray. “With the knowledge that I have of every event, I wanted to know if you were willing to help.” 

“Join the games again, you mean?” 

“Yes, although this time, it will be for the sole purpose of ending it once and for all.” 

“And what if I refuse?” Gihun counters. Inho already planned for this.

“Then I will do so without you.”

“But then you might die,” Gihun points out. “The VIPs could kill you, or…you could kill yourself with them.” Inho nods. “You’re actually serious,” Gihun says in disbelief. 

“When it concerns your life Gihun-ssi, I’m always serious,” Gihun falls silent and Inho slides a card across the table with his phone number on it. “You don’t need to decide tonight.” Inho reassures. After all, they still had two months until the games were scheduled to begin. “What I’m asking is a risk to the both of us. But I believe that if we were to work together, we could succeed.” Gihun grabbed the card, flipping it back and forth a few times in his hands, thinking carefully.

“You have a lot of confidence in someone that doesn’t technically exist,” Gihun remarked.

“And yet, I see him sitting before me anyway,” Gihun’s face flushed red at that. He pockets the card into his jacket and stands to leave. Inho watches, taking in every inch of him while he still could. “One last question,” Gihun asks, looking at Inho. “Who am I to you, that you would go this far?” 

“Everything.”

The next step was one of the hardest things Inho ever had to do. 

He stood alone in Junho’s apartment, watching all the fish swim around the small fish tank he didn't know Junho had gotten. It looked really taken care of and Inho wondered what it was that got Junho into this hobby. Two golden colored fish swam by, answering Inho’s question as he stared at them with a deep feeling of sadness. He had taken two fish back to his goshiwon apartment years ago when he had first joined as a Frontman. At the time, while he may have had 45.6 Billion won sitting in his bank account, he didn’t bother to overspend or use it. Seeing these fish here meant that Junho had found that apartment and that was why he had started looking for Inho in the first place. 

“Hyung, why?” 

A pistol clicked in his direction and Inho stood up straight, turning towards the front door he didn’t hear open. Junho stepped in, clearly thinking Inho was some kind of intruder, but his face changed immediately when he realized who he was looking at. “Hello, Junho,” Inho said and Junho just stared at him, the hands holding the gun lowering. “I know you have questions, and I promise to answer them—” Inho didn’t get to finish what he was saying when Junho collided into him, hugging him. 

“Hyung, you’re home,” Junho whispered, his arms wrapping so tight around him, like he was afraid Inho was going to disappear any second. Inho wrapped his arms around him in return, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Junho’s head like he used to do when Junho was little, and patting his back with the other. 

“I’m home,”  he whispered, tears in his own eyes. Junho broke down and sobbed. 

Later, when they got their emotions together, Junho served them both coffee. Inho wrapped his hands around the mug, taking in the warmth it brought him as Junho sat across from him. “What changed?” he asked and Inho didn’t know where to start, so he started from the beginning. Retelling the story about Gihun, going back into the games, and the loops. Junho didn’t say much at first when Inho finished the story. “So it… was like a dream?” he questioned. 

“I suppose you could think of it like that,” Inho answers. “But it was a very… real dream. I felt every death like it actually happened." Junho curled his fingers into the outside of his mug, looking bothered. “You don’t need to be upset about it,” Inho reassured him. “It all technically never happened.” 

“I know but… why? Why did that all happen?”

“I still don’t know the answer to that question,” Inho admits. He could gather a few guesses, but what would be the point? It already happened and Inho got this one chance to do it all over again. “I want to make things right, and… at least I have the chance to do that now.” 

“Do you think it's because of him?” Junho asked, referring to Gihun. Inho thinks about the original loop, the one where Gihun stared at him through the camera, pleading with Inho to do something. He hadn’t done anything despite every part of his mind screaming for him to take action. It's something Inho regretted and will continue to regret for the rest of his life even though Gihun was alive here and now. 

“I should’ve done more,” Inho admits, feeling hot tears gather in his eyes. He failed his wife. He failed his brother. Why would he fail Gihun too? “Why didn’t I do more when he was right there waiting for me?” 

“You love him,” Junho realizes and Inho has to look away in shame. 

“I shouldn’t. I don’t deserve him. I don’t—” 

“Hyung,” Junho reached for him, his hands on Inho's, squeezing them in reassurance. “Hyung, it's okay . We all make mistakes. We’re human. And, it's not like you’re not trying now, right? You told him everything, so it's okay to love him.” 

“I…” Inho didn’t have any words left, but he knows Junho is right. However, it will still take a lot of time before he or Gihun were to figure out where to go from here. “When did you get so good with words?” Inho asked, unable to hide his smile. Junho grinned back at him. 

“I learned from the man who raised me.” 

Inho’s phone vibrated then, and he looked to see a text from Gihun, telling him that he would join in on Inho’s plan. “Junho, how would you feel about helping me expose and take down the VIPs once and for all?” Junho didn’t even hesitate. 

“I’m in.” 

Gihun was sitting on the bed, staring at the two other beds where Saebyeok and Sangwoo were supposed to be sleeping. Instead, they were both also sitting up, staring at him. Not with a look of hatred, or anything like that. But as though they were just merely watching him, waiting. A triangle soldier walked in and broke Gihun’s line of sight. “He wishes to see you,” the soldier said and Gihun stood from the bed, following after him. He took one last glance behind him, finding all the beds gone from the room; leaving just an empty room with an empty golden pig. 

The elevator doors opened and Gihun was embraced by a golden room that didn’t feel as intimidating or isolating as he expected. Instead, it felt warm. Like a sunrise that first trickles into the room, spreading its rays until its golden color turns even brighter. Ahead of him was the masked Frontman, standing in the center of the with no table or chairs between them. “Player 456,” the Frontman began, holding out his hands where there is a red pill and blue pill seated on top of each gloved palm. “Do you choose the red pill, or the blue pill?” 

“Neither,” Gihun answered, stepping closer to him. He removed the mask and saw the handsome man beneath, staring at him with eyes so full of regret and loneliness. “I choose you,” he affirmed, gently laying a palm on the man’s cheek.

“Will you regret it?” he asked, closing his eyes as Gihun leaned closer. 

“No,” Gihun said against his lips. 

“Gihun, come on, wake up!” Gihun’s eyes fluttered open, but clenched them shut when the sunlight got into his eyes. “There you go,” he heard and Gihun felt hands gently brush his hair back. 

“Is he alright?” a feminine voice asked. 

“Yes, he just hit his head a little too hard during the escape. He’s fine,” Hands helped him to sit up and Gihun groaned in protest. “Maybe a mild concussion,” 

“That's an understatement,” Gihun said, finally opening his eyes to see Inho kneeling in front of him, his hands gentle on his head and making the pain lessen. His eyes traveled to see Hyun-ju looking down at him in return. Her eyes were critical of his injuries, but she seemed satisfied enough with how he was to relent her gaze and smile at him.  

“Its good to see you awake,” 

“And the others?” Gihun asked and she turned her head over to the large group talking together in the center of the cargo boat. Junhee was in a wheelchair with her baby secure in her arms while everyone surrounded her making sure she was comfortable while cooing the baby at the same time. 

“Yah! Give her and the baby space!” Guemja scolded, her mother's instincts kicking in as the group quickly spread out. 

“Gihun-ah!” Jungbae shouts from afar, waving his arm at him along with Daeho. Gihun raises a hand in acknowledgement and Jungbae wraps his arm around Daeho's shoulder, giving him what Gihun would assume to be yet another pep talk. 

“Everyone made it,” Gihun can’t help but sigh in relief. 

“We did, thanks to the both of you,” Hyunju said, looking between the two of them with a thankful smile. 

“Unnie!” Young-mi shouts with a bouncy step, looking excited as she waves her hand to usher Hyunju over. “Come hold the baby!” 

“Coming!” Hyunju shouts. “I’ll leave you two be, make sure to take care of him.” she said, eyeing Inho with a look. Inho laughed. 

“Of course,” he said before sitting next to Gihun who couldn’t help but lean against him. Inho was warm, and he smelled like the earth upon sun-kissed wood. “Are you going to be okay?” Inho asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and gently running his fingers through Gihun’s short strands. 

“I will,” Gihun reassured. “Its just… strange to believe it's all finally over.” 

“Yes,” Inho agreed, his eyes glancing over at the island they were sailing from. There was a look of fear in his eyes. 

“Are you afraid?” Gihun asked, lifting his head so Inho had no choice but to look at him. 

“Yes,” Inho admitted in a whisper. “I’m afraid I'll wake up and it’ll all go back to… how it was originally,” 

“It won’t.” Gihun assured him. The island exploded and the entire ship burst into loud thunderous applause. Inho was petrified but Gihun kept their eyes locked together until everything settled nicely. Inho closed his eyes and opened them, his eyes widening when he realized that he was still in the same place. “See?” Gihun said with a smile and Inho had never looked so happy. He kissed him unexpectedly, but Gihun didn’t mind because it felt right . Like two sides of the same coin finally reuniting back together. 

“Let's go!! Gay rights!!” Thanos shouted from afar, throwing his fists up in the air as Inho and Gihun broke away from their kiss.

“Dude! Read the room!” Semi scolded him. 

“Technically, we're on a boat,” Namgyu pointed out. 

“Oh my god. You two are hopeless,” she groaned. “Come on Minsu, let's not have you influenced by them,” she said as she dragged the shy boy with her while Thanos and Namgyu jumped around having fun.

“Kids,” Inho said, shaking his head, but Gihun could tell he didn't mind at all. 

“Inho, remember when you said everything started with a question?” Gihun asked and Inho nodded. “What was the question?”

“Did we ever have a future to begin with?”

“And the answer?”

Inho smiles. “Yes, because I will make sure of it.