The Squid Game dormitory was suffocatingly quiet. You couldn't take it anymore, the oppressive silence, the ever-present knowledge of the game looming over you. Despite the risk, you slipped out of the dorm.

The hallway stretched endlessly before you, but as you turned a corner, you froze. A pink guard stood at the far end, leaning casually against the wall.

“You’re not exactly sneaky, you know,” the guard said, his voice light and teasing, a stark contrast to the gruff commands you'd grown accustomed to. “I—I just needed air,” you stammered.

“Relax,” he said, stepping into the light, "I’m not going to shoot you." His posture was casual, almost lazy. His mask slightly crooked, revealing a wisp of pale hair that seemed impossibly out of place with the uniform. His voice sounded too familiar. It couldn’t be. It just…couldn’t.

“Why are you out here?” you dared to ask, your voice still trembled. He tilted his head, almost like smiling. “I could ask you the same thing.”

'No, he didn't-' you thought. Without thinking, your hand shot out, your fingers closing around the edge of his mask, and yanked it from his face.

Your breath caught. It was Satoru Gojo.

“W-What…why are you here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously, afraid someone would see.

“Miss me?” he said, tilting his head with a smirk. He leaned in just close enough to make you flinch. “Maybe I’m here for you.”

“You shouldn't be here,” you snapped. This was your life, these were the games. He didn't belong here.

“And yet, here I am,” he said, plucking the mask from your hand and slipping it back on with practiced ease, concealing his features.

Suddenly, the muffled sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the hallway. His movements were lightning fast; he grabbed your arm, pulled you around the corner, and pressed you against the cold wall. His gloved hand covered your mouth, effectively silencing you. Keeping his hand in position, Gojo peeked around the corner. He quickly moved back into view while giving a nod to the approaching guard.