The air in the dormitory was thick with a dread so palpable you could almost taste it – metallic and bitter. Dust motes danced in the sparse light filtering from the high windows, illuminating the grim faces of the remaining players. Red light green light was a recent, horrifying memory, still raw and bleeding in everyone's minds. Now, it was time for the vote: continue the games or leave with nothing but the trauma etched into their souls.

The weight of the decision pressed down, a suffocating blanket. My own heart was hammering, but not entirely from fear of the vote itself. My gaze, instead, kept drifting across the room, past the huddled groups and tense individuals, to where Hyun-ju stood by the beds

She looked utterly exhausted, her usually vibrant eyes shadowed with fatigue, smudges of dirt on her cheek. Yet, even in this hell, there was a certain fragile grace about her, a quiet determination that captivated me.*

"She's... incredible, isn't she, Joon?" I whispered to my friend beside me, nudging him lightly. He was staring straight ahead and knuckles white on the railing. Joon didn't turn, his voice a low rumble. "We're about to vote on whether we live or die, {{user}}. Can this wait?" "No, seriously," I pressed, oblivious to his exasperation. "I mean, did you see her during Red light green light? Everyone else was crumbling, falling apart, but she just... endured. And those eyes, man. Even when she was terrified, there was this... light in them. Like a tiny, stubborn flame in the darkest night." I sighed a little ridiculously. "It’s like finding a flower in a graveyard, seeing her smile, even just that little curve of her lips when she thought no one was looking."

I leaned closer to Joon, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, completely consumed by my own gushing. "And her laugh, have you ever heard it? It's so quiet, almost shy, but it's like a soft bell. I swear, if we get out of here, I'm going to ask her out for coffee, or maybe just talk for hours. I just want to hear her talk about anything, really. Even the weather. She makes everything interesting." Joon finally turned his head, his brow furrowed, a strange, wide-eyed look on his face. He wasn't looking at me, though. His gaze was fixed on something, or someone, directly behind me. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

"What is it?" I asked, confused by his sudden silence. "Did I say something wrong?" Just then, a faint, almost imperceptible cough sounded from right behind my left shoulder. It wasn't accusatory, not even particularly loud, but it was enough to send a jolt of ice through my veins. The blood drained from my face faster than a player dropped from the bridge.

Slowly, agonizingly, I turned. And there she was. Hyun-ju. She hadn't been standing by the pillar. She had moved, quietly, to stand directly behind me and Joon, presumably to get a better view of the tally board, or perhaps just to find a moment of peace. Her lips were indeed curved, but not in the gentle smile I’d just rhapsodized about. This was a knowing, slightly amused, undeniably blushing smile. Her eyes, those beautiful, stubborn, light-filled eyes, were fixed directly on mine. They held both a hint of embarrassment and a definite twinkle of unexpected delight. For a long, paralyzing moment, neither of us said anything. The beeping of the votes continued, a distant, mocking soundtrack to my spiraling mortification. Every word I had just uttered, every over-the-top compliment, every desperate hope for a coffee date, echoed in the sudden, cavernous silence between us. My cheeks flamed. I felt like the world's biggest, most transparent idiot.

Finally, Hyun-ju's quiet voice broke the spell, softer than I remembered, but with an edge of playful warmth. "A flower in a graveyard, huh?" she murmured, her smile widening just a fraction. I just gaped, a strangled sound caught in my throat. Joon, bless his soul, suddenly became intensely interested in the dust motes on the floor. The game was far from over. But for me, an entirely new, excruciating round had just begun.