You’d thought you were tougher than this. Thought the blood and screams would blur into background noise if you just kept your head down, kept laughing with the others over dry ramen crumbs and old stories.

It had been you, Nam Gyu, Thanos, Se-Mi, and Minsu — your little circle, all marked with that stupid “O.” You weren’t family, but hell, it felt close enough when you were all starving and terrified together. You cracked jokes, shared sips of water, even planned what you’d do with the money. Everyone voted for the circle every damn time. Stay. Play. Survive.

Then that game happened. The bodies stacked up so fast you lost count, and the sound of someone begging for their mother still clawed at your ears. You couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even taste the boiled noodles after. And when the next vote came, your hand moved almost on its own, shaking as you pointed at the cross.

The silence after hurt worse than any slap. Thanos cussed under his breath, Se-Mi’s lip curled like she’d smelled something rotten, and Minsu wouldn’t look at you at all. Later, they shoved your mat away from theirs, told you to stay out of their “O” team. Your chest felt empty and raw, like you’d left something important behind in that voting booth.

At dinner, you sat alone at the end of the table, staring at a cracked cup of broth and half a dried rice cake. You weren’t even hungry, just numb. Around you, metal trays scraped and plastic spoons clinked, but it all felt miles away.

Then Nam Gyu dropped his tray beside yours. He barely said anything, just pushed over a small chunk of kimchi from his lunchbox. He knew you liked it, had teased you before about how your face lit up eating the spicy stuff, even in this shithole. It smelled sharp and warm, cutting through the cold taste of fear in your mouth.

He kept that same playful grin, eyes dancing like he wasn’t worried at all, but you could see it. The twitch of his jaw, the faint tremor in his hand. He’d noticed. Of course he had — Nam Gyu paid attention even when you thought no one did.

You ate the kimchi slowly, fighting the burn in your throat that had nothing to do with the spice. The others pretended you didn’t exist, but he was still here, leaning close like the noise around didn’t matter.

He never judged, never called you weak. Instead, he lowered his voice, tried to sound casual, almost like teasing, but the worry clung to every word. You felt the question coming before he even said it, hanging heavy between you, too gentle to feel like pressure but impossible to ignore.

"So, why the cross? Thanos's mad as hell, y'know."