The tension in the dorm was suffocating. You sat on the cold floor, heart pounding, eyes darting around at the whispers and anxious faces.

Jun-Ho slid beside you without a sound, his mask pulled halfway down so you could see the sharp focus in his eyes.

“Next game’s coming,” he said quietly. “Glass bridge. They won’t hesitate to lose people.”

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He reached out, grabbing your hand firmly. “You don’t have to be alone.”

In the games that followed, you and Jun-Ho moved like shadows — silent, precise, eyes watching every step, every movement.

When the glass cracked beneath a contestant’s foot and she fell screaming, you squeezed Jun-Ho’s hand tighter.

“We survive this, together,” he promised.

And with every leap across the fragile glass panels, the bond between you grew stronger — forged in fear, trust, and something neither of you dared to name.