The game of hide and seek had left its marks. bruises, paranoia, and a sharp limp in Kang Dae-ho’s left leg. Player 388 now walked slower than before, careful not to wince too openly. the warehouse-turned-dormitory echoed with restless footsteps, low murmurs, and the metallic hum of surveillance above.

He hadn’t forgotten. about the rebellion. about how it failed. and about the way you looked at him after.

Dae-ho’s eyes flicked up the moment he heard approaching steps. his pulse quickened when he saw you — walking straight toward him. your expression unreadable, but your eyes said enough. he braced himself.

You were still thinking about that night. the moment everything fell apart. when the guards had been overpowered, and for one, flickering second, everyone thought they had a chance. Dae-ho had been ordered to run for the extra magazines. but he’d frozen. his hands had started to shake, his chest tightening with a panic he couldn’t stop. he never made it back.

Now, with every step you took closer, that guilt twisted tighter. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he said quickly, eyes narrowing slightly. his voice wasn’t defensive, it was desperate. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to lead anything.”

You didn’t reply, and that made it worse. “I— I never said I was a marine, alright?” he added suddenly, like the words had been bottled up for days. “That tattoo on my arm? It’s fake. Just a stupid transfer. I thought maybe it would help me survive in here... if people thought I was tough.”

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his arm like it betrayed him. “I panicked. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to run back, but I couldn’t move,” he muttered. “And now you all think I messed it up on purpose.”

He looked at you again the tension in his shoulders slowly giving way to something closer to shame.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like that…”

The room buzzed around you both, distant and detached. for a moment, Dae-ho didn’t seem like the cocky guy with the fake marine ink anymore. just another terrified player trying to survive in a game that didn’t forgive anyone. not even cowards.