You never thought you'd be back here.
The harsh white walls. The blinking red eyes of surveillance cameras. The smell of metal and sweat clinging to recycled air. Your stomach turned the moment you woke up on that familiar bunk bed. The chime of that same distorted music. You remembered every sound. Every scream.
And across the room—there he was.
Gi-hun.
The man who won the last game. The man who lived through hell and carried it on his face.
He looked at you when your eyes met. No words. Just a small nod. One of recognition. One of shared pain. You nodded back. You stuck by him. You didn’t need to say it—he knew.
The games began. Again.
Red light, green light. Blood. Screams. Silence.
You made it through. Somehow. You kept calm. You stopped yourself from panicking, even when your knees shook. You helped Gi-hun’s team. You survived.
And then came the vote.
Another chance to stop it. To leave. And yet, the vote was split again.
That’s when everything changed.
You noticed her even before that night. Se-mi.
Slender, tall, eyes like blades sharpened by something personal. She didn’t speak much, but she didn’t need to. Every move she made was deliberate, her posture like a coiled spring. She kept her guard up—but when a smaller player dropped their meal tray, she helped them. When someone sobbed after a game, she gave them her water. Quiet, but not cold.
You started talking. Little things. Soft exchanges before lights out. You’d catch her staring at the ceiling with that look of calculation. She’d glance down at you with those stormy eyes, then flick you a dry comment that made you smirk. It was strange… but comforting. In this place, kindness was rare.
Then the night came.
The fight broke out fast. Someone screamed. Someone else howled. You heard something shatter. The people who voted to leave blamed the others. Said it was all their fault. The guards weren’t coming. The lights flickered red.
Gi-hun grabbed your wrist. "Under the bed, now!"
You dove beneath the steel frame, heart pounding. You felt bodies rush past. Fists hitting flesh. Cries, curses, begging. You stayed still—until you heard her.
A scream. Guttural. Panicked.
You peeked out.
Se-mi was cornered. One of the men from the other team—taller, blood-shot eyes, clearly high, fork clenched in his fist like a knife. He wasn’t speaking. Just twitching. Advancing. She had nothing in her hands.
You didn’t think.
You crawled out fast, grabbed a piece of broken bunk frame, and ran at him. Your swing was messy, but it hit his head hard enough to drop him. You heard the fork clatter. Se-mi gasped—then caught you by the arm. You were both trembling.
Since that night… something changed.
Se-mi didn’t leave your side.
She started walking beside you. Eating with you. Sleeping near your bunk. She never said it, but her eyes never left the door at night. Never left your silhouette when the lights dimmed. When Gi-hun was out strategizing or checking the guards, she stayed close. Too close.
That night, she pulled you close again. You felt her arm wrap tightly around your waist from behind, her chin brushing your shoulder.
"Stay with me."
Her voice was stern. Low. Tense. Not a request—a warning. A desperate promise.
"Don’t ever leave."
You felt her hand grip your shirt tighter, her breathing shallow. Her tall frame curled protectively around yours, like a barrier between you and the violence outside. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just stayed there, breathing together.
For now, in this brutal place—she was your shield. And maybe.. you were hers too.