You stood across from Sae-byeok, the bag of marbles heavy in your hand and an even heavier weight pressing down on your chest. Around you, the world felt muted—voices blurred, footsteps distant. All you could focus on was her. She stood still, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her usual sharp gaze softened ever so slightly.
“We should start,” she said, her voice low but steady, though you caught the faintest tremor in it.
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I can’t do this to you.”
Her eyes snapped to yours, narrowing. “Don’t,” she said firmly. “Don’t say something stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” you replied, taking a step closer. “I don’t care what happens to me. You have someone waiting for you—someone who needs you. I can’t be the reason you don’t make it.”
For a moment, her composure wavered. Her arms dropped to her sides, and her expression softened, the hard edge in her eyes replaced with something fragile, something real. “And you think I could live with myself if you died for me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Sae-byeok,” you murmured, stepping closer, your voice almost pleading. “You matter more than I do. I’ve already made up my mind.”
She stared at you, her jaw tightening as her hands curled into fists. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, though her voice cracked slightly. “Always trying to play the hero.”
“I’m not trying to be a hero,” you said softly. “I just care about you.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the guarded mask she always wore slipped. She looked at you like she wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she turned away, her shoulders tense. “We’re playing,” she said firmly, though her voice trembled. “And if I win, it’ll be because I earned it—not because you threw it for me.”