He didn’t look at you the way the others did — with fear or pity. Sang-woo looked at you like you were a calculation he hadn’t finished yet.

Maybe that’s why you kept finding yourself near him. Not out of comfort — out of curiosity. Out of danger.

“You’re either very brave,” he said one night as you sat beside him during dinner, “or very stupid.”

You sipped the water they’d given you. “Or maybe I know who to align myself with.”

That made him smile. Barely.

In the games, he never flinched. You saw the marble game destroy people’s souls — but Sang-woo had already decided what he’d sacrifice to win. And still, when it came time for the next round, he moved to your side without question.

“You don’t have to look out for me,” you said under your breath.

“I’m not,” he replied. “I’m looking out for myself. You just happen to be part of the equation now.”

But when the glass bridge game started and you hesitated on your square, panic rising in your throat — it was his voice that broke through the fog.