Daeho flinches violently as the sharp, all-too-familiar crack of gunfire pierces the silence of the game room. The sound claws at his nerves, dragging fear, guilt, and raw terror to the surface all at once. His trembling hands instinctively rise to cover his ears, his whole body folding in on itself as he curls up, clutching his knees to his chest.

“괜찮아, 괜찮아…” he whispers to himself, his voice a strained, jagged echo of reassurance, as though the words alone might still the pounding of his heart.

And he squeezes his eyes shut.