𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

***

Footsteps echoed dully through the hallway. The players were returning to the common room. None of them said a word. In-Ho walked behind Gi-Hun, eyes fixed on the ground. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders slumped as if bearing a heavy weight. On the outside, he looked calm, as always — but deep down, everything was burning. A restless flame growing stronger with every second. I’m the Frontman. The one in charge of this game. I’m the one who keeps order here. But when I’m near you… I grow weaker with every moment. And I’m scared that if I weaken completely, if you find out who I really am — that the one you hate most, the one you’re desperate to find here… is standing right in front of you.. You’ll leave. Definitely leave. You’ll disappear from my life. And I’ll lose you again. And that terrifies me the most. Behind them, Jung-Bae's voice rang out again, followed by Dae-Ho's quiet laughter. Even now, those two found a way to lighten the mood. Jun-Hee walked silently at the back, one hand resting on her stomach. Back in the common room, the players immediately proceeded to vote on whether to continue or stop the game. The "circle" team — those who wanted to keep playing — won again. Then lunch began. Gi-Hun, grabbing a double portion, scanned the crowd for In-Ho. He just wanted to thank him — for the kindness that morning, for saving him during the jegi challenge. In-Ho had risked his life, arguing with the guards. He spotted the familiar number "001" on a green tracksuit in the crowd and smiled, approaching the Frontman with a bun and a bottle of water. — Yeong-Il, take it… I had to thank you for earlier… In-Ho looked up at him, then down at the food. His face remained as calm as ever. — …Thank you," — he said quietly, taking the offering. — It’s fine. Before Gi-Hun could say anything else, In-ho turned away and slowly walked off, sitting alone on one of the bunk steps — away from everyone. Away from him. Gi-Hun stood frozen for a moment, mouth slightly open in disbelief, watching him go. His smile slowly faded. Yeong-Il. Are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong? — Yeong-Il… — he called again softly. But it was useless. No response. Not even a glance. — Hey, Gi-Hun! Come on, let’s eat together! —  Jung-Bae’s voice suddenly rang out behind him, making him jump. The guy sure had a way of sneaking up on people. Gi-Hun gave one last glance at In-Ho’s distant figure, sighed deeply, and walked off with his friend. As the others chatted, trying to enjoy their meager meal, Gi-Hun ate in silence, occasionally glancing over at the Frontman’s back — hoping, maybe, he’d turn around. Maybe… even come and sit beside him. Noticing this, Jung-Bae scooted closer. — Hey, what’s wrong? — he asked through a mouthful of bread. — What’s on your mind? Gi-Hun looked over and shook his head. — Well, Yeong-Il… He’s been so distant since the game, — he said quietly. — I don’t know what happened. — Dude, he’s always been...um...a little off,.— Jung-Bae said with a shrug, taking another bite. — And after all that crap we’ve been through, who wouldn’t be different? Even you’ve been weird — zoning out one second, then randomly laughing. It’s just stress, you know? — But he saved me, — Gi-Hun sighed. — And now he acts like it meant nothing. — Just listen: don’t dwell on it. He’s stressed, just like the rest of us.— Jung-Bae gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. — Yeong-Il probably just needs some time. Don’t beat yourself up. Yet Gi-Hun didn’t respond. He just stared into space. Then his eyes landed on the voting results displayed on the board. His expression turned sour. — Damn it! They’re still in the lead! — Jung-Bae muttered bitterly. — Do these people really not care about their lives? — Before every vote, the staff announces the money added from the latest game… — Gi-Hun nodded toward the giant piggy bank hanging from the ceiling. — It’s part of the game. He knows how to exploit people’s weaknesses. — He? Who’s "he"? — The man in black. He is their leader. — Leader, huh… — Jung-Bae wrinkled his nose. — And how exactly do you plan to stop him? There’s a lot of them, and they’ve got guns. Gi-Hun didn’t answer. He just clenched his fists. He didn’t know how to stop the Frontman. But he knew why. In the background, In-Ho still sat quietly, nearly dissolved into shadow. He hadn’t touched his food — just left it beside him. But he was listening. Closely. Every word Gi-Hun said embedded itself into his mind, like a needle piercing under his skin. Time dragged. Lunch had long ended. Most of the players had returned to their bunks; some still talked in small groups. In-Ho didn’t speak to anyone the entire day. And that worried Gi-Hun even more. His eyes kept drifting to the lone figure sitting apart from the rest. Yeong-Il. Are we… really not going to talk again anymore? Lying in bed, staring up at the underside of the upper bunk, Gi-Hun replayed the day’s events in his mind. He didn’t even notice when lights-out was announced. — "All players… prepare to sleep. Lights out in five minutes!" — the familiar female voice echoed from the speakers. When the signal sounded and the lights shut off, Gi-Hun simply sighed, turning onto his side. He didn’t feel sleepy. His mind wouldn’t quiet down. The memories of the day kept circling back: how everyone had supported one another, cheered at the win, how Yeong-Il had argued with the guards to save him—and how he’d then pulled away like nothing had ever happened between them. Yeong-Il. Gi-Hun quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake anyone, and walked over to where In-Ho was sitting. The Frontman was still awake, sitting on the edge of his bunk, holding a bottle of water. — Yeong-Il… — Gi-Hun whispered softly as he approached. — Can we talk? In-Ho looked up at him. The soft glow from the cross-shaped light marking the "no" voters gently illuminated his face. — Yes, — he said evenly. — What do you want to ask about? — Why are you pulling away, Yeong-Il?… — Gi-Hun leaned against the metal frame of the bunk, looking down at him. — Did I do something wrong? Frontman was silent for a moment, thinking. — Did they threaten you? The masked ones… —  Gi-Hun’s voice dropped. — You stood up for me — and then suddenly… — It’s fine, Gi-hun, — In-Ho cut him off with a deep sigh. — And you didn’t lose. — Damn I know that! — Gi-Hun snapped. — But you risked your life for me — then acted like we’re strangers! In-Ho set the bottle aside and met his gaze. — It’s dangerous to get attached here, — he said coldly. — People who grow close… may end up facing each other in the next round. Gi-Hun frowned but said nothing. In-Ho squinted slightly, eyes meeting his. — Gi-Hun… how many people did you get close to the last time you won? — A few, — he answered quietly. — We helped each other. — And where are they now? — In-Ho’s voice hardened. — Did they survive? The question made Gi-Hun tense up. Silence fell between them. He clenched his fists. — ...I lost a lot of people… — his voice trembled. — But this time, I won’t make the same mistake. I won’t lose the people I care about. In-Ho looked away. Those words hit him like a blade. He held his breath for a second, then slowly stood and walked closer — almost too close. — Listen: the closer you get to someone… — he murmured, looking down on the floor, — the more it hurts to lose them. — So you really don’t want to be near me? — Gi-Hun sighed heavily. In-Ho lifted his gaze. — I do. — The answer came sharply, without hesitation. — And that’s exactly why I’m keeping my distance. They stood in silence, watching each other in the dim light. Somewhere nearby, Jung-Bae snored. I want to be near you, Gi-Hun. I really do. Yet he couldn’t say that out loud. •••TO BE CONTINUED•••