Archive of Our Own

Day 1: 52 Players Remaining

Through the window, Jihoon watches as lush green farmland gives rise to steel and concrete, the height of trees in pastures replaced by looming skyscrapers. As a child, he’d rarely visited these districts of his hometown, but after so many summers making the same bus ride from Seoul to the Busan harbour, the route feels familiar now, and he can name enough landmarks along the way to navigate the trip independently at this point. Wouldn’t even need a map, he’d had enough of the directions memorized at this point. Jihoon could steer his way out of any situation.

Well, any geographical situation. The situation with his mother nixing future participation in the youth summer games – that one was harder to look at a map, point out directions, or otherwise mediate.

“Aren’t you getting too old for that glorified game of tag anyway?” she’d asked, no hint of sympathy in her voice.

He hadn’t bothered to correct her, figuring if she never got it after five years of trying to explain that the tournament was more like capture the flag meet archery quest than anything, she wasn’t ever going to get it.

“Your father expects you to apply for and get the internship position at the company for next summer. Enjoy yourself this year,” his mother said airily, making a floppy sort of hand gesture, “but after this it’s time to work. You’re getting older and that’s enough of this game nonsense. Think of it as your final hurrah.”

Jihoon supposed that as much as father had a death grip on everything, it was nice to hear that he was at least above nepotism. Didn’t mean he was thankful to the overbearing bastard though.

There’s a sigh from the person beside him that draws Jihoon out of his thoughts, although he doesn’t turn away from the window. He can see partial reflections of Soonyoung shifting about in the glass, juxtaposed over the cityscape just outside. He watches fragments of his face shimmer and fade, appearing and disappearing in darkness and light, unable to turn away. It had been a quieter ride than usual without him yammering incessantly into Jihoon’s ear, although by no means a quiet ride in general. Jihoon was vaguely surprised Soonyoung could sleep through the sound of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s mini singing festival a few rows behind them, and Hansol’s dry crackling laughter to the left. Surprising, but not unwelcome. The weight of Soonyoung’s head on his shoulder half the time lulled Jihoon into his own trance, thinking too deeply about things he didn’t want to think about at all.

“It’s our last chance, huh?” Soonyoung murmurs quietly, voice rougher and lower than usual after just being roused from his nap.

Jihoon snaps to attention, the graininess of Soonyoung’s voice like a comb through his hair sending a shiver from his scalp to his spine. He wonders if Soonyoung can read minds, or somehow knew about his conversation with his parents without Jihoon saying a word.

“The seniors are going to be over the age limit soon and then the high school dream team really will be no more. It’d be a shame if after all of this we still don’t make nationals.”

The unease weighing on Jihoon’s shoulders lifts a smidgen, and he sinks back into his seat a little. Right. There’s the issue of the eldest three members’ birth year. Of course it wasn’t about him quitting after this summer. “Why are you talking like we won’t win nationals?” Jihoon grouses.

“You’re right,” Soonyoung says, nodding and turning his head. “This is our year.”

It seems a gentler sentiment than ‘our last chance’, Jihoon thinks, tracing Soonyoung’s profile in the window with his eyes. Maybe not only their last chance to win, but his last chance to see Soonyoung.

It was by chance that Jihoon ended up on the team in high school. He’d been recruited as a first year after someone had seen him during the football unit in phys ed class around the same time the team was desperately looking for new, passable runners. Prior to the moment he’d been accosted by the third-year student, all he knew about the youth summer games came from brief news announcements about winners on TV. There’d been no interest to look into it any further but he’d been rather swept up by the other students in his year who had also been recruited. Well, really just one student in particular. But the rest, as they say, was history.

The games, in their essence, are quite simple. Four teams of 13 get pitted across one of eight islands, with teams given few provisions save for a rough base camp, three bows, and access to basic first aid materials. Each player is fitted with a set of wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, and a collar around their necks which, if disabled, will eliminate the player from that round. Disabling the collar of the team’s one selected markperson eliminates the entire team. To complicate matters, soft-tipped arrows that interact electromagnetically with the cuffs and collar can immobilize a player, rendering them unable to move out of the grid space they were struck in unless freed by the chosen team medic. And that’s not to mention the basic environmental hazards. While there aren’t any predatory animals on the islands, there is always an overgrowth of thorny thickets, blockades of boulders, and otherwise inhospitable flora. Food gets cached randomly across the island prior to game start and needs to be found by players, while water can be drawn from wells that may or may not be located near base camp.

Originally, the games had started off as a sort of military exercise, presenting themselves enticingly to train young men in some of the vital skills required during service. Over time, they’d gained fame in their own right, and winning cities in high school had certainly been a positive spec on all of their resumes heading into college. But the victory had been bittersweet. Seungcheol had broken his arm in the final tussles, and without their leader, the high school team had come crashing out of sectionals, when they were supposed to be a force to be reckoned with at the national level.

It had taken another three years before they’d ended up on the same team once more. While it’s true that this year is their last chance while the seniors are still young enough to be considered ‘youth’ and before the so-called dream team is disbanded for good, it’s also their first chance to try for glory again. They remember, all of them, that heady feeling of invincibility after winning all three rounds without having a single player eliminated to take the title of city champions. A memory that had faded somewhat over time, but now returned full force, buzzing just under the skin, casting an electric charge any time they made eye contact with each other, galvanised by the shared knowledge that they can be the best.

That they will be.

They’ve competed on this island before. Jihoon doesn’t remember it immediately after they’re dropped off by ship to the southwestern shores (roughly speaking, Jihoon’s knack for navigation is useful in all aspects of the game but it’s hard to give precise descriptors when the island isn’t a perfect circle) because the last time they’d played here they were on a different corner of the island. But then the lushness of the vegetation comes up just above the rocks, and he knows. It’s neither one of his favourites or disliked locations, but the way sound is muffled in the forests here is rather unique. There’s always landscaping between games, but the larger terrain elements can’t be changed so easily, and his brain is immediately filing a self-report – the sloped climb from the eastern borders to the centre of the island, an unexpected ditch on the way down that they’d used last time as a trap to offset the downhill disadvantage, Jihoon categorizes what he can remember and what he can see at the same time as receiving Seungcheol’s instructions, no different from usual.

After pairing off randomly, Jihoon finds himself walking almost back to back with Hansol, both of them on alert and eyes peeled for anything that might look like it could be helpful or harmful. Sometimes, teams would try out early surprise attacks, opting to go for the kill before making camp, gathering supplies, or otherwise settling down. It could sometimes work, depending on how accommodating the land was designed to be, but more often than not, only one team could be taken down with such tactics, leaving another two to ransack an unprotected base camp and attack from behind. Still, it was prudent to keep an eye out for activity, especially with the sound dampening effect of the plants.

“We should be there soon, right?” Hansol asks, squinting behind them.

“Almost,” Jihoon replies. The glance he’d taken of the map remains seared behind his eyelids, though he’d spend a bit more time to memorize the details later, when they weren’t so vulnerable. He rubs a bit at his neck, the collar making itself known in uncomfortable ways. He could only grin and bear it. In a day, he’d forget it was even there, but in the first hours after they had to put these things on, they always felt heavy and sticky against his skin.

Hansol fans himself with one hand. “Good. I hope we have some good shade. This summer’s shaping up to be pretty hot already.”

He's right, but it’s not just the heat. The island’s humidity makes the heat much harder to bear than it has any right to be, and while it explains all of the shrubbery, it doesn’t make a pleasant walking experience by any means. Jihoon grimaces. “I’ll take the heat if I have to, as long as it doesn’t rain. This place seems like rain could bring a bloodbath.”

“Knock on wood. I do not want to be slipping around on leaves or digging arrows out of the mud. Please and thank you.”

Jihoon might have said something in reply, but they both spot the clearing shortly thereafter and hustle to base camp, arriving third of the duos. Mingyu’s already doing inventory on what’s available in the kitchen equipment-wise (for food there’s only ever instant rice, if you want better you have to find it) and Seungkwan’s helping Seungcheol figure out rooms and cots. Jihoon pulls out the map to begin working on studying their best routes, and Hansol disappears without him noticing, probably to find the others in his unit and divvy up the bows.

Seokmin and Jisoo are last to arrive, and once they do everyone gathers in the central area.

“Sorry we’re late,” Seokmin says, a smile on his face, “but we found our well so figured we’d bring some water over for everyone while we were there.”

“Is it far?” Mingyu asks, the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders.

“Not at all.” Jisoo says.

Jihoon makes eye contact with Wonwoo over one of the counters and gets a curt nod. They’d head there to stock up first after the meeting breaks up, and he’ll send Chan off to go look for whatever other rations he can find close to base. Channie was the type who liked exploring, and would enjoy discovering places for traps more than trekking back and forth for water.

“We’ll need food too,” Mingyu says, partially to Seungcheol but he’s looking at Jihoon.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You can eat a granola bar for lunch I’m sure, Kim.” Although, he’s revising the plan in his head as he speaks. They could have the big strong infantry carry water barrels while the three of them went to look for food, and that way Jihoon wouldn’t be forced to put up with whining from Wonwoo and his weedy arms.

Jeonghan clears his throat. “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? We’ve been here for half an hour already and we only have another half hour to choose our mark.”

“Right,” Seungcheol says, “uh.”

The thirteen of them start looking at each other, expecting one of the usual names to come out of Seungcheol’s mouth next, but that’s interrupted almost immediately by Jeonghan, who says with a bright smile, “I think Channie should play mark.”

All eyes swivel to Jeonghan and then to Chan.

Chan opens his mouth and makes a few swooping gestures at his chest before managing to ask, “Me?!”

“Yes,” Jeonghan says in clipped tones. “You’re the one I think we should choose.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow and looks appraisingly over Chan. “Have you ever been marksperson?”

“No…but I can do it,” Chan says with determination. “I’m good at avoiding things and stuff like that.”

“The important thing isn’t avoiding things, because you have everyone else in the team watching your back,” Minghao says in a strangely sage and soft-spoken voice. “You have to not rouse suspicion. Be able to keep up with other people’s mind games and stay on top of your own.”

“So that’s two votes for Chan,” Soonyoung comments mildly.

Chan looks at Soonyoung in disbelief. “You think I should be mark too?!” There’s something so young and innocent in that disbelief that Jihoon almost feels bad about how often they tease their youngest. But then, he laughs every time Soonyoung does it, so not that bad.

Soonyoung shakes his head. “I haven’t decided yet, but Minghao’s in support of you already, can’t you tell?”

“It’s tactically sound,” Minghao says with a shrug, his expression unreadable to Jihoon but definitely leaning more positive than negative, Soonyoung’s right.

“He’s not the most expected mark,” Jihoon says slowly, brain wrapping around that point faster than some of the others, “but he’s also not so unexpected that he would therefore be expected.”

Hansol pitches in with a, “I think he’d actually be pretty good at it given the opportunity.”

“Agreed,” Jisoo says. He wraps an arm around Chan’s shoulders, being one of the closest to him, and offers a squeeze.

“We’re getting close to a majority. Anyone have any other ideas?”

There’s some whispering between Minghao and Mingyu while the rest of them discuss, and Minghao gets Mingyu on board rather quickly. Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, Seungcheol’s still looking at Jeonghan like he’s been blindsided and can’t recover, Seokmin is happy with the idea, Seungkwan starts pinching Chan’s cheek and Soonyoung leaps over to join in, Junhui mutters something about going with the group’s decision, and then Jeonghan’s telling them all to shut up.

“So we agree with me then? Channie’s going to be our mark?”

“Hey hey hey wait, I haven’t agreed yet,” Chan says, rubbing at his face grumpily.

Jeonghan fixes him with a pointed stare. “Well?” He asks impatiently, glare imminent. “Are you going to agree?”

“Haa….. Of– of course, hyung…” Chan says.

“Great! That’s settled then!” Jeonghan announces, clapping his hands twice, a wide grin on his face exposing his teeth. “You can go back to squabbling over canned beef stew or whatever now.”

Predictably, Mingyu and Seungcheol act like macho apes when Jihoon asks them to carry as many dispensers as they have to the well and bring back water, but luckily Minghao is there to smack Mingyu upside the head and get going without feeling the need to start flexing muscles or having an arm wrestling competition. By the time Chan’s finished talking to Jeonghan and his team, Jihoon and Wonwoo have finished drawing up a chart with all the already searched grid spaces of the island cross hatched, and those visited but not thoroughly searched hatched in only one direction.

“We’ll save those as places to double back through on high yield days,” Jihoon says, putting down his pencil. It’s unlikely that they’d find much anyway, so close to safety, and he doesn’t mark it as high priority. More pressing is the need to duplicate the maps so each of them can have versions to mark-up as well as the originals to compare to, but even that comes second to finding dinner for the night.

The three of them fan out eastward, not wanting to concentrate manpower in one region with a whole group drawing water. Soonyoung had left to set up a perimeter with Junhui and Hansol as soon as the meeting had ended, but it’s not so protective when they only have three arrows each to begin. Finding more would be part of tomorrow’s goals. They comb systematically through grid spaces, spreading out and joining up again after each search, and crossing off squares as necessary. Luckily, they don’t have to scout very far before they come across two boxes of MREs, one larger with 25 or so, and the other 10 packs. Enough to last them through tomorrow, depending on people’s preferences for breakfast.

“Reckon we should keep going or head back?” Wonwoo asks. He and Jihoon are carrying the larger box together and it’s rather light. They could continue for longer without getting tired.

“Back,” Chan interjects, before Jihoon can make a decision. “Jeonghan told me to tell you two to do dinner early so they could make a night recon trip before it gets too dark out to see.”

“If someone came to pick these up Jeonghan could have his dinner and we could keep searching,” Jihoon mutters with annoyance. Not having long-range communication devices seems archaic now, with everyone connected through some kind of network or another these days, but the games had been born from military games that begun decades ago and were meant to test survival skills on the bare minimum, without phones or other technology. He supposes if they added communications now they’d have to anchor a team member in charge of encryption – well, Wonwoo could do it possibly. Not a productive train of thought.

The trek back to camp is much faster without paying such close attention to their surroundings. Instead of a warm reception from hungry mouths upon their return, they find only Jeonghan’s team at camp, with Seokmin puttering around in the kitchen space heating up instant rice.

“I thought we were gonna stake out on empty stomachs,” Seungkwan says, eager to help once he spots their arrival.

“Instant rice isn’t nothing,” Seokmin says. “Or should I stop cooking?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “All of our food is ready to eat. We’d live without your help.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re very wieldy with a can opener,” Jeonghan says with unmasked sarcasm. He hurries over as well and starts to prepare the food for the three of them so they can set out quickly.

“Any news?” Chan asks, joining the mix without hesitation.

“We have water,” Seokmin says triumphantly. “That’s about all the big stuff that’s happened recently though,” he finishes after.

“Where did Seungcheol’s team go after they brought the water back?”

“Not sure,” Seokmin admits.

Jeonghan shrugs, “They’re fine. We were napping so we can stay awake through the night, but Jisoo saw them come and go.”

“Where’s Jisoo now?”

It turns out that their team medic is at the outhouse, and that’s the last bit of helpful information they get before the recon team scarfs down their meal and Jihoon’s own team is setting off again using the last hour or two of daylight to comb back through the areas between base and the beach.

They’d gotten a lucky break, finding the well so quickly into this game, and it put them slightly ahead of schedule. Though counting on luck never got you very far on any of the islands.

As night settles in, sky going from a ruddy orange, to purple, to dark inky black, camp grows livelier. When Jihoon, Wonwoo, and Chan arrive with a box of dry cereal, perfect for breakfast in the morning, they find the archery team has returned from patrolling, and Soonyoung tends to start parties wherever he goes.

“Thanks for dinner!” Soonyoung hollers at them, lifting a spoon and motioning to someone behind him. “You haven’t eaten yet, right? Come eat, come eat!”

Jihoon’s mother had been slightly horrified when she found out her son had been eating MREs during the competition but his father rather thought it built character. Jihoon didn’t think it differed much from instant noodles, and the meals weren’t that bad to his palate, all things considered.

“How many arrows have you lot used so far then?” Jihoon asks, swallowing a bite of food and turning his thoughts to shop.

Soonyoung smiles, and it seems more real than the one presented at their first arrival. Softer, at least. Jihoon prefers this side of Soonyoung, not because Soonyoung’s performative side is non-genuine. You can’t fake the kind of enthusiasm Soonyoung sports for nearly everything. But the gentler one seems more personal, and not everyone gets to see him in such an exposed state. “None,” Soonyoung says happily, “and Junhui found ten while we were out so we’ll last through tomorrow morning at least. But obviously it’ll help if you can find more so we can actually go on the offensive instead of just guarding, you know? No pressure or anything, you know how it is.”

Jihoon nods, swallows thickly. “Who’s on perimeter now?”

“Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Minghao. Think two of them will be back soon to eat though and then we can start rotating night guard.”

“Short on manpower though, with Jeonghan’s team out doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

Soonyoung tilts his head to the side. “We’ll figure something out.”

Jihoon’s oddly comforted by that.

It always seemed like night attacks would be the easiest way to take out teams by catching them by surprise, but the island terrain is less than accommodating for that strategy. Carrying open flames is against the rules, more for the safety of the plant-life than the people in Jihoon’s opinion, but visibility out here without the light pollution is near zero, even on a clear night when the moon and stars are bright. You can find flashlights in the supply packs, of course, but when lit they tend to warn of someone’s presence in advance, and diminish the shock factor of a sneak attack as long as there’s anyone in the defending team still awake.

“Jeonghan-hyung really wants to win this year,” Soonyoung says after a moment of silence, Jihoon chewing on his food, Soonyoung’s eyes glazed over while staring at something in the distance.

“We all want to win, idiot.” Jihoon says. He’s alarmed by the fondness he hears in his voice, the quip against Soonyoung’s intelligence regardless.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Soonyoung says, apparently missing the insult entirely. “And Jeonghan hates losing more than anyone in any circumstance. But it’s different this time. Normally he plays with his life on the line – that might be an exaggeration, but go with me. This time he’s playing with everyone’s lives on the line. Taking risks of his own, pushing strategy…” Soonyoung laughs, and the sound is coarse in Jihoon’s ears, dark and bitter instead of warm and buoyant the way it should be. The way it normally is, rich and melodic and unwittingly lingering. “People sometimes joke that I can play shadow leader, but in a lot of ways I think Jeonghan-hyung is the real shadow leader. More so because most of the time we don’t notice.”

Jihoon’s mind stumbles and trips. His hand flicks out of its own accord and then he brings it crashing roughly down over his own knee, lest it attempt something stupid, like try to pat Soonyoung’s. Jihoon – he’s good at rote memorization and cartography, not words or feelings. There’s too many thoughts to untangle, and it doesn’t help that seeing Soonyoung like this in front of him, cracked open and laid bare, it leaves him even more tongue-tied.

“You alright?” Soonyoung asks, the mood changing subtly but rapidly.

He hates this. He hates this because this is exactly why he likes Soonyoung despite everything. Jihoon pretends to be annoyed by Soonyoung at all times, and questions Soonyoung’s IQ as often as he can, but truthfully, Soonyoung is perceptive and astute, intelligent and kind, and fun as long as he’s not trying to be funny. Liking people sucks. It clouds your judgement and eats at your composure, and worse still it makes you feel like shit.

“It’s—” Nothing. Everything. “I mean,” Jihoon manages, “it’s his last go of it, right? If I were him I’d really want to win too.”

“Everything seems so final this year,” Soonyoung muses.

Jihoon thinks to himself that Soonyoung doesn’t know the half of it. He doesn’t speak the thought into existence.

Jihoon hasn’t always liked Soonyoung.

In high school, he’d simply been swept up in Soonyoung’s antics, unable to extricate himself from the tour de force of Soonyoung’s eagerness, personality, you name it. Back then, he really thought of the guy as an idiot, got openly annoyed on a daily basis, but continued to ride the bus with him, eat lunch with him, join the youth games team with him. It seemed easier to go with whatever Soonyoung had in mind than to fight the current. Rebuffing Soonyoung always took enormous amounts of energy.

As far as Jihoon is concerned, during those three years he hadn’t really even liked Soonyoung as a friend.

Their relationship was borne out of circumstance, not by his own avid choosing, but Jihoon put up with him, gave in to Soonyoung’s requests, stuck by him, defended him, helped with homework, and the like. That might have been an indication of something, that they were genuinely friends, Jihoon’s feelings on the matter notwithstanding. He did his best to siphon Soonyoung off onto Wonwoo or Seokmin whenever he could but you still could have made a case for Jihoon and Soonyoung being best friends from the sheer amount of time they spent together.

It wasn’t until college that Jihoon started to think that maybe he liked Soonyoung as a person. A lot.

He made exceptions for Soonyoung despite all of Jihoon’s personal rules, and while at first Jihoon had thought it stemmed from habit, he couldn’t deny how willing he was to agree to Soonyoung’s whims, how half-hearted his protests were, or the fondness he felt when Soonyoung stirred up trouble. The way their friendship worked in high school was flipped on its head, and now, while Jihoon liked Soonyoung, they no longer saw each other every day. In fact, with time and their separate majors, the moments they spent together came only weekly, then monthly, and finally only on special occasions.

Maybe it had been a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. Whatever the case, Jihoon had woken up one day and something clicked. He wouldn’t call it a crush. He still doesn’t think of it as a crush, on days when he lets himself think about Soonyoung at all. But, perhaps, the way he sees Soonyoung – as someone he lets his guard down with – perhaps it’s even more frighteningly intimate than a crush. And to that end, the distance that grew between them helped Jihoon maintain the status quo. The recognition that things were different with Soonyoung didn’t need to change anything, and for the most part Jihoon can ignore the great lump of emotions and feelings in his chest as long as they’re apart. He just forgets.

Until games season. And every summer, it comes rushing back, like the sticky humidity and scorching hot days. You don’t really remember what that feeling is like in the dead of winter when the snow has made a mess of the streets, but when you stand in the sunlight on a muggy July day, it’s impossible to ignore that glaring bright ball in the sky.

Jihoon thinks that comparing Soonyoung to the sun is rather apt. But what do you do at the prospect of sunless summers in your future? His mother’s voice rings in his head, “Aren’t you getting too old for that glorified game of tag anyway?” Well, maybe so, but he’s just old enough to know that this glorified game of archery tag is his only lingering connection to Kwon Soonyoung, and as much as he hates the achy feeling of having his chest exposed, he probably hates the thought of losing that even more.

Day 2: 50 Players Remaining

Jihoon wakes with a start, jolted alert by the presence of someone wiggling into the cot beside his. The sun is already fully visible in the sky, but base is relatively quiet.

The person doesn’t turn out to be a threat. It’s Soonyoung, who turns onto his side, and upon seeing Jihoon with open eyes, asks sheepishly, “Did I wake you?”

“Thought you were someone coming to attack me,” Jihoon mutters, propping himself up on his elbows.

“That’s exactly what I was outside preventing,” Soonyoung says. The self-satisfied sound of his voice deserves to be wiped from his face, but he’s too far to reach and Jihoon’s too lazy. “You’re lucky you don’t have to do night guard. I hate trying to fall asleep in the daylight.”

“As if you don’t take naps in the afternoon.”

“It’s different! Anyway, are you headed out now?”

Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. He might as well go find Wonwoo and Chan now that he’s awake anyway, he supposes. “Yeah. Do you know where Wonwoo is? Wasn’t his stuff in this room too?”

“He took the blankets and kipped in the hammock outside. Still asleep when I left.” Soonyoung yawns loudly, eyes sliding closed to finish his sentence.

“Go to sleep. When you wake up you’ll have a shiny stockpile of arrows waiting.”

Soonyoung smacks his lips sleepily. “Mmm…arrows…yummy…”

It’s so stupid, but also so endearing.

Camp is eerily quiet. Those of them that are around are mostly still sleeping, and Jeonghan’s team apparently still out, with Jisoo and Seungcheol missing, probably setting up perimeter given the end of Soonyoung’s guard shift. Jihoon finds Chan first, obediently asleep where he should be, and starts him on breakfast while Jihoon goes looking for Wonwoo.

He finds Wonwoo easily, but Wonwoo isn’t alone. The hammock out isn’t very large even for someone of Jihoon’s size in the first place, but Wonwoo and Junhui have somehow managed to squeeze inside it together, limbs sticking out possibly from the heat, already apparent even this early in the morning.

“Hey,” Jihoon says, poking Wonwoo’s forehead. “Get up.”

Wonwoo makes an incomprehensible noise and bats at Jihoon’s hand so ineffectually it makes Jihoon’s defensive sensibilities want to cry. “I’m awake,” he mumbles eventually, turning away from Jihoon and stretching. One of Wonwoo’s arms hits Junhui in the face and if that didn’t wake Junhui up, the general swinging and extrication process Wonwoo attempts thereafter would have.

“Bring back lots of stuff,” Junhui mumbles quietly, eyes still closed when Wonwoo successfully stands upright.

“Yeah, yeah, you only want the pretty arrows.”

“Promise?”

“Mm.” Wonwoo makes a sort of reaching motion with his arm but at the last minute aborts the attempt, after making eye contact with Jihoon. It’s weird, but then, Wonwoo is a weird person.

“Chan’s already up. We should get a move on before it gets too hot out.”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply to that but he follows Jihoon inside and gets ready with the speed of someone who’s a practiced layabout, skipping steps other people find necessary, doing everything haphazardly. The evidence is in the dollop of unevenly applied sunscreen on his nose when Jihoon sees him again, a bag over his shoulders, and hat low over his eyes.

But Jihoon isn’t the type to comment on that kind of thing. Instead, he says, “You know we’re just going to pick up whatever we find, right?”

“Ob…viously…?”

They start walking through one of the squares that had been searched already, and this route will take them to a branching point where they’d left off the day before.

“You told Junhui you’d get ‘pretty’ arrows. He’s taking whatever he gets,” Jihoon says, deadpan.

Wonwoo snorts. “I’m not here to go out of my way to find specific items either. He just prefers colourful fletching. Enjoys playing with the feathers. It’s Junnie.”

“…Right.”

After that he leaves Wonwoo to go off on his own, drawing a path through the copied map for him. He takes Chan with him though, to keep an eye out on him, but also so that Chan can keep an eye out for anything useful while Jihoon tries to make notes on his own charts to detail what the terrain is like in each grid space. After consulting with Jeonghan’s intel, which may or may not be helpful depending on how much of their movement was at night, he’d put together a more detailed layout of the island for Soonyoung so the archery team can start on the offensive, now that the initial settling down phase is over. He’d need to draw up more maps in the afternoon so all three of them can have a copy, but that was something to think about after fanning out further.

“Hyung,” Chan calls out, standing up from his stooped position to collect a tin of biscuits.

“Hm?”

“Not to, like, get ahead of ourselves when this season’s just started, but have you four figured out who’s going to be team captain next year?”

“That’ll depend on the faculty, won’t it?” Jihoon answers noncommittally.

It’s not the first time the topic had come up. The selection was briefly mentioned during spring training, when they were still discussing tactics and how to divide the teams and use them strategically – not that there was any doubt they were going to convert to how they’d played out during high school, but it was certainly a transition from the way last year’s team had chosen to go about things, without Jeonghan or any of Jihoon’s year as subteam leaders. But Jihoon hadn’t paid particular attention to being told that they’d be assessed on performance statistics for next year. It didn’t seem relevant.

Chan snorts. “Come on. We all know they mostly let you choose amongst yourselves. Otherwise someone might have tried to nominate Jeonghan-hyung for overall leader and he’d have thrown a fit.”

“It’ll be Soonyoung, won’t it?” Jihoon tugs on the strap of his rucksack.

“Really?”

Jihoon uses his fingers to tick their names off: “Wonwoo won’t want it, Junhui definitely won’t want it...”

“Yeah, but you could do it. You’re both subteam leaders this year so you’ll both be in contention, right?”

“Me?” Jihoon trails off, noticing a quiver hanging from a nearby tree. He forgets the conversation for a moment manoeuvering over an un-cleared area to get to it, and peers inside to find 16 sleek arrows, red fletching, right up Junhui’s alley.

Chan nods approvingly at the haul and then returns Jihoon’s thoughts to the elephant in the room, or, well, forest. “So, you? Leader?”

“Soonyoung’s a better fit,” Jihoon says, and it’s true. He’s not being self-deprecating about it. Soonyoung’s observation skills and insight on all the team members keep him well-synced with the others. He knows each person’s strengths and weaknesses, how to bring the best out of people, how to fire them up when they’re down. Jihoon just does what he’s supposed to do, doesn’t know shit outside of his group, and doesn’t know that much about his group either. He’s details, map composition, defensive skills, and fight tactics while Soonyoung’s big picture, fitting pieces together, applying available knowledge to the situation. He takes a breath. “Also, I’m not competing next year.”

“What?” Chan asks, too shocked to even raise his voice.

Jihoon shrugs.

“What?” Chan asks again. “Why? How come I didn’t know this?”

“Parents,” Jihoon says, keeping things vague. “And because I haven’t actually told anyone.”

“You haven’t told anyone?!”

Jihoon doesn’t see a point. It isn’t relevant. If he says anything before the games are over, it’ll only be a distraction. Their team coaches, and the team themselves, they’d try to convince Jihoon not to, they’d think about it, they’d deliberate over it. It wasn’t something anyone could do anything about, and wasting breath or brain power on the matter would be frivolous. “I will eventually. But not now. Right now, everyone needs to keep their head in the game.”

He looks up, and Chan mimes zipping his lips.

“I won’t say anything, but I feel like the others will want to know. I mean, to hear it from you. Not just realize you’re not around when we start training again next year.”

Jihoon lifts a corner of his lips. “So sentimental.”

“Well, you get to be, with age, you know,” Channie says prudently, “especially considering how many teammates we lost before we became the group we are now.”

“Ah! Jihoonie, come here, come here,” Jeonghan calls out as soon as he spots the three of them returning to camp.

Jihoon looks longingly toward where the instant rice is stored, quite famished. They’d gathered as much as they could carry before making the trip back, trying to be as efficient as possible with their time. But it’s Jeonghan, so Jihoon waddles over and takes a seat beside him at a long makeshift table, where Jeonghan’s spread out a series of charts and point form notes for Jihoon’s inspection.

“This is what information I can give you central portion of the island. I’ll have more to say when everyone’s back closer to night time, but if you can start drawing maps for these areas now, it’ll save us time after I get back.”

“Get back?”

Jeonghan’s cheeriness drops a fraction. “We returned to base mid-morning and went to nap. When I woke up, Seungcheol’s team was moving out to replace the archery group on perimeter. But that was almost two hours ago so I think at least one of us needs to go figure out where everyone is. I’ll leave Seungkwan and Seokmin with you...and the present I put away in your room.”

If it were someone else, Jihoon would have asked if he were sure. But it’s Jeonghan, so even if he’s not sure, it doesn’t matter, Jihoon would trust Jeonghan’s intuition about things with his life. He’d learned that much from him, over the years.

Still, he says, “Stay safe,” because for their plans to go awry, something must have surely happened. He swallows, trying not to think about the archery group being delayed over an hour. That didn’t mean anything. They’d know if they were all disabled. Soonyoung is fine.

“I’ll bring back good news,” Jeonghan says, a faint smile evident while he reaches out to pat Jihoon on the head.

Jihoon internalizes the full body cringe that action brings on, and doesn’t let himself speculate too much after Jeonghan’s departure. He stands, the backs of his calves sticking to the cheap plastic chair he’d been sitting on.

“Make me food, minion,” Jihoon says, passing the kitchen.

“Sure, hyung,” Seokmin replies absently, starting to get up from one of the chairs in the common area.

“Not you,” Jihoon says quickly, staring at Wonwoo eating blankly with an expression that could kill. “Wonwoo can do it. One of you and Seungkwan might want to find a good vantage point. The other can keep an eye on the youngest.”

Wonwoo, without blinking, points at himself in question.

“Yeah you, lazy ass.” And with that said Jihoon meanders toward the sleeping area, ducking into his room with trepidation. Jeonghan’s definition of a gift isn’t always a pleasant thing, but this time around, it’s jackpot. Their spoils, the combined hard work of Jihoon and Jeonghan’s teams include: nine more small boxes of MREs, two large boxes of protein bars, and 157 arrows. Useful, if Soonyoung comes back to collect them.

The thought puts Jihoon in a weird mood, but being left alone with his maps for the rest of the afternoon after lunch distracts him into a sense of ease, enough so that he doesn’t even mind when Wonwoo dallies around for an hour-long lunch before finally heading out to with Jisoo, Seokmin, and Chan to do a back search toward the ocean, and bring back water from the well.

Despite Seungkwan’s relatively boisterous nature, camp is quiet with only him and Jihoon around. Seungkwan perches outside to keep an eye on things in the area, while Jihoon has set himself up in one of the rooms, where there’s plenty of shade, but no real air circulation even with the window open. Still, Jihoon prefers that to having his things flapping about in the breeze, and he gets lost in the work, fingers moving quickly while there’s still daylight to work under.

Jeonghan’s notes are detailed and immense and explain why they’d spent so much of the day napping. Somehow, even under darkness, they’d managed to get a good feel for a huge swath of the island, surely using the bulk of the night to be so productive, and it reinforces the sentiment Soonyoung had presented last night, about Jeonghan really wanting to win this time around.

With the western side, central area, and southern coast explored, all that remains is the direct opposite side of the island. Jihoon pauses. He’d taken Wonwoo and Chan about halfway out, trying to avoid unnecessary contact with another team. They could fight if it came to it, but that was unnecessary energy expenditure for his group, in Jihoon’s opinion. But Jeonghan’s group had gone out far. Surely they’d run into someone else while out there, even if it was nighttime when they left.

To be explained when the others got back, Jihoon supposes. He finishes the copy he’s working on and stretches, loosening the knots in his shoulders and back.

The kitchen area is expectedly deserted, and after taking a drink of water, Jihoon brings a filled canteen and a snack outside for Seungkwan, who’s probably bored out of his mind and dying of heat.

“Thanks, hyung,” Seungkwan murmurs with relief, putting down his makeshift fan from a large leaf to wipe at his brow and take a long drink of water. After a moment, when Jihoon hasn’t left yet, Seungkwan starts to speak again. “It’s so quiet.”

“Mm.”

“Jeonghan-hyung’s not careless, if he was worried about something being up, he’d be smart about it. He’s not the type to walk into a trap. But still, it’s too quiet. This was not in the plan.”

“If everything went according to plan there’d be no need to compete.”

Seungkwan snorts and looks over at Jihoon. “You really are as sardonic as Soonyoung-hyung says you are.”

Jihoon shrugs.

Seungkwan starts to say something else but they both turn their attention to the noise coming from behind them, spotting the search team with a small haul.

“Has the archery team returned?” Wonwoo asks, handing stuff off to Chan to take inside like the lazy bugger he is.

“Not yet,” Seungkwan replies shortly.

In an uncharacteristic turn, instead of going inside to take a nap, Wonwoo climbs up with them. The display of energy is offset by Wonwoo immediately lying down across Seungkwan’s legs, but it’s still strangely active for him.

“It’s gonna be a shit game if we have no archers left,” Seungkwan mutters.

Jihoon flinches thinking about playing without Soonyoung around. It’s not just strategically unfavourable, it’s personally weird. The games are played with Soonyoung, that’s code, and has been for years. Summer is Soonyoung and Soonyoung is summer. Playing without him…what’s the point?

Wonwoo tugs his hat down over his face. “They’re okay.”

“How do you know?” Seungkwan swats at Wonwoo’s belly, which Wonwoo covers protectively with his arms.

“Spidey senses.”

At this point, the sun is beginning to set, the sky awash with orange and red. On any other day, Jihoon would be looking forward to the reprieve from the heat. As it is, he sits with Wonwoo and Seungkwan, feeling restless and trying to come up with distractions to keep his thoughts from wandering toward Soonyoung over and over again. He can hear Seokmin inside, trying to keep himself busy in the kitchen.

All of them are on edge. And Jihoon realizes they can’t just sit here forever, nor can they keep sending out people to scout out one-by-one. Out of the ones still at camp he’s probably got the senior-most rank, even if Jisoo is older. “If they’re not back by the time it’s completely dark, we’re going to have to talk about what we’re going to do,” he says.

Wonwoo actually makes the effort to lift off his hat so Jihoon can see his glare, not that it’s very different from his usual expression.

“Shut up,” Seungkwan says, slapping at both of them, getting Wonwoo to sit up quickly and squint. “Look.”

Over the horizon, they can see figures walking through the forest, but it’s dark, the people are far away, and the abundance of flora provides ample cover. “Can either of you tell who it is?” Jihoon asks.

“Junhui’s there,” Wonwoo declares confidently.

“How do you know?!” Seungkwan asks, not for the first time this evening.

Wonwoo’s already standing up and making himself an easy target if whoever it is foe instead of friend. “Trust me,” he says, standing with one hand on his waist, the other hanging at his side without any worry.

Jihoon pulls Seungkwan down with him, trying to get away from the spot in case Wonwoo’s wrong. But then, Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s faces become visible, and Jihoon loses track of Wonwoo entirely. He very deliberately speed walks in the direction of the others and does not run but somehow finds himself with someone’s arms around his shoulders in a sort of group huddle.

“Where on earth were all of you?” Seungkwan’s asking viciously, quickly finding his way beside Jeonghan.

“First aid first, I think,” Seungcheol says, sounding tired but sporting a smile on his face.

“And food,” Mingyu says. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“We can get dinner started at the same time,” Seungcheol agrees easily. “We’ll have night meeting after eating so no one misses that.”

No one’s badly hurt, but the next time Jihoon sees Wonwoo, it’s to find him looking even more grave than usual next to Junhui, who’s bearing a long scratch on his right arm, but instead of looking in pain, seems to be trying to placate Wonwoo.

The others, too, are bearing some scrapes and bruises. Soonyoung’s using one hand to hold his hair back from his face, and there’s marks along his temple, as if he’d had a run in with a tree.

Jisoo brings out the first aid kits quickly, and those of them who weren’t hurt get working on disinfecting and bandages. Jihoon has the foresight to find an elastic to tie back Soonyoung’s hair somewhat so he doesn’t have to keep pulling at it.

“What harebrained scheme did you get up to today?” Jihoon mutters. He rips open the packet of a disinfecting wipe and cleans the broken skin without letting Soonyoung pull away from the stinging sensation, although he does feel a twinge in his chest.

“It wasn’t a scheme! It just…happened!” Soonyoung protests loudly.

Jihoon grits his teeth and rummages around for gauze. “What happened?”

“Whoever was the team on the southeastern side sent out a scouting team into our quadrant but got frozen by Soonyoung’s team on perimeter,” Seungcheol says tiredly. “Didn’t recognize them, but we took the four of them out.”

“It took ages though, because we were separated and I only had six arrows and wasn’t sure I could hit them all fast enough before they could fire back. Luckily Mingyu had already found me but he had to sprint back, get Hansol and Junhui, and tell the others. It was a mess but eventually we got it done, Hansol and I were headed back, Junhui was staying with Mingyu in case anyone else came and he had the most arrows left out of us. And then Jeonghan came running—”

“—He found us first,” Mingyu interjects. “And by that point, I don’t know if it was because they were changing guard or if it was for the same reason as why Jeonghan came looking for us, their scouts had been gone too long, anyway, their archery team showed up and Junhui-hyung and I had to decide fast. I thought he might as well risk it, even on five arrows from distance, and he got two of them before the third one high-tailed it back where he came from.”

“So they sent Jeonghan to fetch us for arrows again and we doubled back while Jeonghan-hyung went looking for Minghao and Seungcheol.”

“Six members of their team were eliminated at that point and there were seven of us. We had a good chance of finishing the whole team before the end of the day,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly.

Seungcheol wipes his brow. “They really came at us full force. But we got lucky and Soonyoung took out their medic so they were kind of screwed. After that, Jeonghan noticed the archer running away again, figured he was their mark, ran after him like a madman, and, tok,” Seungcheol makes a clicking noise with his tongue while jabbing his thumb behind him. “Game over for them.”

“It’s like Minghao was saying,” Jeonghan says, “Playing mark isn’t just about not getting eliminated…it’s about making it seem like you’re not mark.”

“It took forever though,” Soonyoung whines, sticking his neck out and crowding into Jihoon’s face, “and I’m exhausted.”

Jihoon turns away, unwilling to be lost in the earnestness behind those eyes.

“Wore all of us out so I figured we should all come back, perimeter be damned.”

“The sun’s setting anyway, no one’s going to try anything too crazy,” Minghao points out.

Mingyu makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Unless they have a Jeonghan on their team too.”

Jeonghan smiles serenely, taking the comment as a compliment. “We found out a lot last night.”

“Can it wait until after dinner?” Seungcheol asks.

“Fine~” Jeonghan agrees,“an after dinner treat!”

Seokmin acts as head “chef” for the night, doling out prepared MREs to everyone after the initial furor has died down. He and Seungkwan do the part of congratulations and praise for the rest of them. It’s not like Jihoon doesn’t think their offensive teams did well, but it’s awkward voicing any accolades, and also, eliminating other players is kind of in their job descriptions.

Rather than actively lauding him, Jihoon sits with his meal beside Soonyoung and lets him describe his exploits in vivid detail, complete with sound effects and arm waving, the stories being repeated and perhaps elaborated with each successive retelling as different people join them and leave to find others. He indulges a smile at Soonyoung’s chutzpah and hides a laugh into his rice as the events come to sound more and more dramatic. That’s not him, but it’s a bit of him, as the colloquialism goes.

When he finishes eating, Jihoon starts doing a head count. Minghao, Mingyu, and Seungkwan have perched outside again; Minghao’s not the type to let them all let their guards down too easily. Soonyoung’s busy recounting his story to Seokmin and Hansol, even though the latter likely knows exactly when something is exaggerated. Seungcheol and Jisoo have started a separate conversation nearby, although Seungcheol looks a bit like he’s head’s not really in it, probably doing a headcount of his own, or multiple really. In a corner, Jeonghan’s sitting cross legged while gesticulating avidly to Chan about something. That makes Jihoon wonder where his other minion is, and after turning his head around in both directions, he finally spots Wonwoo on the floor, taking a drink of water. He’s with Junhui, but, well, it’s hard to explain. Neither of them are speaking, or even looking at each other actually, and on first glance you’d probably think they were just navigating individual spaces. But it’s also hard not to see them as a unit for some reason, and it has nothing to do with the fact that they’re just close together and far from everyone else. There’s something in sync about them, operating as a unit instead of independently despite not outwardly interacting at all. It’s kind of creepy.

There’s a nudge at Jihoon’s knee, and he looks up to see Soonyoung peering at him, apparently stopped for the present in regaling audiences with his exciting tales and feats of bravery.

“What is it?” Soonyoung asks, blinking slowly.

Jihoon suddenly clocks their proximity, Soonyoung’s pointy chin and the openness in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” Jihoon asks, pushing at him lightly.

Soonyoung doesn’t take the opening to feign outrage, just rights himself and looks in the direction Jihoon had been looking moments earlier. “Wonder how long it’ll take them.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Please tell me your team was productive this morning because we’re entirely out of arrows now.”

Jihoon wolfs down the last of his rice. “It’s all inside,” he says, whilst chewing, “a pretty big haul.”

“You’re going to need it,” Jeonghan says, coming up behind them. “Seungcheol, let’s have the meeting now.”

The thirteen of them gather around Jeonghan and the map he’s spread out over the table. It’s a tight squeeze as is, and Jihoon’s not tall enough to peer over someone like Kim Mingyu’s shoulder, so he hangs back. He’ll ask Jeonghan for the particulars later so the two of them can make any necessary additions to the maps Jihoon’s been working on as necessary.

“The first thing is, yesterday we ran into Minhyuk’s team. They’ve occupied the northwest camp.”

“Alliance?” Soonyoung asks quickly. Most of the friends with at least one or two of the players from that school.

“Well…an understanding, maybe.” Jeonghan makes a face. “Neither of us came out of the brush in eliminated. But…”

It’s a shame, really, Jihoon thinks. Changkyun’s team is good enough to make the city finals, but they’ll be out by the end of this round since they drew the same first match. And Jihoon’s team was going to win, obviously.

“We’re lucky it was the southeastern side we found or we’d end up having to fight on two fronts, which is what their team is going to have to do now,” Jeonghan says. “But they have an advantage.” He points out a location on the map. “We searched every nook and cranny of the central part of the island last night. There’s a spot that’s technically in their quadrant which is the absolute high ground. If you have a few archers up there, everyone is easy pickings.”

“Do they know?”

“I’m not sure. But they’re not stupid, if they find it they’ll use it. We’re on the clock.”

Seungcheol crosses his arms and frowns. “Not just about this. Tomorrow morning, as early as you can wake up really, Jihoon you should take your team to southeast camp. See if there’s anything they found that can be helpful. That’s the only thing that made me hesitate on whether or not we should come back immediately, but no one had the energy to keep going anymore.”

“If someone else has found out that their team’s been eliminated?”

“I’m sure you can be discreet. If there’s someone there already, fall back.”

Minghao raises a hand. “I’ll go with them. On the chance there’s a team there already it’ll be extra protection for Chan. Even if it’s safe, we’ll need someone in that area keeping an eye on things in case someone decides to take the long way round.”

“Fine. Seokmin and Seungkwan can do night guard because we’ll need the archers to rotate shifts in the day time. I can take the first archer in the morning and maybe borrow Mingyu just in case, if that’s okay,” Jeonghan says looking at Seungcheol without really sounding like he’s asking for permission. “You can have him back if all goes well…or if all goes to shit and we have to abandon this plan and think of something else.”

“I’ll take midpoint,” Seungcheol says, nodding. “Mingyu can come find me after.”

“Well, it’ll take a while. He’ll have to stay with whoever’s first archer when I grab the second for rotation.”

Seungcheol stares at Jeonghan for a moment. After a few awkward seconds of silence, he starts laughing and punches Jeonghan in the shoulder. “Go ahead and just take him for the whole day then.”

“I have a question,” Jisoo says. He’s one of the few of them who’s sitting and Jihoon can hear his voice but can’t see him through the crowd. “Are we leaving anyone from one of the attacking subteams at camp? It wasn’t really a concern on the first day but it would suck if we got raided now while the rest of you were off trying to make new conquests elsewhere, since now we actually have food and supplies.”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Jeonghan says.

Seungcheol ponders for a moment. “Only a maximum two archers will be out at any one time right? Whoever’s left can keep watch. I’ll leave that to Soonyoung to figure out.”

Soonyoung nods, his eyes focused on something in the distance, likely already trying to think about how best to balance priorities and make assignments.

“That’s tomorrow’s plan then. We’ll have another meeting after sunset depending on how things go for the next day. Any questions?”

There’s a collective uptick in noise as people start to chip in some thoughts and discuss with each other while Seungcheol deals with individual matters. There’s a flurry of furious whispering somewhere to Jihoon’s right that he ignores in favour of sidling up to Jeonghan to get a closer look at his map.

“Okay, if that’s all—”

The frantic whispering doesn’t stop and Seungcheol clears his throat.

“Are you two done?”

“Sorry,” Junhui says immediately.

Jihoon turns to him with some curiosity, but gets drawn back by Seungcheol asking for his inventory report.

After circling the point Jeonghan spoke about on his existing copies of the map and handing them out to the archery team, it’s dark enough that Jihoon could consider sleeping, but too early for him to fall asleep. If it were light out he’d work on the other maps, partially for completion’s sake, but also because he believes in having the whole team on the same page even if not everyone will use all the information. But Jihoon hates working by the light of their battery-powered lanterns and he’s certainly not going to see anything from the light reflected off the moon. He ends up tossing himself onto a lounge chair in the common area, hoping if he does nothing for long enough he’ll eventually feel sleepy.

The atmosphere around base camp feels light. Jihoon attributes it to the sense of unease they’d harboured all day being finally lifted. The sense of self-congratulation lingers, bestowing upon them a mood more reminiscent of a summer camp holiday than a summer athletics contest. There’s a lot of chatter, Seungkwan’s started referring a game of makeshift darts between Mingyu and Minghao while Junhui watches, all that’s missing is the beer and soju to make this feel like a MT.

“Something’s up,” Soonyoung says quietly, throwing himself into the chair beside Jihoon’s.

Jihoon gives him a questioning look.

“Between Wonwoo and Junhui. They’re not sitting together.”

“Are they…supposed to be?”

“Duh. Think about it, when, other than if they’re supposed to be doing something mission related, have you ever seen those two more than a foot apart?”

“Loads of times…Wonwoo and I play Overwatch together and Junhui’s in my accounting lecture.”

Soonyoung shakes his head. “No, I mean on the island, or in the summer, whenever we’re playing the game.”

Jihoon thinks about it. He thinks about finding Wonwoo and Junhui tangled together in the hammock outdoors a day prior and tilts his head.

“I think because we’re competing and hyped up on adrenaline it makes people more emotional or something, changes a lot of us. Like, Mingyu and Minghao are always bickering but only when we’re competing do you ever get a situation where they’re completely ignoring each other. Or when Seokmin and Jeonghan started lashing out at each other over a misunderstanding, remember that? I don’t know if it’s because we get worried about each other or what but you kind of see changes...”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re saying Junhui and Wonwoo are like Mingyu and Minghao?”

“Not…exactly…” Soonyoung trails off. “You know when we first met, I don’t think they ever talked to each other. Do you remember them ever talking to each other?”

“Not really. We were close to Wonwoo, Junhui was closer to Jeonghan.”

“Right? But the thing is now it’s not weird to see Wonwoo and Junhui interact. And the thing is, it really doesn’t seem like they’re best buds the way some of the others on the team are, but then they’ll randomly say things about each other – not exactly like they’ve had long deep conversations, but just like they’ve spent time together? And observed each other?”

The theory fits with what Jihoon knows, anyway. Like that whole conversation about the colour of arrow fletching they had.

“I just…kind of think they’re headed toward, like…I dunno, marriage for lack of a better way to put it.”

“Marriage?!”

“I know it’s not that believable to think they fancy each other but I just have a sense for these things.” At Soonyoung’s words, Jihoon feels his stomach drop. “Like, I know Mingyu has a crush on Minghao’s ex-ex-girlfriend but feels too awkward about the situation to do anything, and that Jeonghan’s still pining after that guy Seokmin told us about when he was drunk and not supposed to share Jeonghan’s life stories.” Soonyoung laughs. “I predicted that Channie would ask his current girlfriend out and she’d accept after only meeting her once, you know.”

The thing is, Jihoon can kind of see it. Now that Soonyoung’s said it, anyway, the funky arm movement Jihoon had written off as just Wonwoo being weird reminds him eerily of the times when Jihoon himself suppresses an urge to ruffle Soonyoung’s hair at times. The realization sets him off-balance and majorly uncomfortable.

But more unsettling than that is the idea that Soonyoung knows all these things and has a sense for all their friends’ romantic endeavours but hasn’t once mentioned anything about Jihoon. As if Jihoon doesn’t exist. Why could Soonyoung see everything like that but when it comes to Jihoon’s feelings…

Soonyoung takes Jihoon’s silence as disbelief. “I’m serious! I know everything about everyone here. Trust me.”

That’s a gutting sort of thing to hear from someone who once might have been your best friend, now was the only person you thought you could let your guard down to, but has never once broached the topic with you.

In what should be a joke, Jihoon says, “You don’t know anything about me, Kwon Soonyoung.”. It should come out goading, light-hearted teasing, the same way Jihoon prods at Soonyoung all the time. Instead, he feels bitter, and the taste of the sentiment lingers unpleasantly in his mouth.

The unexpectedly negative sentiment seems to catch Soonyoung off guard too, leading to a sort of doe-eyed blinking that Jihoon wants to swallow whole. Why is it cute. Why won’t Jihoon’s feelings for this stupidly perceptive but also incredibly thick boy leave him alone. He stands roughly without clearing the air between them, and turns to leave.

With everyone else still out enjoying some free time, he’s relatively undisturbed washing up and heading to bed, alone to stew in his thoughts.

Unfair. That’s the only word Jihoon thinks of to describe it. It’s unfair that Soonyoung can look at all the people around him, and not just see what’s offered on the surface, but see into them. To know them, and to perceive their thoughts and feelings.

But not see Jihoon, not know Jihoon’s feelings.

How could Soonyoung say that he knows everything about everyone but not this? Is he blind to himself? Unaware of his own surroundings because he’s too busy looking at everyone else’s? Jihoon can’t get rid of the bitterness, nor can he ignore the hurt.

‘Just once, look at me,’ Jihoon wants to say, ‘Look at me and see me. Notice me. Pay attention to me.’ He’s never said that to anyone else before, and he’s not sure how to start now.

Day 3: 37 Players Remaining

Jihoon wakes up while it’s still dark outside, the alarm apparently not bothering the other occupants of the room, of which there are two today. But that might be even weirder than only finding Soonyoung asleep beside him the morning prior, because Junhui’s in the far bed but Wonwoo’s cot is empty. And now he has to track down his teammate again.

He doesn’t have to go far before he runs into Minghao first, who scares the hell out Jihoon by popping up out of nowhere all of a sudden, although Jihoon tries his best to play it cool and act unsurprised.

“I woke Chan up already,” Minghao tells him, voice quiet this early in the morning. “Is Wonwoo with you?”

“Not in our room. Gonna look for him.” Jihoon’s brain is only capable of parsing out short sentences this early in the morning, and he leaves Minghao to put together some breakfast for the four of them while he goes off in search of Wonwoo.

Wonwoo is in a right mood.

He’s in a mood when Jihoon wakes him after finally finding Wonwoo asleep in the cot outside, taking out his anger at having his sleep cut short by grouching at Jihoon. He looks livid all throughout breakfast, and when they set off in the direction of the other camp, he breathes out heavily through his nose at the slightest inconvenience. There’s a moment when Chan nearly gets bowled over by a tree branch and stops in the middle of the path, blocking Wonwoo’s way, and Jihoon thinks that he might have to deal with their entire team getting disabled by someone on the team itself.

Minghao notices. Jihoon knows Minghao notices not only because Minghao is smart, one of their brightest, but because Minghao keeps rolling his eyes every time Wonwoo does something dramatic. They make eye contact and Minghao shakes his head a little, although Jihoon’s not sure if that’s to indicate he doesn’t know the reasoning behind Wonwoo’s tantrum or if now isn’t a good time to talk about it.

Jihoon supposes it doesn’t matter which one it is, because both mean they’re staying mum on the subject for now. It’s annoying, but Wonwoo’s also kind of lazy and easy to tire, so Jihoon figures he’ll eventually mellow out without their intervention and talk to him then, when he’s in a more rational frame of mind.

“Minghao, why don’t you take Chan with you to do a walk around? Wonwoo and I’ll see if there’s anything inside.”

Both locations are kind of risky. The perimeter is open to outside attack, but indoors there’s the possibility of an ambush. Jihoon figures the likelihood of successful escape is a bit better with Minghao and the forest so he sends Chan off that way. On the other hand, the likelihood of finding anything useful is higher inside, so he chooses that route for himself, but it does leave him with an agitated Wonwoo to deal with.

After securing the interior of the camp and checking that no one pops out from behind a door to surprise them, they start a more thorough sweep, checking for anything useful – a notebook, supplies, scribbled on maps – beginning from the sleeping quarters.

“So, how should we do this?”

Wonwoo blinks. “Back to front…?” He trails off, staring at Jihoon like he’s an idiot.

Jihoon crosses his arms. “Obviously. I mean, are you going to tell me what’s got you in such a mood the easy way, or am I going to have to drag it out of you question by question until you get sick of the needling and tell me everything anyway?”

This is, once again, Soonyoung’s domain. Jihoon’s not the feelings guy, but Soonyoung’s not here, and as it is Jihoon’s properly annoyed at Soonyoung’s perceptiveness right now so, with more agitation this time, Jihoon asks, “Well…which one’s it gonna be?”

Without replying, Wonwoo bristles and heads into the first room, which is about as much stomping away from a conversation as it gets with that one. Jihoon hates doing things the hard way, he really does. He follows after Wonwoo knowing it’ll be faster if they split up and lets Wonwoo throw around a few things in anger before opening his mouth.

“I’m fine.” Wonwoo says, before Jihoon gets a chance. “Just let me be annoyed for the day, Hoon-ah, so I can take out my frustrations on something.”

Jihoon closes his mouth. He looks at the back of Wonwoo’s head for a moment, and Wonwoo shuffles stuff around without turning. After a few moments, Jihoon sighs and heads into the next room over.

By the time they’re in the kitchen area, stacking boxes together after searching the smaller rooms individually, Wonwoo’s movements are no longer charged with destructive energy and he’s back to the somewhat lethargic human Jihoon knows well. They discover boxes of food and water, and a stockpile of arrows, untouched. It’s too much stuff to carry all the way back to their own camp without it potentially becoming a burden. The food they can leave here without too much concern, but the arrows…

“I know it’s just a game,” Wonwoo says roughly, dropping a box of digestive cookies onto a stack of other things to be disposed. “But people get hurt all the time. It can be dangerous. Being careful is simply prudent. Even Seungcheol-hyung broke his arm once and it ended…”

An ugly silence hangs between them for a moment, both considering that run. “…Right,” Jihoon says tentatively, trying to prod Wonwoo along without being too pushy.

Wonwoo apparently doesn’t even notice Jihoon’s interjection. He’s just glaring at the wall at this point. “I don’t know how Junhui can forget that. He just thinks he’s invincible because he’s good at what he does, sure, but far range doesn’t mean you’re invulnerable. He’s a fucking dumbass.”

“Yes, of course…” Jihoon, internally irritated, marks a +1 score under Soonyoung’s name in his head for reading the situation right, the stupidly perceptive prick. “Did you and him have a row last night…?”

“No! He was just being a complete imbecile. I don’t have time to deal with people that idiotic, obviously.”

“Right,” Jihoon says neutrally, hoping Wonwoo doesn’t notice him backing up. “You have a lot to do. Like figure out what we’re going to do with these arrows so someone doesn’t end up using them against us.”

He lets Wonwoo stew on their problem for a while, but it’s clear that Wonwoo is silently fuming about something completely unrelated. Jihoon almost feels bad for rekindling the anger.

In the end, Minghao comes up with the solution. “We can bring back some of them, even without a quiver.” He shrugs. “Worse case I’ll throw them…like playing giant darts.”

Only Chan laughs at this joke.

“But we’ll just destroy the others so no one else can use them. Are you planning on carrying any of the food back?”

“Two of the small boxes of the MREs. It’s a long walk and seems silly to risk taking something heavy when we’re well stocked already.”

Minghao nods and heads outside with as many of the arrows as he can carry. They take turns hacking at them with the axe that’s meant to cut firewood, sawing as many of them in half as they can. On one hand, it’ll make it obvious that someone had raided the camp, but on the other, it prevents that piece of information from really becoming useful to any of the other teams.

By the time they leave, the sun has fully risen, shining brightly overhead. It’s hard to tell time in the forest, and Jihoon feels it should be at least midafternoon because of how long they’ve been awake, even though he knows it must still be early yet. Still, it’s quiet amongst the trees, quiet enough they can hear their own breathing.

“Shit,” Minghao says suddenly, though not slowing the pace. “We’re being followed.”

“What?”

Minghao doesn’t explain. “Listen, drop that crap and on my mark, run. Don’t stop. I’m going to try to divert them to Seungcheol, Mingyu if I can outrun them that long. If they follow you I’ll chase but you know what the priority is.” And then without any time for questions, he says, “Go!” And Chan takes off.

Wonwoo at least has some good sense in an emergency situation and pushes Jihoon ahead to the front so Chan doesn’t run headfirst into any traps by taking lead. Wonwoo himself follows close behind the two of them in rear defense.

Splitting up isn’t ideal but it’s better than leading someone straight to their camp, and Minghao has a better handle on numbers and these sorts of things better than Jihoon anyway. Jihoon doesn’t think, doesn’t turn back, just runs as fast as he can, concentrating on the path in front of him and Channie’s steady breathing behind. It’s a run on pure adrenaline, like their lives depend on it, and survival in the game really does. Potentially the survival of the entire team. This was of course a risk they’d considered, and why Minghao had joined them after all, but Jihoon rather believed that having more of a skirmish away from this part of the island would have been enough to draw away any chance of them being attacked. Evidently not. Their belief that no one else would know that the southeast team had been eliminated paid off, but in the end, they’d return with nothing given that the supplies they’d been carried were offloaded, and that the team really had almost no intel. Jeonghan’s recon mission had been vastly superior. Still, it’s too late to have regrets. Jihoon’s thoughts move quickly, too quickly to grasp onto and hold down, especially not when his focus is on controlling his breathing, not tripping over anything, and making sure that Chan is still behind him.

“Tired?” Jihoon calls, not turning behind him to look.

“Not yet,” comes Chan’s determined reply.

They’re close enough to camp that Jihoon thinks it makes sense to start on a detour, twisting and turning along paths he’d memorized from copying out the island maps over and over again. His brain manipulates north and south easily, spinning the charts in his mind until they’re overlaid on top of the path in front of him, directions and geography slotting together without having to contemplate for long. He takes a left, and then another, followed by a right, and like that they zig-zag through the edge of the forest, hugging the coast, until they wrap back around and burst out into the clearing ahead of camp from the side.

“You two still with me?” Jihoon asks through heavy panting.

“Yes captain!” Chan says. It’s his first test as mark, and they’ve passed.

“We weren’t followed, as far as I could tell,” Wonwoo says, doubled over, gulping in deep breaths.

That’s when Jihoon notices. “Wonwoo, your—”

Wonwoo’s entire left side of his body is covered in blood. Jisoo comes bustling out with first aid supplies, Hansol in tow, and together they’re all helped inside, asking questions in hushed voices while Seungkwan and Seokmin sleep on. After a quick examination, it’s not as bad as Jihoon had thought, seeing him earlier. He himself has a few welts on his shins, Channie is shaken but otherwise unhurt, and Wonwoo…

“I kept looking back to check at the beginning,” he explains, grimacing while Jisoo tries to hold him still to clean at all the torn skin over his ear. There’s several scrapes along his arm too which have been temporarily covered by a damp towel. “Didn’t see ahead of me, ran into a tree…stopped looking back after that.”

“Stupid,” Jihoon says, standing with his arms crossed.

“At least you’re alright,” Jisoo says a bit more diplomatically. “Lunch and rest. I don’t think any of you slept that much in the first-place night and you’re probably even more exhausted now.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” Wonwoo whines, even as Channie obediently rises to follow Jisoo to the kitchen area.

“Rest here then,” Jihoon says roughly. “I’ll keep an eye out on you while I finish the maps.”

“If everything’s alright here I’m going back on guard duty,” Hansol murmurs. “We don’t know who else might have sent scouts.”

“You probably shouldn’t have come inside with us,” Wonwoo says, sounding awfully tired. “In case someone did follow us and I just didn’t notice.”

“I had a higher vantage point when you guys showed up—”

“—He doesn’t mean it, Hansol,” Jihoon says. He thinks he sounds the same as normal but he feels even more tired than Wonwoo sounds. “You can go. I’ll bring out lunch.”

Jihoon grabs food for Hansol and Wonwoo both and gives Wonwoo a glare when he tries to pout and guilt Jihoon into feeding him, or something, the crafty little bugger. It’s his left arm. Wonwoo is right handed. He’s not falling for that trick, even if he will take his trash for him afterward, returning to an empty kitchen with everyone either outside or asleep.

“So,” Jihoon says, calmly as you do after settling back down in the common area with his maps spread across the table. “You’re angry Junhui volunteered to take point.”

“I took things out on Hansollie just now, didn’t I?” Wonwoo asks quietly, eyes closed.

“He can guess why, he’s not obtuse. You can apologize after this conversation, hardass.”

“Ugh.” Wonwoo gripes. “Don’t lay into me. It’s not like you’re not worried about Soonyoung.”

“I— I what?”

“Anyway, moving on, so, what were you talking about with Channie yesterday?”

Jihoon’s nearly gotten whiplash at how quickly the topic of conversation has just changed in three or so seconds.

“What?”

“He didn’t tell me, by the way. Kept your secret. But I kinda overheard the part where he said he would keep things a secret so…now’s your chance to reveal what that secret is.”

Jihoon puts down his sketching pencil. “For Chrissakes.”

“Mm…go on. No one’s present but me presently.” Wonwoo grins. “Keep your team in the loop and all that.”

Jihoon drops his head in his hands. “Not competing next year, non-negotiable involves parents, haven’t told anyone yet so keep your trap shut,” Jihoon lists off quickly, ticking his fingers one by one as he goes.

“Not even Soon?” Wonwoo asks curiously.

Jihoon shakes his head. “Definitely not him. He’d waste too much time trying to get me to stay when the choice has nothing to do with me and it’ll distract him from more productive things, like winning.”

“He’s more mature than that, give him some credit, Hoon-ah. When he wants to be, he can even internalize.” Wonwoo laughs to himself. “But more importantly…he’s going to need to think about how to shift personnel around for teams next year. Change back to a more traditional three team roster probably since Jeonghan-hyung’s not around anymore, and eliminate having a team dedicated to scouting and supplies. Everyone’s rubbish at maps compared to you anyway.”

“Well, he’s not going to be thinking about that while trying to shoot at a moving target so it can wait until after the tournaments are over.”

“You will tell him then? And not just leave him at it to figure out that you’re gone next year?”

“Eh. He’d survive either way.”

Wonwoo fixes Jihoon with a piercing look then.

“No, you’re right, he’s weak and puny.”

“You only say mean things about people you like, Jihoon. You’re too polite to say that kind of stuff to others.”

Jihoon looks away, squirming. “I don’t know Jeon, when I call you an idiot, I really do just mean that you’re an idiot. You’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you believe otherwise.”

“Who’s an idiot?” The interruption comes bright and cheery from Junhui, slinging his bow off his shoulder as he enters. The chipper expression on his face, down to the light in his eyes, seems to diminish on sight of Wonwoo sitting there and he half turns, ready to make a speedy exit.

And then Junhui notices.

There’s a whirlwind of motion, Junhui says something but it’s too fast to catch, and then he’s suddenly beside Wonwoo, squatting in front of him, one hand on Wonwoo’s neck, under the ear Wonwoo had scratched up from his own idiocy, and Junhui just looks at Wonwoo so tenderly that Jihoon has to look away.

It’s too private. It’s so intimate it’s painful to Jihoon, who doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything with that much intensity, much less looked at someone that way. It’s not even that it’s uncomfortable because he’s seeing his friends in such a quiet moment. Soonyoung had used the right terminology to describe it. It was like they were headed straight to marriage, without stopping at anything trivial like friends or best friends, not even really passing dating. Just. Stuck together until the end of time, softly inseparable, before you even notice it.

His stomach doesn’t even churn out jealousy at it, unable to envy something that requires so much vulnerability and mutual understanding and general closeness. It’s unfathomable to him. Jihoon tries to shuffle his papers together as unobtrusively as possible but there’s a rather large part of him that thinks he could start playing Sousa on his clarinet right now and the two of them wouldn’t even notice.

In the midst of getting himself sorted, Jihoon accidentally glances back to see the two of them again, Wonwoo’s eyes closed, leaning into Junhui like the pain will go away the more parts of them are touching. Jihoon turns away again and beats a hasty retreat.

After all 13 copy maps are finished, Jihoon’s thirsty, exhausted, and too tired from all the work to think about anything. He gets up to go off in search of water, finding the common area dead silent.

Jihoon pours some water into his canteen and caps both his bottle and the pitcher, careful not to waste any. He doesn’t take a drink of water until he’s sat down on one of the chairs in the common area, and only after he sits down, does he notice the other person, lying down on a recliner.

“Junhui? Still here?”

For a moment Junhui doesn’t reply, chewing and swallowing down the mouthful of granola bar he’d bit into just before Jihoon settled down. With his eyes still closed, he eventually whines, “’M… it’s really hot today…”

“Hmm.” Jihoon takes another drink of water. “I’m just surprised to see you without Wonwoo nearby.”

Junhui frowns and peeks one eye open to look at Jihoon before closing it again. “Why would Wonwoo be nearby?”

All Jihoon can do is stare, but since Junhui isn’t looking back at him, he can’t convey much in the look he gives him. “You two were,” Jihoon says slowly, “uh.” He was going to say ‘talking’ but they weren’t exactly talking so much as just…being together.

“He’s sleeping,” Junhui says eventually. “But I said he shouldn’t bother you so he went to nap in a different room.”

“Have you two made up then?”

“Made up?”

“I don’t know…didn’t you get into a fight about something?”

Junhui laughs. Once he starts, it’s like he can’t stop, a low rumble that just tumbles and tumbles from Junhui’s lips even though Jihoon can’t quite understand the humour. And then, after he stops laughing, he doesn’t say anything for a while. Finally, in a quiet tone: “We were really worried you know.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah,” Junhui says, “Me and Soonyoung. Jeonghan heard from Minghao before getting back about you being chased.”

Jihoon blinks. “Well we were fine. Does that mean Minghao handled it?”

“There were only two of them following him, I think,” Junhui says, “so he and team leader just waited together and eliminated them. Not too hard.”

“You…worried about us…” Jihoon trails off. “And to think Wonwoo was stormy all day because he was worried about you.”

“He wasn’t…” Junhui trails off, turning his head and running a hand through his hair. “After I saw him hurt I understood better where he was coming from. It’s not nice to see anyone injured, and it’s not like I’ve forgotten high school. But Wonwoo…he thinks everything will be okay as long as everything goes the way he wants. Like he knows what’s best for all of us. But I’m my own person too, you know, and it’s not fair to either of us when he’s like that.”

Jihoon shakes his head, not entirely apprised of the situation, but pretty sure he’s seen what he’s seen in Wonwoo. “I was with him all day, Jun-ah, I don’t think it was out of a place of wanting control.” He swallows thickly, and instead of thinking about Wonwoo or Junhui he’s thinking about himself and Soonyoung. “I think he genuinely cares. I think it scares him that you’ll be separated, more than he cares to admit. But I think he’s also scared of that fear, that it might mean something to be so worried.”

“Ah…” Junhui lets the conversation hang between them for long enough that Jihoon thinks he must have fallen asleep. But he continues, “Hmm…Jihoonie, are you sure you’re not projecting your feelings about Soonyoung?”

“What on earth,” Jihoon phrases it like a statement, not a question, even though he’s been caught in the act.

“Actually!” Junhui says, sitting up and showing renewed vigour, seemingly as if his midafternoon snack has suddenly replenished his energy levels, “I think Soonyoung is the same way! He always wants to get back to camp as fast as possible.”

This time, when Jihoon glares at him, Junhui sees it clearly. But all he does is smile serenely back at him.

“You know,” Junhui says quietly, but with clear and bright eyes, “I really think you should tell him soon. Before we all graduate and drift apart and it might be too late. And I think it has to be you because…well, I don’t mean this in a bad way Jihoonie, but you’re you and he’s him.”

Jihoon scoffs and turns away, cheeks hot. “Tell him what? That he’s a loser?”

“Jihoon-ah…” Junhui says, suddenly sounding almost sad. “I’m not joking. You know what I mean. Do you think he hangs around you all the time because he’s actually that interested in maps? Come on, there’s a reason why you two are always in the same room together, why you’re always hovering over each other’s shoulders, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re in charge of your groups.”

“We’re not always in the same room together,” Jihoon replies quickly, a knee-jerk reaction. And then, frustrated that he’s given in to Junhui so easily, he grabs at his hair, holding the back of his head. He bites down on his lower lip with some agitation, and releases it again, looking up at Junhui with annoyance. “It’s not like that. If everything were that easy…We’re not like you and Wonwoo, okay?”

“Huh? What do me and Wonwoo have to do with anything?”

“Exactly! Soonyoung and I might spend time together but it’s just because we’re friends and we have to work together…It’s not the same reason why you and Wonwoo are always together. Soonyoung just…he just has to be. It’s not because he wants to be. He’s not like Wonwoo, who’s clearly in love with you.”

Junhui stares at Jihoon. Then he bursts into laughter. And then he stops laughing at looks at Jihoon like Jihoon’s grown a second head, even though Jihoon’s the one who feels like Junhui’s grown a second head, always with this misplaced giggling. “Wonwoo’s not in love with me, Jihoon-ah.”

And in turn, Jihoon stares at Junhui and starts laughing. “Wonwoo is so in love with you he might as well write it in our daily logbooks. Day 321: still in love with Moon Junhwi.”

“No, Jihoon, he doesn’t.” Junhui smiles, but there’s a sort of pained expression in his eyes, and his smile is sadder than it is happy. “Maybe he thinks he does. Or maybe he thinks he should? But he doesn’t actually feel that way. What I’m saying is…you’re right, we’re not the same. You and Soonyoung, compared to me and Wonwoo. I wish things were the same. But in your case, Soonyoungie really does return your feelings, but I don’t think he’ll ever bring them up first.”

“You’re wrong—” Jihoon starts to say, but cuts himself off when who else but Soonyoung should walk through the main entrance.

Junhui stands quickly, brushing off granola crumbs from his cargos. “Captain!” Junhui mock salutes, laughing when Soonyoung shoves lightly at him. “I’ll go find Hansol and leave you two to discuss your important leadership business then~” Junhui says, before skipping off and leaving Jihoon and Soonyoung alone.

“That was quick,” Soonyoung remarks mildly. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” Jihoon replies quickly. “Just…Wonwoo.”

“Junhui? Wrong about Wonwoo? He knows Wonwoo better than even I do and—”

“—He thinks Wonwoo doesn’t actually have feelings for him.”

“Oh,” says Soonyoung.

“Oh? You agree with him?! You were the one who just yesterday told me they were going to get married!”

Soonyoung shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that…Wonwoo-goon has weird stages of opening up to people, y’know? And I think he can get kind of, um, afraid? To show his sincerity. So he ends up…thinking out his actions. And thinking out what to say. Instead of feeling? And Junnie is a bit sensitive to things like that. He would notice. And not only that, but Junnie…don’t you think he’s a bit like the type who doesn’t believe he can be loved?”

It’s a whole continuous thought process that rains down from Soonyoung, hedged in hemming and hawing not because he’s unsure of himself but to stop himself from stepping on any toes. Jihoon wants to do something stupid, like squeeze Soonyoung’s hand.

“You don’t think so? Sorry, I guess that was kind of long-winded…”

“No, no. I agree.” Jihoon swallows thickly. “So we both think Jun is wrong.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. And Junhui’s wrong not just about Wonwoo, but about the whole Soonyoung situation. Because here’s the thing, and Jihoon’s spent a good twelve hours mulling over this now: Soonyoung himself has said he knows everything about everyone. And considering how detailed his theory about Wonwoo and Junhui’s relationship goes, Jihoon believes it.

But if he believes it, then it also must be true that, well, Soonyoung does know how Jihoon feels. How could someone as observant and aware as Soonyoung not realize how Jihoon feels? It would be impossible. Jihoon is certain Soonyoung knows, but if he knows and doesn’t mention it, then it must be a conscious choice not to talk about it.

And the only reason he wouldn’t want to talk about it is because Soonyoung doesn’t feel the same way about Jihoon.

To the Junhui in his head, Jihoon finishes the sentence he’d began earlier. ‘You’re wrong, Moon Junnie. You’re wrong on two counts.’

Jihoon waddles around in the kitchen for a bit to put some food together for Soonyoung. Now that the immediate discussion on Junhui is over and the two of them can only think about the awkward note they’d left things on last night, the tension in the air between them is thick and uncomfortable. Or maybe it’s not. Jihoon’s not the perceptive one. Maybe it’s only him who feels uncomfortable, for getting so annoyed at Soonyoung. Normally, the cause of his irritation is clear. This time, however, things are a bit more ambiguous and Soonyoung doesn’t seem inclined to reach out. Jihoon probably wouldn’t either in his shoes, not know what the trigger for the bomb is.

He figures a snack is like a peace offering – not quite an apology, because Jihoon’s still disgruntled about the whole thing, but something to clear the air, at least. After plunking down a plastic spoon in front of Soonyoung, Jihoon heads outside, hands shoved into his pockets.

He looks skyward to see Junhui and Hansol sitting up in a tree, backlit by a setting sun, dipping toward the west of the island.

“Jihoon, wait—” Soonyoung comes running out, waving the fork and holding the box of cereal in his hand. “Where are you going?”

“To see what I can find I guess, on this side of the coast. And fill up on water too.”

“I’ll come with you,” Soonyoung says, except it sounds more like “I’ll come with you?”

Jihoon doesn’t say yes or no but he continues walking, and something in his chest eases at the sound of Soonyoung shuffling behind him, trying to eat and follow at the same time, like the idiot he is. Cute idiot. Whatever.

The path he takes must seem erratic to someone else, but Jihoon doesn’t explain his system for searching, and Soonyoung doesn’t seem all that bothered by all the extra walking. They pass the ocean, scouring briefly over the beach and rocks, then re-enter the forest. Along the western perimeter of the trees, they find a crate of canned tuna, which will be a nice add in to the rice for everyone except Wonwoo.

“A productive search then,” Soonyoung says on the way back, keeping his voice light.

“Better than this morning for sure,” Jihoon mumbles. They’re back by the shore again, and Jihoon puts down the crate to stretch out his back.

Soonyoung takes the opportunity to skip out onto the rocks, before finding a flat spot to sit down. Jihoon hadn’t meant to take a long break but lowers himself to a squatting position as well, staring out at the water, the tide crashing into the larger rocks further below.

“They were from Jooheon’s team, Jeonghan said,” Soonyoung tells him, “he’d gotten the update from Minghao before coming to find me. I think they were sent to scout last night, and weren’t expecting to run into anyone.”

Jihoon grumbles, although calmed by the waves. “Feels like a waste of time to go all the way out and come back emptyhanded because of them.”

“Maybe, but it ended up with two more players out, so not a total washout, right?”

“I guess.” He dusts his hands off on his knees and makes to stand. “It’s getting dark, we should head back.”

Soonyoung turns quickly and places a hand on Jihoon’s elbow before withdrawing it again almost immediately. “Can’t we stay for a while? We never get free time but the islands are practically vacation spots.”

“You’re dreaming if you this is supposed to be a vacation,” Jihoon says. “And we’re not having free time right now, I was doing something productive to make up for the lost day, you’re just being…you.”

Only a few rays of light are peeking up over the water now, but Jihoon sits back down. He allows it. He allows Soonyoung to stretch out and use Jihoon’s shins as a back rest too. It’s been a long time since the two of them have had a quiet moment away from the bustle of the others, whether during competition or even during the school year, always surrounded by their friends even when they were conversing one-to-one. But also, Jihoon is so so easy when it comes to Soonyoung. Will agree with anything he suggests, while pretending to grumble the whole way.

“You know, Jihoon,” Soonyoung says. And Jihoon doesn’t know but he can feel the vibrations from Soonyoung speaking where Soonyoung’s back is touching his legs, feels them resonating through his toes. “Chan asks for my advice on things, and Mingyu and Minghao are pretty open about everything. I try not to pry when it comes to you though, because I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know the things you don’t put on offer. I guess what I’m trying to say is…if there’s something about you I don’t know but you think I should, you can always just tell me.”

“Why would I tell you anything?” Jihoon asks, falling back on tried-and-true defensiveness as a coping mechanism.

Soonyoung shrugs, and Jihoon can feel that against his shins too. “I don’t know, I’m good at keeping secrets?”

“No you’re not,” Jihoon says.

“I notice you’re not saying you don’t have secrets.”

“Whatever.” He pushes Soonyoung into an upright position, off his legs, and stands, ready for this conversation to be over.

“If you won’t tell me today…how about tomorrow?”

Jihoon just picks up the crate. “It’s late, Soonyoung. We gotta get back or that cereal will have been your dinner.”

“What about the day after that?”

Day 4: 31 Players Remaining

The rain starts coming down early the next morning. He can hear it pitter-pattering against the tin roof when he wakes up while it’s still dark out, and it’s still drumming down rhythmically when he wakes up a second time. The sun is on the rise now, but it’s still darker out than their usual daylight hours, the rays hidden by the cloud cover. At least the rain cools the temperatures down a little.

“I don’t see a point sending us out in this weather,” Jihoon says after finding Seungcheol. “We can stay here on defense. Take all the archers with you. Replace Jeonghan’s team on perimeter and send them out to see who they can take out. We’re halfway through now and there’s still two other teams standing.”

“Both of them have lost team members,” Seungcheol replies, “But I was going to ask you about the same thing.” He tilts his head. “Glad you’re thinking like a team leader, it bodes well for next year.”

Guilt settles deep in Jihoon’s gut, but not enough of it for him to feel bad.

The thing is, the rest of Jihoon’s team is shitty at guard duty. Chan gets restless easily, which is understandable given that he’d signed up to do as much running as he can. Actually, Channie likes getting into skirmishes with people and winning coolly more than he likes avoiding danger, which, upon reflection, explains his hesitation at Jeonghan’s initial suggestion. Wonwoo falls on the opposite end of the spectrum, and rests entirely too easily, falling asleep while he’s supposed to be alert, or getting distracted by whatever he’s doing to try to stay awake and getting too engrossed to pay attention to his surroundings. This time around they’ve taken Jisoo with them too and left only Mingyu, who’s useful for his height and inclination to take snack breaks every so often to keep everyone well-fed.

During their watch, Mingyu fills Jihoon in on some of the details about what had happened the day before, as mentioned in the dinner meeting he and Soonyoung had been late to arriving because they’d spent too much time dawdling. Mingyu’s chatty nature is a decent distraction from the discomfort of sitting in and wet khakis with water dripping down from Jihoon’s bangs into his eyes. As if visibility weren’t poor enough. Meanwhile, Wonwoo and Chan were comfortably sheltered away from the rain, probably playing cards or something.

Jihoon doesn’t mind having little to do. Playing the long wait is an essential aspect of the games, and being left behind on defense, in his opinion, is way better than having to rush into the thick of things, getting sweaty and bruised trying to outwrestle a bunch of others. It’s more stimulating to use his head than his fists anyway. Originally, he was trained as mark because he was small, harder to spot, and better at getting away. But he willingly acquiesced that position to anyone who wanted it for other positions on the defence team over the years. But with Jeonghan leading his own team, they split up the tasks in more detail, and Jihoon was allowed to focus on terrain and tactics over having to do any dirty work. At the end of the day, he could hear stories about the action from the others and sit back, knowing he’d gotten the best deal out of it all.

On the other hand, Mingyu is probably more restless than Chan, even though he should be used to this by now. He keeps changing positions, and when he moves it jostles the tree branches around them, flicking down droplets of water collected in the leaves. So when Mingyu finally climbs down to make lunch and offers to send someone else back, Jihoon is relieved to be able to request the relatively motionless Wonwoo.

“I hate it when it rains out. Mud gets everywhere,” Wonwoo complains, not even trying to hide that his eyes have already slid halfway shut.

“Better raining than heading out to do any manual labour for you though, isn’t it? Don’t see why you’re complaining.”

“I guess that’s true. Nothing beats lying down all day.”

Jihoon snorts. He’s probably of a similar type, but physical exercise is something he considers fun as well. Wonwoo he’s rather always thought hated moving even for sports. “Don’t quite get why you decide to keep joining the team every year then.”

“It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?” Wonwoo muses. “Gives things a purpose.”

“And you get to see Junhui.”

“And I get to see Junhui.”

“Wow,” Jihoon says.

“What?”

He tilts his head slightly. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree to that one so easily.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Well, what are you going to say about it? Soonyoung would needle me but you don’t particularly care either way.”

“I guess that’s true.” He doesn’t say anything for a while after that, which is probably what Wonwoo was going for. But he still can’t help but think about the day prior. “You were proper fuming at him yesterday.”

“Yes, well, I had reasons.” Wonwoo pauses. “It’s not like you don’t get mad at Soonyoung sometimes.”

“Wow.”

“What is it this time?”

“You really went there…” Jihoon sighs. “Does everyone know? Does Soonyoung know?”

“Oh, so Junhui was right then,” Wonwoo says with mild surprise.

This time it’s Jihoon’s turn to ask, “What?”

“Something he mentioned once. I didn’t think you’d be so upfront about it…” Wonwoo squints upward toward the clouds, which basically don’t seem to have moved. Jihoon looks up with him and clear skies aren’t anywhere in sight. “I’ve never had a related conversation about it with Soonyoung. But he’s kind of…like he can tell you about other people’s personalities but he’s a little less clear about himself. So sometimes he can kind of get out of hand, or insensitive, or something that makes everyone around him want to wind him back in. I don’t know if he knows but considering he can be blind about that, it wouldn’t be surprising to me if he were a bit blind to relationships involving him, at least in comparison to other people’s.”

Jihoon doesn’t feel comforted in the slightest. He does, however, feel kind of kindred spirits with Wonwoo. “Sounds a bit like Junhui.”

Wonwoo purses his lips for a moment. “Yeah.” Then he starts to laugh. “Ah, Jihoon. The two of them are so stupid, but in the end, we’re the real fools, aren’t we?”

“Seokmin’s out.” Seungcheol’s dragging in an exhausted looking Hansol, while Jeonghan looks a bit murderous. “As in eliminated.”

“I should never have joked about us surviving without him,” Seungkwan whines loudly, “Now he’s gone!”

Minghao, looking strangely beat for Minghao, reaches an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders with some effort. “Pull yourself together. He’s eliminated, not dead.”

Jihoon pieces the story together while the others spread themselves out, draped over chairs, blankets, waiting for a turn to wash up, snacking heavily on whatever’s available. The gist is this: Jihoon had been right. The rain created a blood bath, making things slippery and muddy, slowing people down, tripping them up.

Apparently, Jeonghan had been right about the high point being a good spot to pick out people in the distance, but while the ground teams had gone chasing after players frozen by the archers, a second band from one of the other teams had snuck behind to disable the archers, who only had Seokmin nearby. Luckily, Soonyoung had fired off a warning shot to Jisoo, who brought Seungcheol in tow, and there had been a scrum that broke out while only Hansol was unfrozen and in the thick of things, Seokmin slipped.

“I felt like I was watching it in slow motion,” Hansol says, clearly shaken. “I put down my bow because they were already close range and then Seokmin-hyung was sliding down about 10 feet, straight toward one of the other players, and the guy wasted no time in taking his chance.”

“Minhyuk knew,” Jeonghan says, arms crossed. “He knew we would be distracted taking out Shinwon’s team and we got careless.”

“Then what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Mingyu asks, clearly agitated that he wasn’t able to help in the actual fighting, stuck back at base guarding a place that wasn’t attacked.

Seungcheol frowns, thinking for a moment. “I want a word with Jihoon and Jeonghan. Soonyoung too. We can have a group meeting after our discussion.”

They split up, letting the others continue to chatter and eat while the four of them stand around a map that Seungcheol contemplates silently for several minutes.

“How well do you know this part of the island?” Seungcheol eventually asks, pointing along a strip of the central pass, cutting through the southeast quadrant.

“Not well,” Jeonghan reports.

“Really well,” Jihoon says. “We took that way to get to their camp because it seemed more efficient than hugging the coast. That’s how we ended up getting caught, drifting too close to the border, probably.”

“The northeast team now has only four players left, one of them being their mark. They’re not going to go out patrolling or on an offensive, at least if they’re not smart. Jooheon’s team will be trying to ally with them because it’ll give them a stronger shot against us, and it’ll be easier to take out their remaining players after.”

Jeonghan taps a finger on his arm impatiently. “Do you want me in to recon? Change their minds?”

“No,” Seungcheol says. “I think if we let them, they’ll take time to plan. They’re probably talking about it right now and will try to attack us from the closest route tomorrow morning. It makes sense because they’ll have an easier time facing us directly than trying to split up and try guerilla tactics when we’re comfortably in our base.”

“So go now,” Soonyoung says. “Before they’ve got their agreement straight.”

“Exactly.”

Jihoon eyes them both. “You want a night mission. You want to go around the long way and you want me to lead it in the dark.”

“Yes. Look, there’s only four of them. We can down them easily. They’ll be on alert, but what’s that going to do for them if all of us move?”

“All of us?”

“Yes. Leave nothing to be defended back here. It’s a gamble, but we know they’ll have supplies and food at their base. They have to, and this time it’s not about bringing it back to us. It’s about taking over their camp entirely. That way we don’t shrink our numbers in any capacity.”

Jeonghan nods slowly. “And in the morning, take on Jooheon’s team from the unexpected direction. Give us the element of surprise.”

“They’re not going to think we’ll go down easily,” Jihoon points out.

“No, but if it were them, what do you think they would do?”

“Fortify.”

“So what do you think they think we’ll do?”

“Fortify,” Jihoon agrees. “But that’s the obvious answer. They can’t think we’ll just do what’s predicted.”

Soonyoung shakes his head. “That’s not the important thing right now though. Stop thinking in mind games and think about their priorities. They want to survive, that’s the only way they can win. If you only had four people on your team, you are going to spend the night at your camp, trying not to fall asleep. You can’t split up because there’s already so few of you.”

“They could be in Jooheon’s camp.”

“And let them possibly take them out in their sleep? I don’t think so. The survival instinct is too strong, even with an alliance. But Jooheon’s also not stupid. He’s also not going to try us or split up because then we’d win again just based on numbers.”

Jeonghan returns to his point. “So we run. Now, instead of fortifying.”

“Well, if we’re agreed…” Seungcheol says, straightening his back. “Better go round up the others and move out now.”

The gist of the plan is shared along the way, while Jihoon tries to navigate their trek with a penlight (to not draw too much attention), and his internal compass. But this is, after all, playing to his strengths. He’s drawn the maps so many times he doesn’t need to see one, and he’s been down this path before, navigating sharp turns and making sure they stay on track with barely any pause along the way.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung and Jeonghan are discussing their plan of approach, which at the moment stands with the archery team being sent ahead once they’re closer, in case there’s anyone with long range weapons left that need to be dealt with, and Jeonghan’s team taking a short detour around to attack the entrance to base from either side.

In Jihoon’s opinion, if there were only four of them left, he wouldn’t be sleeping in camp. He’d be hiding somewhere up a tree or in a mudflat. That’s his greatest gripe with this mission, but apparently other people are fonder of creature comforts than safety, or maybe had been lulled into a false sense of security by the proposal of forging alliances. Because as they creep up along the east coast from the south, it becomes glaringly obvious that there’s a fire burning up along some ways, just by the shore, where the northeast team have set up camp.

“They won’t have expected us to see that,” Soonyoung murmurs from just behind Jihoon after he too spots the blob of orange in the distance. “You wouldn’t be able to see it through the forest with the shelter blocking it from view. But that’s because they wouldn’t have thought we’d come through the South instead of crossing directly across the island.”

“It’s a really conveniently placed base. Basically can’t be attacked from behind, only either side,” Jihoon says wistfully. “Wish we were that lucky when we were here last time.”

“You remember the last time we were here?!”

Jihoon spares him a glance. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says, “I think every time is a new game. I don’t remember enough of the environment and they change everything all the time anyway.”

“You should probably pay attention a bit more to terrain for next year.”

Soonyoung shrugs, and then upon realizing it can’t be seen in the darkness, makes an “Eh” sound. “I have you to do that kind of stuff for me, don’t I?”

Jihoon bites his lower lip. “Well.” He opens his mouth to say something more but can only make out another, “Well…”

“You know, you said you’d tell me tomorrow, and it’s tomorrow now,” Soonyoung says, bumping Jihoon’s arm with his elbow.

“I said nothing of the sort,” Jihoon says, with the same alarm he’d had on the bus ride. It had almost been like Soonyoung had known Jihoon was quitting before he’d said the words aloud. Soonyoung just always seemed to know everything, as he put it, could tell based on observation, or listening, or intuition. That ghastly perceptiveness that surely tipped off into knowing about Jihoon’s feelings for him. Now that he’s reflecting on it again, Jihoon supposes that would explain why Soonyoung had avoided him their entire time in college.

“Ah,” Soonyoung says with faux sagacity, “the day after it is, then. I see.”

Jihoon has no sense of how Soonyoung will react to the news. In his mind, he thinks that Soonyoung will try to rationalize it and come up with ways that might allow Jihoon to stay. That seems like it would be a painful process, having to draw out all the reasons why he can’t spend another summer basking in Soonyoung’s sunlight when, given the choice, he wants to himself. Another part of his brain fears that Soonyoung will take the news calmly, as if it doesn’t matter, as if Jihoon’s presence during the summer games isn’t all that significant, and not only can they build up a team without him, Soonyoung doesn’t need him.

It’s a weird thought, because Soonyoung doesn’t need him. That’s not news. Soonyoung functions fine by himself, probably burns water in the kitchen, but has survived all these years of living by himself, and dwindling contact with Jihoon. But somehow, thinking about it in the context of summers, it feels like more of a blow. Another case, perhaps, of Soonyoung being right. That the games bring out sides to them that don’t normally get exposed to the surface, parts of them with dense emotion and packed thoughts and feelings.

At any rate, Soonyoung disappears soon after, Junhui and Hansol in tow, the three of them moving silently through the trees toward the light. They’ve been hiking for hours at this point, but no one seems to be slowed by fatigue, even though so many of Jihoon’s teammates had been showing signs of exhaustion earlier. The adrenaline coursing through them keeps them going, and Jihoon’s own heart rate starts climbing after seeing Jeonghan take Seungkwan and Minghao through the trees, disappearing out of sight as well.

They’d better win, is all Jihoon thinks. If they do, he can put off telling Soonyoung a while longer. If they don’t…

Day 5: 20 Players Remaining

Jihoon hears the first player on the other team go down before he sees it. He doesn’t really see it clearly at all, but there’s the sound of someone swearing, and then a mad dash outside while his teammates figure out what’s going on, but by then the conclusion is foregone. Seungcheol and Mingyu are leading four of them from one side, Jeonghan’s leading his team from the other, and between the nine of them there’s enough for two people to hold each person down while someone does the honours of disabling all their collars. That’s not exactly how it goes down, but it could have, is Jihoon’s point.

And when it’s over, the eliminated players are picked up by game administrators who are probably ruffled at having to send pick-up boats past midnight. It leaves the base camp empty, and though it doesn’t feel like home, the rest of them are exhausted enough after the long day to start kipping anywhere.

Sleep is not exactly on Jihoon’s radar. He starts going over inventory immediately, checking for food, water, and other supplies. In the morning, the first thing he’ll have to worry about is water because they don’t know where the well for this camp is, but he also doesn’t know how long they’ll be staying here. As for food, there looks to be enough to feed them for a day, but no more, and even with the surely insane number of granola bars Junhui’s somehow managed to bring with him (Jihoon knows the stash exists without having seen it – Junhui somehow packs snacks with him the way camels store water) they’ll be needing more food sooner than later. It would have been easier to stay here as four people than 12, that was for sure.

After tallying the food, Jihoon moves onto finding Soonyoung to figure out how many arrows they have left. At this point, they’re the only ones awake, except Seungkwan, who’s volunteered for night guard on account of adopting a pretty much nocturnal sleep schedule of late, and Hansol, who’s still shaken enough by the incident from the previous afternoon that he can’t fall asleep.

Soonyoung, predictably really, has dozed off in the middle of counting arrows, mouth slightly open. Jihoon sighs, gently lifts the arrow in Soonyoung’s hands away from his fingers, and lets Soonyoung’s head fall against one shoulder while he squats and counts what they have left.

Afterward, Jihoon pens down some notes for Seungcheol, writing up the inventory stock as well, and he’s still scratching away when Soonyoung comes to, mumbling something about, “Seventeen…seventeen arrows…I’m counting…”

“Well we’d be here until tomorrow if you’re still that far behind the count,” Jihoon chirps back.

Soonyoung shakes himself awake at that, his hair tickling at Jihoon’s jaw. “Huh?”

“There’s 84. And whatever’s left in your quivers.”

“I was on 17! Where did 84 come from?”

Jihoon snorts. “You fell asleep. I did the counting. Since you’re awake now you can kindly get off me and haul your ass into the rooms.”

“I didn’t fall asleep on you! I was counting by myself…You snuck in here!” Soonyoung accuses, rather accurately. His tone softens suddenly. “You let me nap on you…”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jihoon mutters under his breath. It had been rather nice, but he regrets it now. A man who doesn’t know the taste of chocolate never craves it.

Soonyoung blows a breath out through his mouth. “You don’t let other people nap on you, do you?”

“I don’t let anyone nap on me,” Jihoon corrects.

“But I’m napping on you?”

“You’re sleep addled. And should go nap on something else.”

The response to that doesn’t seem particularly resistant, and Soonyoung does pick himself up. “I’m your favourite… I missed being your favourite, you know! You didn’t like me all that much during high school, and then after first semester of college you found another favourite again…I hated that.”

Jihoon freezes midway through tidying up, wondering just how conscious Soonyoung is of what he’s saying. If he’s noticed that much—If he knows—

There’s a banging on one of the cheap plaster walls that draws Jihoon’s attention away, and he’s rushing to follow Soonyoung so he can get him to shut up. Other people are asleep.

“I want to sleep too,” Soonyoung whines quietly. “But these two have to stop making out or I don’t want to go in.”

Jihoon pushes Soonyoung inside quickly, getting him out of the hallway.

“We weren’t making out,” Junhui protests sleepily from the far cot. He’s trying to glare but he’s curled up around Wonwoo and that makes it hard for him to turn his neck.

“We could have been,” Wonwoo offers smoothly.

Jihoon carefully deliberates on the pros and cons of knocking out all of his friends so he never has to deal with any of them again.

The team picks up after a rather late morning. Jihoon is not an early riser by any means, but he had set an alarm the night before for some time around sunrise. After rolling over a few times, he pads out to the common area and spots Jisoo and Minghao through one of the windows, apparently having taken over for Seungkwan and Hansol. The only other person indoors is Seungcheol, sitting on one of the lawn chairs reading Jihoon’s notes. No one else seems to be awake. Surprisingly, Seungcheol doesn’t seem to care, and calmly continues to rifle through some papers, unbothered by the impromptu lie-in.

“The element of surprise…?”

Seungcheol looks up and waves at Jihoon. “I sent Jeonghan out to do some recon. I figure the team could use the rest and we’ll get better performance from well rested players. Team morale. Knowing your team. Those are things a team captain should think about and things you should keep in mind for next year too, you know.”

Jihoon coughs to clear his throat, and pads over to the kitchen area to put together some breakfast for himself. And also to avoid having to make eye contact with Seungcheol, but the breakfast excuse sounds more pleasant. “That sounds like the kind of thing you should be saying to Soonyoung, not me.”

Seungcheol laughs. “I say these things to both of you. Even if one person is deemed team captain, it’s good to have multiple people who are good leaders. Not that either of you are doing poorly with your subteams, but it’s a bit different thinking about 13 people instead of just three or four. Not saying you have to be Jeonghan but…”

“No one else in the world is going to be like Jeonghan,” Jihoon says, frowning slightly. “But I still think you should be saying that to someone else. Wonwoo, if you like. Maybe Mingyu.”

“Even if you’re not a people person usually, it doesn’t mean you can’t learn, Jihoonie. Emotions and things like that don’t come easy to any of us, but we practice and improve. Looking out for others is part of the game, and I think you do it instinctively sometimes anyway.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “That’s…uh…not what I mean. It’s just…well, a waste to be telling me this since I’m quitting the team after this year.”

“Non-negotiable?”

“Not in my control,” Jihoon says.

“I know,” Seungcheol says with a laugh. “If you could choose you would stay for a last year without a doubt.”

Jihoon starts. “Huh?”

“Look, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol says. He puts down his papers gravely. “You like doing this every summer. You enjoy it. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.”

“Um, maybe at an air-conditioned PC bang or somewhere with a proper bed?” Jihoon suggests. He’s a bit put out, really, that he’s supposed to be such a private person, but everyone on this goddamn team seems to be able to read him like an open book.

“Nah,” Seungcheol says. “That’s not you. It’s a shame because I think you do have fun and do well in the competitions, but it’s fine. I’ll chat with the current second and third years. Have a feeling two of them will be willing to take on more responsibility and two of them less so but I’m also interested in what Seokmin has to say, after we win.”

Jihoon doesn’t reply immediately. In his head, the previous comments roll back and forth between his ears, leaving him wondering how it’s possible that he’s been this transparent after all his efforts to be…quiet? Reserved? Jihoon copes with everything wearing a mask of aloofness and annoyance, but that seems not to have deterred his teammates from uncovering more vulnerable sides underneath his defenses. But not only that, despite knowing him beyond his presented image, they haven’t used it against him. It contrasts to the games, where knowing the enemy is to strike at their softest, exposed weaknesses. Instead, between Junhui and Soonyoung and Wonwoo and now Seungcheol, it’s like they’ve been protecting those sides of Jihoon.

“Win, you say…How are we going to win sitting on our asses here? Surely Jooheon’s going to figure out soon that his plan fell through?”

“Right you are,” Seungcheol says, standing slowly, unperturbed. “I suppose it’s time to rouse the rabble and seek victory. But you know, it’s twelve versus eight. We’re not going to lose.”

Jihoon wonders if Seungcheol’s feeling the same confidence now. Theoretically, they have the man advantage. But Changkyun’s team has the higher ground for their archers, and the familiarity with their territory to give them further advantage. They fight one-on-one, in small groups, and larger patterns that Seungcheol calls out periodically, his voice reaching Jihoon through the distance even though the image of him doesn’t, not past all the trees.

For every one of their opponents they take down, it seems like they lose one of their own, first Hansol, then Seungkwan, and then, at least, Mingyu seems to overtake all three of his attackers alone without going down. Jihoon’s a runner. He’s good at running. Maybe kicking too. But his reach is shorter than most of the others, and it makes disabling a collar difficult when he has to parry away the advances against him. So he launches himself at someone’s knees, taking his enemy down and holding his legs so they can’t get away, while someone with longer arms quickly disposes of the metal around the guy’s neck. Jihoon thanks Minghao with a nod before they’re parting ways again, looking for the next conquest.

It all happens in a real blur, leaving Jihoon tired and aching in all of his muscles when the only other players he can see are his teammates, all of them equally exhausted, panting and leaning down into their knees.

But the game’s not over. Normally, at the end, a loud foghorn will sound, they get shipped back to harbour, and have a few days to prepare for the next round. But this time around nothing sounds, and a flurry of murmurs erupts, Jeonghan leading a head count and groaning.

“Minhyuk. Minhyuk is their mark. And he’s hiding,” Jeonghan complains, sinking down to a half-squat. “I hate this game,” he says, with feeling. “I’ve lost both my teammates and have to slum it with the rest of you now.”

Jihoon has maps. He has hatching and crosshatching. He can scour the entire island piece by piece, systematically, so no stone is left unturned. But that only really works if what they’re looking for stays in one square of the grid. Between the ten of them still remaining, even if they fanned out in a line the way they do when someone goes missing at a beach, they wouldn’t be able to cover enough territory and prevent someone from slipping through their fingers. Minhyuk is a moving target, and search strategies for a moving target…well, it isn’t like they could shoot an arrow up in the air and hope it lands in the right direction.

Jeonghan continues, “Why is he even doing this? It’s not like he can take all of us out without anyone noticing, and if the game goes through the end of the week we’ll still win. Running away and hiding isn’t going to change the outcome at all! This is completely pointless.”

Mingyu pipes up with, “It’s not like you’d just concede victory easily either, Jeonghan-hyung,” which Jihoon thinks is a rather brave thing to put out there given Jeonghan’s current mood.

“Shut up, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, but it’s rather without feeling.

“Do we search for him?” Jisoo asks, trying to point the conversation in a more productive direction. “Or is that a waste of energy?”

“Bit more effective than sitting around and doing nothing though, isn’t it? And if we do that we’re sitting ducks for him to try to take out our mark,” Soonyoung points out.

Minghao shakes his head. “It’s not like we wouldn’t put up a fight.”

“Exactly. He only has a one in ten chance of getting it right and no matter who he tries the rest of us would be on him like white on rice. He can’t get away with anything. We just make sure no one’s going to be alone in the next few days, and I’d like to see him try.”

“You just want to take things easy,” Mingyu accuses.

Jeonghan gives him a ‘duh’ expression. “Can you blame me? If the game were over now we’d be resting in the city already. Real beds. A nice long hot shower with real water pressure and soap and shampoo. Soft, fluffy towels. Air conditioning. Six pillows per person. Actual food. Food, Mingyu, don’t you miss food?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Seungcheol cuts in. “We all see your point but saying that is going to make everyone else miss living comfortable lives too. But that’s not why we signed up to play. We came here to win, camping out in the wilderness be damned. Let’s win this quickly, and then we can return to an extra day or two of living in luxury.”

“Anyone have any grand ideas on how to win then? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?” Jisoo sighs. “Hansol would have gotten the joke.”

“Well, we should try searching for their camp first, shouldn’t we?” Soonyoung suggests.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “He’s not going to hide out there, that’s the first place we’d look.”

“Right, so wouldn’t it be stupid if he were there and we didn’t go find him?”

“It’s too obvious—”

“—Actually,” Minghao cuts in, “I agree with Soonyoung, we should find their base.”

Soonyoung starts to look radiantly at Minghao but gets shot down rather quickly.

“I don’t think we’ll find him there but here’s the thing: he’s going to need water. He can’t keep two days’ worth on him because it’ll be too heavy so he’ll have to be close to a well or a base camp. That narrows it down to about six potential areas. But surely they’ll have a map in their base about what they’ve explored and I have a suspicion they don’t have recon on the southeast team – that’s why the scouts were where they were when they found us. If my theory’s right he won’t know where their well or camp were so it narrows it down to four places to look.”

Seungcheol blinks at Minghao for a moment and Jihoon can see the gears turning in his head. But they don’t have time to be thinking about other things right now, and Seungcheol returns to the problem at hand fairly quickly, agreeing to test the idea out.

As Wonwoo had surmised, Minhyuk isn’t at the base camp, which takes them no time to find given Jeonghan’s previous scouting trips. But the team map is available, along with sketched out circles and no indication that they’d crossed into the southeast quadrant whatsoever.

“So now…Northeast or southwest? Two completely opposite directions, a 50/50 chance he’s gone either way.” Mingyu’s looking at Minghao when he says this and Minghao offers a ‘what, do you think I’m psychic?’ sort of expression back not too kindly.

“We could split up,” Jihoon suggests. “There’s enough of us and travelling in such a large group isn’t all that convenient.”

“He’s going to notice if ten people come chasing after him and try to escape, he’s not stupid,” Jeonghan agrees.

Mingyu tilts his head. “But right now we have safety in numbers, and it would be harder if ten people approached him for him to escape.”

“Not if he spots us coming from far away,” Jeonghan points out.

“Alright,” Seungcheol says, “let’s split up by age. Jisoo, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Minghao with me, Jeonghan will take the other four to our original base camp. We have the advantage of having lived in both camps before and should be familiar with either of the surroundings.”

“Wait,” Jihoon interrupts, “are we leaving right now? Because we need water too and since we’re here we might as well stock up.”

Minghao raises his hand and wiggles his fingers. “I have a similar question. If we go now won’t it be dark by the time we hit either side of the island? It’s much easier for him to slip away under cover of darkness. And what about this camp? Are we leaving anyone here? What if his ultimate goal is to come back and we’ve made it easier for him?”

Jeonghan makes a noise out of frustration. “It’s so stupid, like if we made it easier for him to come back and stake out until the end of the game, we’d win on numbers.”

“I don’t think we should split up any further. The only tiny shot he has at victory now is if he takes our mark and the odds of that are significantly lower if we’re in larger groups,” Seungcheol says seriously.

“I should have just eliminated him when we first met. I could have,” Jeonghan says, continuing to grumble in the background.

“Why don’t we make camp here tonight,” Soonyoung suggests quickly, trying not to let Jeonghan get too deep into it. “Because all of us are gross, tired, and hungry. Plus we can’t be sure we can end the game tonight. If we get an early start before sunrise tomorrow morning, we can fan out in either direction and make it harder on him. If we catch him, great, if we don’t, we did our best but still come out with the W. It’s not a total washout.”

“The problem is we can’t communicate with each other,” Jihoon says, again frustrated with the archaic nature of the rules. “If we could, if we find both bases empty we could then round back. There’s only so many places he could be hiding.”

“Well he’s also capable of moving around, so it’s not that easy.”

“I think,” Seungcheol says slowly, “our real focus should just be on not making careless mistakes. We already got careless once, and that was how we ended up losing our first player when we really could have come out of this with all 13 of us still in the game. The win is the most important thing, rather than how we do it. No careless mistakes, don’t get yourselves eliminated, and we’ll go back for allocated break on Sunday and regroup for round two.”

And so, in as many nights, the team finds themselves sleeping in a third basecamp, again with a similar layout but not quite the same as the ones prior. Since their numbers have shrunk, the rooming situation changes somewhat as well, with Junhui and Wonwoo sharing with Chan, leaving Jihoon and Soonyoung alone.

Just the thought of it makes Jihoon nervous. He doesn’t know why. There’s been plenty of occasions where they’ve slept in the same room both pre- and post- Jihoon developing feelings, and it’s no different from any of those times. But, he supposes, all of them are particularly on edge as a result of the game situation and, as always, Soonyoung is right. It makes them emotional, Jeonghan is losing his cool trying to win this thing, Junhui and Wonwoo are doing some sort of complex mating dance Jihoon doesn’t understand, and Jihoon himself…he’s stressed.

“Why are you so twitchy?” Soonyoung asks, noticing as soon as he comes back from brushing his teeth. “The seniors are camped out in the common area so no one’s getting in without them noticing and Junhui and Wonwoo can handle things if it comes to it.”

“Right…” Jihoon exhales slowly.

“Something on your mind? You know, now it’s the day after. You’re really not going to tell me the thing I’m supposed to know but apparently don’t?”

Jihoon feels like he should say something, anything, just to ease the jumpiness of his pulse so close to the surface of his skin, something to stave off the nerves and loosen some of the tightness in his rib cage. Maybe also to make up for storming off on Soonyoung a few days ago, angry, bitter, jealous, but now resigned to the way things are.

“I…”

“You?”

“I’m not competing next year. In the games, I mean. So…this is our final summer. Well, mine anyway.”

Soonyoung looks at him. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it? That’s your response?”

All Jihoon gets is a shrug. “I mean…you’re not dying. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

Jihoon pauses. “I’m just surprised this is your reaction to the news. It seems…too calm for you.”

“Maybe.” Soonyoung shrugs again. “But you’ve been all broody about finality this whole week so I guessed something was up. I was kinda expecting the big news to be you professing your undying love for me but I overheard your conversation with Seungcheol this morning so I already knew the quitting thing.”

“What.”

“What?” Soonyoung laughs awkwardly. “Oh…that fantasy…well, it’s what I hoped anyway.”

“Kwon Soonyoung,” Jihoon says thickly, finding it difficult to swallow. “Be serious, for once in your life.” His chest, which had been too tight before, now feels completely empty. He’s not sure what to think but there’s this weird sense of endlessness in his gut, like he’s falling through unlimited wormholes and unable to escape. Why on earth would Soonyoung hope for something like that?

“This is the most serious I’ve been about anything,” Soonyoung says quietly. He fiddles with the edge of the cot. “I know you weren’t the biggest fan of me in high school. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to get you to like me? Somehow I conned you into hanging out with me, being my friend and stuff. But…”

He looks up, and Jihoon stares back at him.

“But I wanted you to actually like me. I thought maybe you had started to. And then I wanted you to like me even more. I didn’t think you could ever like me as much as I liked you, but there was that one time, in first year at university, you got drunk and started petting my hair and I thought—” Soonyoung breaks off suddenly, and looks away. “I watch everyone. I watched you too, and I thought, well, maybe…”

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon says. “Are you saying that all this time, you knew how I felt, you felt the same way, and…?”

“Do you know how I feel, though?” Soonyoung asks. “Jihoon-ah, you and Wonwoo are both like this. You think we’re here for the moment now, but neither Junhui or I have ever wanted to jump into something if you weren’t endgame. And I’ve already strong armed you into so many things these past six years, but this was not something I was going to force you into before you were ready. So when we grew apart, I realized, it wasn’t time to bring it up.”

“So you waited,” Jihoon says.

“Yes,” Soonyoung agrees.

“Do you think we’re 100% prepared every time we walk into one of these games?”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows rise. “Pardon?”

“You absolute idiot, no one is ever ready for anything in their lives. You could have saved both of us a lot of hell if you’d just said something.” Jihoon wants to claw Soonyoung’s cute squishy little face off.

“It’s hard when it comes to yourself!” Soonyoung protests. “You can’t tell how much is the truth and how much is just wistful thinking.”

“I hate you,” Jihoon says, without any feeling behind it.

Soonyoung looks at him, a truly irresistible pout spread over his face. Jihoon ducks away, knowing he can’t win against it.

“Go to bed. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Tomorrow?” Soonyoung asks hopefully.

Jihoon sighs. “Go to sleep, Soonyoung.”

“The day after?”

Day 6: 11 Players Remaining

Soonyoung trails after him like a lost puppy the whole day. They get to the last base camp they’d been at, the one just beside the water, and though the search from top to bottom, finding the well and clearing that area too, there’s no sign of Minhyuk. So, they can only play a waiting game. And a waiting game involves a lot of sitting around, rotating guard, and too much time to think.

It’s a real head spinner to think that his reasoning had been all off. Jihoon had seriously convinced himself that Soonyoung knew about Jihoon’s feelings and simply hadn’t brought them up because they were reciprocated. But to turn that on its head and find out Soonyoung mentioned nothing because they were reciprocated is a bit of a mind fuck. But, at the same time, Soonyoung is right once again. It’s one thing to think to yourself, ‘this is the only person in the world I could ever let my guard down with,’ and a completely different thing to say to that person, ‘right, well, come on in then, my guard’s down for you’. It’s hard to invite people into Jihoon’s friend circle already, but something even closer than that…

He’d approached it with some ridiculous amount of bravery last night, sure, but that courage has gone and completely vanished at this point.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” Soonyoung says.

“You should be,” Jihoon replies. He softens that with, “But I’m sure you were agonizing over it too.”

They’re sitting on top of the camp site, the water behind them. Soonyoung’s supposed to be keeping an eye out but his bow is on the ground by his legs.

“I was worried you were going to catch onto me. Because I was always trying to be in the same group as you, or asking you questions, and stuff like that. I thought if you figured it out it would scare you off.”

Jihoon scoffs, and turns his head to hide his amusement. “It’s not like I was trying to avoid you.”

“It still would have scared you off though.”

“It still might.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything to that.

“I can’t…I’m not like Junhui or Wonwoo, I don’t do that always touching thing. I’m not…”

“I know,” Soonyoung says.

“But…it’s not really the touching that’s the problem. It’s more like…I don’t know, the proximity?”

Soonyoung nudges Jihoon with his shoulder. “Hey, I get it. That’s partially why I didn’t say anything too.”

“Clearly I don’t know anything,” Jihoon mutters, “and meanwhile you know everything. Annoying.”

Soonyoung laughs. “I know you’re not really someone who lets their guard down, so I won’t ask you to do that. But it would be nice if we could be close during the rest of the year, and actually spend time together again.”

“I…” Jihoon swallows. “I worried. That this would be it. This would be the last time we’d really see each other before moving onto separate lives.”

“Well come now, even if that’s true, we still have, what, another eight weeks before we win nationals?”

“We better come out of that with the championship trophy,” Jihoon grouches. “We shouldn’t even be thinking about anything else right now, other than winning.”

Soonyoung pats his arm. “Hey, relax, it’s not like there’s anything we can do right now. And besides, even if you don’t come out with the gold medal, at least you’ll leave with a boyfriend, right?”

“Don’t say that.”

“What, boyfriends? Do I have to wait until tomorrow?”

“You have to wait until, let’s see, never.”

Soonyoung nods, “The day after it is, then.”

The funny thing about the foghorn sounding, this time around, is that they have no clue if they’ve won or lost. It takes a while before they all reunite, waiting for the boat to take them back to Busan, and no one wants to ask about the result.

It’s not until they spot Jeonghan, sporting the biggest grin Jihoon’s ever seen on his face, that it all becomes clear.

Somehow, Minhyuk had managed to escape capture through the morning, but had been spotted in the afternoon by Mingyu, an accident really, and as reports went, Jeonghan sprinted so fast there was no other possible result than their victory.

“I knew there was something different about hyung this summer,” Soonyoung mutters.

“Yes, you’re always right,” Jihoon allows.

He’s also allowing Soonyoung to use his shoulder as a head rest again, which, maybe not that unusual all things considered, but definitely a rarity in front of other people. The boat taking them back to the mainland, however, is bustling and no one else is really sitting calmly like they are, so he thinks they pretty much get away with it.

Until Wonwoo sits down.

“Cute. I’m glad.”

“Go away,” Jihoon says.

Wonwoo frowns. “That’s what Junhui said too.”

“Junhui?” Soonyoung asks skeptically, lifting his head from Jihoon’s shoulder. Jihoon kind of misses it.

“Okay, he didn’t say it like that, but that was the general point.”

“You two still haven’t worked things out, huh?”

Wonwoo bristles. “Calm down, it’s not a race, we have time to figure the rest of our lives out.” And then deflates. “Although, at the moment, it seems like we get along better when we’re not saying anything to each other than when we try to actively communicate.”

It’s not malicious, but Soonyoung laughs. “Well, I mean, you two aren’t exactly getting far away from each other with the rest of the tournament still to play.”

“Exactly,” Wonwoo agrees.

Jihoon looks at Wonwoo, who turns his head, eyes searching for Junhui. Jihoon turns his own gaze onto Soonyoung, who’s staring out at the ocean with an almost smug look on his face. Truth be told, it’s already been a long journey for them. But at the end of the road is another junction, and if he’s walking that path with Soonyoung, well, they’ve already come this far. What’s a little further?