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For this game, you need to find a partner. You will be playing as a pair.
“Tsk, another co-op game,” he mumbled, pressing a finger to his temple. He was starting to get tired, sleepless nights fighting for his own life, finally taking a toll on his wellbeing. “Whatever…”
You have ten minutes to choose a partner. Please, pick wisely.
Minho sighed, turning around when a not-so-unfamiliar hand pulled his sleeve.
Of course. It had to be him again. He tried not to grimace at that sheepish smile that was starting to become quite the usual view.
“Kitty looking hyung! Let’s team up.”
Those words were followed by a sweet giggle. An annoying giggle, he must add.
Oh, how he would miss that laugh.
“No. You’re weak. We don’t know what type of game we will be playing… I already made a mistake choosing you for the last one.” Voice cold, he turned again, looking for anyone else.
Yeah, it couldn’t be that easy.
“Hyung! Please,” he pouted, making Minho sigh before looking at him again. The boy’s eyes lit up, smiling softly. “Please, hyung. We won last game! I mean, we are alive right now, aren’t we? Also, it’s not like anybody wants to team up with you. Come on… I will make you win!”
Five minutes left.
He wanted to laugh at that boy. Tell him he was being ridiculous, that he contributed with absolutely nothing for their last game, that he didn’t need his help, he could get a partner himself…
Looking around, he realised just how wrong he was. Almost every pair had already been formed. He could see some smiling, some plotting, some cheering themselves…
He could see Bang Chan paired up with Changbin, the brute force duo. Those two could beat any pair in a fight. We are no match for them.
Hyunjin and Jeongin were, of course, another team. The latter was almost jumping around, so pure and happy. He looked happy to be in a team with Hyunjin, his favourite hyung. Minho shook his head. Poor baby.
The last pair from their little crew consisted of Felix and Seungmin. The latter was always thinking, like he knew something nobody else did, like he could predict their next game, like he had the perfect strategy. As for Felix, he trusted Seungmin blindly. He would follow any of his orders, entirely trusting the outcome would be positive. That’s dangerous, little sunshine.
Two minutes left.
Minho grunted. He had no other choice, did he? He trusted nobody, and nobody trusted him either. Aside from their little squad, he had no one else to play with.
He turned again, the younger’s eyes glistening prettily, his cheeks puffed up awaiting for an answer.
“How will you do that?” At those confused doe eyes, he rolled his own. “Make me win. How are you planning to do that?”
“Whatever it takes, hyung. I will make sure you win, whatever it takes.”
He looked just as silly as he always did, but his eyes… No lie reflected on those shiny, brown eyes.
“Why me?” Minho asked.
“Why did you ask me to join you for the last game?” He retorted, smiling.
He looked away for a split second.
“You were the only one I thought would come along.” Minho confessed, unable to look at him.
“I feel the same right now.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. Lonely, aren’t we? Pretending to be okay.
Minho took his hand.
“Whatever, let’s play together. But you will, and I mean it, follow my every order. We will do things my way, unless you want us both to die here.”
He had no need for a verbal answer after seeing the younger’s face lit up, the squirrel-looking boy suddenly hugging him closely and too tightly.
“Thank you, hyung! I promise I won’t be a burden!” He exclaimed, laughing brightly. Minho pushed him to the side, frowning and grunting once again. “’m sorry! I just got excited.”
Stupid kid, stop giggling. We’re betting our lives on this…
He sighed, fixing his own hair with a shaky hand. Tired… He was so tired.
Time’s up. All players, follow the instructions from the staff and go to your positions. The game will be explained briefly.
His stomach twisted.
Everything was so weird. The labyrinth-looking playground, a miniature version of some street from some unknown town. Being forced into team games two consecutive times. The fact that there were no indicators of what they would have to play… Were they trying to have their newly made squad fight eachother? Did they force them to befriend others just to betray eachother hours later?
“Scary.”
That was probably the boy’s voice, bringing him back to earth from his train of thoughts. He sighed, following the pink-suited bastard towards some sort of little square, somewhere in the corner of the playground.
They were given two small bags. As soon as he looked inside, his breath hitched.
“Marbles?” The other pouted, confused. “What are we supposed to do? Throw them at another team? I don’t wanna kill no people with some marbles, man…”
He stayed silent. He couldn’t pinpoint what was the purpose of that game. Marbles… What could they possibly do with those? He was about to open his mouth, when the announcement pierced through their ears.
Now, for this game’s rules.
In this game, you have to use your ten marbles to compete with the partner next to you.
No…
The player who takes all ten marbles from their partner wins. You have thirty minutes to do so, but you are forbidden from acting violently. You can make your own rules, otherwise.
Let me repeat.
What?
His body was shaking. His heart was pounding on his ears, his skin suddenly running cold.
It wasn’t a team game… It was a life or death game between the two.
He took a deep breath.
The younger boy was sitting on a staircase right next to him, his leg bouncing up and down hastily, while he played with the bag in his hands.
“What should we play?”
His own voice sounded unfamiliar. A cold facet, a mask for his own good.
If he acted like he had no feelings, then he would have none, right?
He wouldn’t be a killer.
“You’re so cold, hyung.” The boy pouted, followed by an airy laugh. How could he laugh in that situation? One of them was going to…
One of them was going to die.
“Shut the fuck up. What game are we playing?”
The other’s face twitched for a second, only for a smile to form again. He shook his shoulders, not looking at him.
“I don’t know either, hyung. I’ve never played with these, isn’t this what old hags used to play when they were… Well, not old hags?” Rolling his eyes, he laughed softly. “I’ll give it some thought, though.”
Silence followed suit.
They didn’t say a thing for a few minutes.
Just how unfair could it be? He had killed so many people already, but it was always people he didn’t know a damn thing about.
You know nothing about him either.
No, he did not. He knew nothing about that stupid, giggly kid. But he didn’t need to. They had played together, covered their backs for a night, teamed up with the hopeful wish that they would win together.
Why did it have to be so cruel?
“Hey, let’s bet it all on a single round.”
He looked up, staring at the younger.
“Just one round. Let’s bet everything on that. Or would you rather do that until the time runs out?”
His face pointed at some random pair, who were throwing some marbles, god knows what sort of game they were playing. Whenever one won even just one of their opponent’s marbles, they would scream in joy, bitterness washing over the loser.
Minho shook his head.
“What are we playing?” That was all he needed to say. Indifferent.
“My my, are you in a rush to kill me, hyung?”
That joke felt like a cold knife stabbing his chest.
He pulled his gaze apart, eyeing the floor again.
“It’s just one round, isn’t it? Let’s do it last minute. How about we talk for a while, hyung?”
“About what.” He questioned, not even looking in his direction.
“Something we can’t tell other people. One of us is going to die either way, right? There’s no loss. Whatever we say here, there’s not a single chance of an awkward personal encounter later, don’t you think?”
His legs were trembling, so he sat down.
He hated it. He hated how the other was right. He didn’t want him to be right… Why couldn’t it be a mean joke? One of those hidden camera situations, where someone would appear before the timer ended, telling them it was a joke, telling them they passed the trial.
He took a shaky breath, side-looking at the younger.
“Why did you come here?” The boy started, smiling.
He frowned, shaking his head. “Isn’t that obvious? For money. I’m risking my life for money.” He explained no further, not bearing to look at him for much longer.
“What about your family? Do you have anyone out there waiting for you?”
With a sharp intake of breath, he closed his fists.
“My brother. He’s younger, younger than you, even. Mom and dad are dead.”
His answers were short and cold. Was there any reason to have a wholehearted talk with a stranger before killing eachother? He did not think so. He did not want to think about that.
“Where is your brother, then?”
“Orphanage.”
15 minutes left.
“So… What would you do with the money, if you won?”
He caressed one of the marbles, sighing. “I’ll buy a house, for me and my brother. Will take care of him properly.”
Why was he almost whispering? And why did the other laugh?
“I bet you could do more than that with 40 billion won, hyung.” His mocking voice was shaky.
Not like Minho noticed.
“Don’t you want to go anywhere, maybe?”
He looked at the floor, shyness washing over him.
“Jeju Island.” He mumbled so quietly, that Jisung had to push his face closer to hear him.
“Jeju Island?” Tilting his head to the side, he formed a small smile after seeing Minho nod quietly.
“It looks… Different. Looks exotic, seems like a nice place.” His voice, merely a whisper, had at least some of it’s natural warmth, and the boy couldn’t stop himself from grinning.
“But, Jeju!? You would have 40 billion won! Hyung, you could dream higher.” Laughing softly, he shook his head. “There’s so many places far more interesting… ‘don’t know, Hawaii, or something. Laying down on one of those folding chairs, mojito in hand, watching the sunset. Dream bigger, hyung!”
Confused, he turned to look at the younger, eyes wide and lips pouting. “A… Mojito?”
His eyes suddenly beamed and he felt stupid.
“Haven’t you seen any movies? You don’t know?” His voice was high piched, somehow not believing that he had no clue about what he was talking about. He shook his head, pouting when the boy kept talking. “Man, you’re so bad! I need to teach you about so many things when we get out of here!”
His mood dropped.
Suddenly, his heart felt heavy, his pout disappearing as soon as he looked away from the boy, watching his own hands.
He didn’t see the way his smile faltered, his wide eyes losing that child-like sparkle. He could only hear his voice, falling down to a simple whisper.
“Ah. Right… We can’t.”
Once again he missed the way his lips trembled. He missed how his voice got darker, how he was holding back.
He miserably failed to understand that the boy was laughing and smiling only because he didn’t want to break in front of the older.
Silence fell between the two, once again.
8 minutes left.
“When I was a kid, my family got caught in some sort of territorial dispute,” he mumbled, not knowing why. He licked his lips, his voice too hoarse for his own liking. “My parents died there. That was the first time I saw someone die. After that, I took my brother and ran far, far away.”
He could practically hear the other smiling.
“You’ve got some really dark stories, hyung.”
“Don’t you?”
He smiled, sighing softly.
A gunshot was heard, not too far away.
“First one was my mother. Arrived from school, ‘was laying dead on the floor. I saw my dad, kneeling next to her, bloody knife in his hand.” Voice soft, he continued to talk, looking somewhere and nowhere at the same time. “Second one was my dad. The knife was in my hand, and I was the one kneeling. He used to beat my mom, and I wish that was the only thing he ever did to me. Then he would pray, asking for our sins to be forgiven, y’know? Didn’t see him praying when he killed my mom.”
More gunshots.
More numbers.
Less time.
“What would you do if you won the money?” He asked, looking at the young boy.
“No clue. I just came here because I had nowhere else to go. Got one of those weird ass cards when I was released from prison.”
Another giggle. Minho found himself smiling sadly.
“How ‘bout we go to Jeju together?”
Again, he frowned. Did he do that on purpose?
“’m sorry. Mistake, again.”
Gunshots.
Gunshots!
Gunshots
He stood up.
“Let’s play.”
The other just smiled, nodding quietly. Minho turned around, once again missing the younger’s look.
Why? Why did he fail to see all those signals?
He pointed at a wall, cheeks puffing.
“See that wall? Whoever throws a marble closer to it, wins. Can’t touch the wall though. Seems good?”
Minho nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Minho. Lee Minho.”
He blinked a few times, tilting his head. “Excuse me?”
“My name.”
The younger smiled brightly, laughing once again. “Minho… Nice name. Jisung here.”
“Family name?” Minho mumbled, curious.
“’don’t have one.” He looked at the wall, smiling.
Minho swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
“Who goes first?”
“You can go first. Your number is before mine, too. Fair enough?”
He failed again. Failed to see Jisung’s sad smile, his eyes shining with a few tears fighting to break free, before he wiped them away.
He failed to see every. Damn. Signal.
He just looked at the wall. Pulled out a marble from his own stash, and threw it.
The crystal ball rolled on the floor, crossing a fair distance before it stopped, a few centimeters before the wall.
Minho turned to look at Jisung, who was just smiling. He stepped back, letting the younger crouch in front of him, pulling a marble from his own stash.
From his spot, he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see Jisung’s eyes twitching, the tears forming again, one of them flowing carelessly down his cheek. He couldn’t see his cheeks softly puffing up when he smiled. He couldn’t see Jisung looking at the marble in his hand.
The marble fell.
It didn’t even roll on the floor. It just fell, flat, right in front of Jisung’s feet.
His eyes widened, anger, betrayal, hurt, pushing past his chest. He rushed to the younger, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt and pushing him against the wall. “What are you doing?”
Jisung was crying. “I lost.”
“What do you think you are doing!?” He screamed, his jaw clenching, his lips trembling.
“It slipped, hyung…” The tears were flowing on his stupidly beautiful cheeks, and he wanted to cry himself.
“Is that what you meant? Making sure I win? Did you think I would be grateful? Throw it again.” He groaned, his features shaking, his eyes on the verge of tears.
“I wouldn’t be able to win, even if I did.” Another laugh, perhaps an attempt to ease his tears. “Just let me lose with style-“
“Stop trying to be cool and just throw it again!” He yelled, sniffling. When did he start crying? Why did he…
A hand was softly placed over his cheek, and he let a sob escape his throat. Jisung looked at him with the softest, most broken look he had witnessed for the past week. He felt like his heart was slowly being torn apart, his feelings under no control.
“I don’t have anything…” That smile. He was going to die, why, why… “You have a reason to win. A reason to leave this place, a reason to live. I don’t have anything, Minho hyung… I’m just… I’ve been nothing more than a murderer for the past eight years. I’ve been thinking real hard about what I could do if I won, if I left this place… But I have nothing. I can’t think of anything. You have a good reason… You really do. What’s the point of me winning? There’s nothing waiting for me, and I would just have to keep living as the murderer I am.” His voice was trembling, his shaky hand softly caressing Minho’s cheek as he spoke. “I did the right thing.”
His eyes burned, his chest hurt and he felt broken. What was he supposed to say? He knew, from a logical point of view, that Jisung was right. But why… Why did he save him? They met barely two days ago, he had only been mean to him, so why…
“Why?” He asked, voice broken.
“Make sure you leave this place alive, and… Save your brother, go to Jeju together.”
Why did he have to laugh? Why did he smile like that? Why…
Why was Jisung’s hand pulling away? Why was he turning around?
Where was the hidden camera? Where was the staff that was supposed to tell them it was a joke?
Why the fuck was Minho leaving!?
He looked at the floor, barely registering anything anymore. He was just… Heartbroken. Why did Jisung have to die for him?
“Lee Minho!”
He stopped walking.
He couldn’t turn around. His heart was beating so fast, he could even hear it. Jisung’s soft voice… Would it really be the last time he heard it?
“Thank you… For playing with me.”
The words shakily left Jisung’s mouth, and he could hear the tears. But he didn’t turn around.
He didn’t turn around.
Gunshot.
He flinched, and he had to put a hand over his heart to stop it from breaking entirely, from ripping apart from his chest.
Thud.
Jisung’s body fell to the floor, and Minho couldn’t breathe.
He sniffled, grabbing onto his shirt as hard as he could, his whole body trembling, his heart broken, his eyes swelling from the tears.
Player 240, eliminated.
Quietly, he resumed his walk again.
He felt empty. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. He could only contain his own cries, as he followed the staff back to the dorms.
If only he had been more careful… If only he had noticed all the signs. If he had paired with somebody else… If he had trusted him, if he had at least looked at him. If only he had paid attention to his smiles, to that tearful glint on his eyes whenever they realised that one of them was going to die.
For fucks sake, he was just a kid… He never had a chance at living.
Imprisoned for years, only to be taken to a killing game.
Why did life had to be so cruel?
Why did he have to be the one standing in front of his own bed?
It took a while, but he managed to stop shaking. He managed to lift his face, realizing that almost everyone was living a nightmare.
Bang Chan sat cross-legged on his bed, fists closed and face swollen. So Changbin had lost… He shook his head, eyeing the other beds.
Jeongin wasn’t looking any better, body shaking and features devastated. Hyunjin was a little shit sometimes, but he would never put himself before Jeongin. Now he was unsure, was Chan crying because of Changbin, or because of Hyunjin?
He sighed, Seungmin sitting on the last bed. They both looked at eachother, and for the first time, Minho felt the urge to pull away from his gaze, terrified.
It looked… Wrong. Seungmin didn’t look shaken, didn’t look nearly as broken as any of them.
But why…?
He wouldn’t know, at least until he found himself sitting on a bed, on the verge of dying prior to the last game, lights flicking.
And the last thing he saw before dying was Seungmin holding a knife to his throat.
I’m sorry… I couldn’t fulfill my promise, Jisung.
~
Minho stood still, looking at his reflection on the wall-tall mirror. He smiled softly, stretching and only stopping when the door flew open.
Full cheeks, small lips and wide, shiny eyes looked at him in surprise.
The atmosphere felt tense, the air cutting through them reminding both to breathe.
The kid awkwardly lifted a hand to his neck, scratching it softly. “H-Hey… Uh, I’m Han Jisung. ‘this the room for the proyect, right?”
Jisung… Why did that name sound familiar? He was pretty sure he had met no Jisungs at any point in his life.
“Yes, it is. Dance examination will begin in about ten minutes, you should stretch.”
His heart felt warm at the sight of the boy’s lips form a smile, cheeks puffing and eyes shining like he had never seen before.
Minho let himself smile softly, turning his gaze away, kind of shy.
For some reason, that encounter…
It felt like it was meant to happen.