Chapter Text
He wakes up with shards in his lungs like an explosion of crackling gunpowder. Blood replaces the oxygen inside, suffocating his body under a thousand pounds. A continuous poke prods under his eyes trying to escape, throbbing as a reminder.
It’s so damn bright.
He shut his eyes tighter, trying to block all the white light away like what he does when mom insistently urges him to go to get ready for the day. He needed air badly, most importantly, he needed to live and his soul tethers on the brink of a void-less afterlife.
He hears the rustle of clothes, his sixth sense heightened that there was indeed someone nearby, he could feel their warmth even if it was inches away and the hairs on his nape stand up. On instinct he grabs the wrist of someone that was reaching to touch him, maybe kill him and loot his dead body for all his meaningless items. He forces himself to open his eyes and brush past the massive ache and rusty limbs that seemed way too heavy to handle—else he would die from being unguarded.
A blurry face was in front of him, frustrating that his eyes couldn't focus faster to make out who the hell this person was. They were adorned in the same clothes as him, the blaring green light on his neck and a bulky black vest—a reminder that he’s still in this godforsaken hell and that no angel came to save him. Ivory skin was clean of any blood but scratches and scars were visible on their face. He curls his fingers around the wrist tightly now, death could be staring straight at his face.
“Shit! Juyeon, your fucking grip— let me go!” The stranger releases a pained sound, trying to pry Juyeon’s fingers off of him.
His fingernails sink deeper in retaliation when his name is mentioned. He wasn’t Juyeon anymore, all he has is a number to prove his existence and they, whoever this person is knew his name and refers to it casually instead of the number he goes by.
Juyeon continues to imprint his nails into the stranger’s wrist and if he were any better he would let go the second he touched the other’s skin and apologize profusely like the timid person he was. But that was Juyeon before all this shit came spiraling down, before he lost who he was, before he started to kill the people around him. It didn’t matter, he doesn’t care, he needs to kill this person now.
“Who—” He manages to rasp out, mouth seeped in cracks and dryness like sand was rubbed in between it, “t-the hell are…”
He looks around frantically for a weapon, a sharp object, blunt surface, just anything to get himself away.
“Juyeon!” The stranger’s free hand was releasing Juyeon’s iron hold on him with a surprised strength—it came off with a hiss and an ache on the wrist. The face came into view when the other grabbed his shoulders to shake him out of it.
“Juyeon, you need to calm the fuck down! I’m not going to hurt you for fucks sake.” That face materializes through his brain and he comes to a sudden realization of how he hasn’t recognized him yet immediately. It brings him back, back in that dingy classroom when everyone changed from their gym clothes, stench reeking of hormonal boys and pubescent sweat. A voice, so loud and blaring, always stood out the most with his cackling charms and obnoxious laughter, but even past that it was covered in honey and charms.
He’s beautiful, Juyeon thinks. He tries hard to not be such a creep since he can hear Eric saying something about a restraining order on him, but he couldn’t help himself to have his eyes drawn to the boy whose hazel locks gleamed with spun gold and cheeks ever-so rosy with love painted on it. His imaginations were too far-fetched of lasting desire, considering the fact that Juyeon was dull compared to Hyunjae.
“Dude, you need to stop staring otherwise you’ll burn a hole through Hyunjae.” So maybe Eric was right about Juyeon being way too occupied by a classmate that barely looks at him and that he should focus on the current state of his life and build up his academics.
“Huh?” Eric takes his place beside him at the lunch table, sliding over a grape juice box, even though Juyeon doesn’t like grape juice, but the younger knows Juyeon isn’t too picky.
“Is it obvious?” His voice in a mere whisper as his eyes are still locked onto how Hyunjae’s lips curl when someone at his table made a not-so funny joke.
Eric looks at him with such a dumbfounded question that he might just knock some sense into the other. “No, it is definitely not obvious how your eyes gush out hearts and rainbows every time you look at him, so go ahead, keep staring.”
Juyeon tears his gaze away to look at the juice box in front of him, he pouts hopelessly when he stabs the straw into the drink. “C’mon, hyung, it’s been a year and you’re already in your 2nd year. You’ve been waxing poetic about him since the day he picked up your pencil or whatever.”
“He picked up my book actually, even complimented the cover that you so made fun of.” Eric gives him an Eric look he knows too well, all condescending and snappy. “Okay, maybe it has been a year.”
“You should, oh I don’t know, ask him out?” Juyeon snaps his head towards that, mouth agape like a fish for air.
“M-me?! No!”
It’s a simple crush, truly, that will all it ever be. A longing from afar and Juyeon might even characterize it as just admiring a piece of art that belongs in the staples of the public eye. He knows he is just a lowly underclassman, most would disregard him for being so smart and taking higher classes with the seniors, but Hyunjae never did. Though the times Hyunjae may smile or say good job to him was a little on the low side, Juyeon still appreciates how effortlessly caring the other is. Maybe one day when he’s had the guts to look into Hyunjae’s eyes with something more than attraction, he can say the words he repeats so often in his dreams, but that will probably stay in his dreams.
“Are you sane now? You have gotten bulkier than me but I’m sure I can outrun you if you pull something.” Hyunjae’s hair still stayed the same when Juyeon last saw him before the beginning of this, the ends trickling golden brown over his eyes. His vest outlined the number 24 with a little red staining the corners of it. He’s still beautiful, and Juyeon hates that.
“Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of Juyeon to get his attention. “Am I going to do the talking now? I know I talk a lot, but I really do not want to be holding up one-sided conversations. I saved your life, the least you can do is try to talk to me.”
Juyeon sits up to his fullest at that, the blood rushing downwards from his head. Hyunjae looks at him in a form of sympathy and he wants to wipe it all off. He was saved? By what or by who? And the fact that his savior is the person he last expected to ever want him alive. The person he so dearly replaced adoration with hatred for.
“So what about Juyeon?” Juyeon knows this was stupid, he’s way too far gone now. He was on his merry way to buy a drink at the vending machines that just so happened to be near the place where the school cameras couldn’t see anyone. A perfect place to be hidden in plain sight. And now here he stands at the machines, not even paying attention to the drink selections, eavesdropping on the conversation where he can see a couple upperclassmen in that secluded spot. They said his name so to Juyeon it was a given right for him to listen in.
“What about him?” His ears perk up to the specific tone he knows all too well, out of his eye he can see a puff of smoke fleeing into the air. A frown takes over his face when he realizes who was talking about him. Hyunjae’s group of friends weren’t the best people to be around and everyone at this school knows not to be around them.
He hears another response after a long drag of a cigarette, “I think you should have a taste of him if you’re not satisfied. I mean Sooyoung is like a 10, but I guess your dick can’t get wet to her. And besides, sweet boy Juyeon looks at you like a fucking kicked puppy and willing to do anything for you seriously. So why don’t you go for it, huh?”
It leaves a bad taste on his tongue and an ache in his body. Has it been that obvious for Juyeon’s long pining and now people know, they know and most likely Hyunjae knows too. He wants to walk away, forget this ever happened so that he could keep his blissful ignorance.
“No, I’m not going to get my dick wet to anyone, if anything you should be focusing on your dry spell, Kwan.”
“Hey! What the hell? I’m trying to help you get some action!”
“And I can get plenty, so please just fucking drop it.” His voice reaches red and Juyeon’s never witnessed the charming Hyunjae lose his cool.
The group of friends laugh in a mocking unison, “then prove it, Jae. Get some action from Juyeon then.”
“Fuck no.”
“What’s your deal?”
“There is none and you’re being weird.” He sees Hyunjae pick up his bag, wanting to leave, but Kwan stops him short before stepping away from the hidden corner.
“You’re always telling us to stop talking about him the minute Juyeon comes up and that’s something weird. What do you have to hide, Jae?”
“Absolutely shit.”
“He’s your fling or something? You have him saved up for you, or for some of us?” The bastard clearly tries to provoke Hyunjae and Juyeon wishes he could just knock him out.
“No— what the fuck. Yah, you keep saying random ass shit, what are people going to think about me?”
“You, Jae? Are you disgusted to be around him?”
Hyunjae stays silent and Juyeon breathes a bit slowly.
“Is that why? You don’t like him? I bet he’s fucking annoying.”
He’s not responding and Juyeon thinks his heart stops for a moment. His friends erupt in laughter again, something wasn’t right.
“Maybe you’re right.”
Juyeon gulps down the bile he feels bubbling with the shivers tracing along his back. His heartbeat thumps in his throat too loudly for him to hear.
“Maybe I have never liked him. He’s a fucking nobody, and I wouldn’t even go for that. He doesn’t exist to me so he doesn’t exist to any of you, remember that.”
He doesn’t know what he expected, was he expecting Hyunjae to defend him? In front of his clique that could so easily make Juyeon’s life harder. Or was it actually the true Hyunjae speaking, the one with harsh intonations so far from the image of a loving person Juyeon conjured up. He hears the faint sound of a cig falling and the crunch of the gravel as it’s being dimmed out. He needs to leave before they find him here, but his legs stay rooted in front of the vending machines with no place to go.
He turns his head when the footsteps approaching stop and he doesn’t know what overcame him when his eyes sting red and throat burns with a thousand fires. Hyunjae stands, with no inch of remorse or regret for what he said on his face. He wasn’t sorry, and he’ll never be sorry. He stands soulless and stoic waiting for what Juyeon has to spew like he’s there to absorb it all and baste in it.
Juyeon bites the inside of his cheek till he feels the metallic blood, he bites because he needs to feel something besides this numbing pain. He blinks his eyes desperately to not let the tears fall, but it betrays him when a wetness is splashed on his cheeks with a wave of salty emotions overfilling him. He doesn't want to be here, he doesn’t want to see him again. He wants to cry, scream, yell, punch, for being so fucking oblivious of who the real Hyunjae is. He never knew him like he thought he did and he was a fool for expecting Hyunjae to ever see anything in him when the other has also never known him.
He wants to run away and escape everything, he wants to tell Eric and have him say ‘I told you so‘ as he takes Juyeon in a comforting embrace. But more importantly he wants to say something to Hyunjae even if his past self didn’t have a single ounce of courage and was left with blushes and stutters every time he approached him. He bares himself to the person that owned his heart for so long, but never wanted it in the first place. He’s said a lot of hateful things, contrary to his personality, to people in the past but none of it was really true.
“I don’t know what I ever saw in you.” He spits out with all his burning and broken pieces, piercing and scattered all over, he means it this time.
“Save– You saved me?” His head was rattling inside now, it was refusing to help Juyeon recollect what actually happened before he woke up.
Hyunjae notices the dryness in Juyeon’s voice and stands up to grab a saved water canteen in his supplies. He stretches out the offered water to him, but all Juyeon can do is stare tentatively. Hyunjae rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh and takes a swig of the canteen, proving to the other that it wasn’t spiked, poisoned, or a murder weapon of any type. He throws it at Juyeon’s chest, water sprinkling out a bit and a muted thud when it lands in his lap.
“Yes, I found you and you were laying on death’s doorstep. So I fucking saved you, dragged you, carried you.” Juyeon takes in the information before drinking the rest of the water that floods relief over him. “And the damn vest adds like an extra 10 pounds.”
Juyeon admits he missed the comfort of having another person around him, he’s been alone for a week straight with no human interaction—more people are dead and areas are void of life. Though he dismisses that feeling when Hyunjae is the one yapping away.
“Why would you save me?” He asks incredulously, there had to be a greater reason for Hyunjae to even risk himself.
“I was hoping for a thank you and then I would say, oh you’re so welcome, you know.”
“Great, you saved me. Want a gold medal? I guess congratulations for being my fucking savior?”
“I’m not an insufferable bad guy.” Ironic, Juyeon thinks he’s about to squeeze the life out of the bottle he’s holding. Hyunjae eyeballs him like he’s trying to read his mind or gauge the situation. It didn’t feel right, no one goes saving other players—they’re literally fighting to the death.
“Did you want something from me? Is that why you saved me? The all-righteous Hyunjae.” He wasn’t going to give Hyunjae what he needed and he wasn’t going to fall into this trap laid for him. No one gets far in this game with helping without an incentive, stacks of debts and deals to be paid off with your own life.
“I-I can’t save anyone?” He asks in disbelief and Juyeon tries not to seethe with anger.
“No.” Juyeon deadpans, “because saving someone comes with a cost. Even your own life, so what the hell you want.”
Hyunjae shifts his gaze to the concrete with a stabbing silence that makes goosebumps rise with the hairs on his neck. Silence and Hyunjae don’t mix at all and certainly don’t fall in the same sentence, just like oil and water.
“If this is your messed up plan to get me to do something for you, think twice about who the fuck you’re asking and keep me out of it.” Juyeon scoffs as he stands up to his full height, towering over the crouched body of Hyunjae that stays stuck to the ground, feet molding into the concrete. He’ll spare Hyunjae his mercy because, honestly, he could grab the stray brick near the wall, cracked and rough around the edges, to bust through the other’s skull. But he has his morals to keep his mercy.
He spots a hole, big enough to fit a human that leads to the hallways, and starts to head that way. It was stupid of Juyeon to not survey the hallways before entering it—it’s one of the most dangerous parts of this place to be wide open—but he’s willing to doing anything to get out of Hyunjae’s proximity. He kicks away a pile of rubble, the dust proofing in the air, and bends down to half of his length. He turns around to take a look at Hyunjae’s still back, frozen as stone like he had looked Medusa straight in the eye. He was disappointed, maybe that he didn’t get an offer to stay like his bumbling 15-year-old self would jump to it right away. Juyeon knows how it was so useless to ever think that and Hyunjae isn’t the person who would do that ever.
“I don’t fucking exist to you and you don’t exist to me. Remember that.” Hyunjae should’ve left him to die, the pain of seeing his face again hurts too much to bear when those words he uttered in the heat of summer with smoke lingering on his tongue. It only reminds how he wasn’t enough, he knew he wasn’t enough even for someone as high status like Hyunjae.
He takes a deep breath before exiting the room into the unknown darkness of the halls and the iridescent light of his collar giving the only color to his dull gray self. He hopes that he leaves Hyunjae behind with the betrayal of his heart and a thousand regrets buried underneath the dead bodies he’s killed.
—
It was probably ill-advised for Juyeon to be mindlessly walking around with a headache, which he assumes could be concussed. He feels groggy, his vision blurring ever so often only for him to focus to prevent himself from collapsing. Maybe he should’ve stayed with Hyunjae for a couple more minutes before he left abruptly or at least stolen some of his supplies.
It’s still a puzzle of how Juyeon really ended up in the care of Hyunjae, he doesn’t know if he got into a fight prior and got knocked out, or he supposedly fainted from the dehydration effects. He was scouting for supplies, either prying it off of dead owners or scouring the rooms of this endless place of a maze. He hears a harsh blinking sound that apparently is coming from his collar and not his brain conjuring up random sounds to throw him off. His hands come up to touch the glass screen of the LED lights and an image is projected in front of him.
SUPPLY DROP: AREA 14
The display disappears in the air as Juyeon digests the words. He’s witnessed a couple of these messages before whenever he was in close proximity to a supply drop-off. These areas were always marked as the danger zones, there’s no telling how many players will be there ready to kill.
He strangled the last guy there. recognized him as someone from the younger classes that always looked up to the upperclassmen with a heart of innocence—similar to Juyeon himself. It was hard to have him plead as Juyeon tightened the grip on his throat with his arm and to feel the muscle constrict in and out. It was hard to see the kid’s eyes to be drained, void of any light and the bit of hope fading. This game only kills and Juyeon does what he needs to do to survive.
His hands reach up to rub his eyes. Focus. Juyeon takes in where is his, the floors, the ceilings, the walls, even the wires that were strung in the air. He spots a crate, worn and battered leaning on the wall. It was a used supply crate, at some point every area in this place has had a supply drop. He swipes the dust off the top, drifting into the air with specks of dirt. These crates had numbers on them, and these numbers could indicate which area Juyeon was in.
The numbers were half-scratched and stained with crimson ichor. The top part of the second number was indistinguishable between 6 and 8. He’s not going to stop here, he knows at least that he’s in area 16 or 18, both are close to 14, still he takes his chances and heads to the dark end of the hallway where it engulfs him.
“Dude?” The voice flies out of his head Juyeon doesn’t look up from his paper, math equations scribbled with rules and too many random letters that shouldn’t even belong in the first place.
“Hyung.” He erases then writes, erases once more and frustrates himself because there’s a stray mark that he scrubs at for far too long that the sheet rips. On instinct he grabs his hair, pulling hard that he may have a bald spot there.
“Juyeon-hyung!” Two hands slam on his desk, shaking him out of his mind. He whips his head up at the disruption. Eric stands there, eyebrows in a pissed mood that Juyeon knows too well, he looks like a dean scolding a child for bad conduct.
“I have been calling your name for the past minute, we were supposed to go check out the new restaurant that opened. So are you here to wait for Hyunjae or what?” That name still brings bitterness to him and he tries not to show any reaction to it.
“Shit,” he looks at the clock above the chalkboard in front, his stay was way overdue. “Sorry— No, I was studying some topics, let me just wrap up okay.” Eric rolls his eyes as he strolls outside the classroom and Juyeon reminds himself to teach that brat about respecting his elders.
Juyeon’s been behind on his work, it was hard to focus when those words reverberated through his mind and the person who uttered them sat in the front of the classroom. He’s stupid, for being hung up on the boy that didn’t have a ounce of care for him. He stuffs his work into his bag, not caring if they were folded by the corners or crinkled, he’ll handle it later.
“Lee Juyeon.” He sighs when he turns around, his foot was a centimeter away from passing the threshold. The class president, Younghoon, has hands on his hips with an arching eyebrow.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He takes a pause, he’s sure he packed up everything. Juyeon blindly pats his patterned pockets and Younghoon breathes out a stressed groan.
“You signed up to do the clean-up, you know, like a week ago. With Hyunjae?” He recalls the moment when no one wanted to volunteer with Hyunjae during his week of clean-up duties. Juyeon, the lovestruck dumbass, took his opportunity and meekly said he had nothing to do. He remembers that fond smile Hyunjae gave when he turned around. It probably wasn’t even genuine Juyeon realizes.
“Right…well something came up and I-I gotta go.” He rubs his nape, hoping that excuse is solid enough, which it most likely wasn’t.
“You literally volunteered and you can’t even do it?” Younghoon’s voice strains, trying hard to not let his fury lash out on Juyeon.
And to the devil’s wishes, Hyunjae enters the room right on time for his cleaning duty. Juyeon assumes the older can feel the tension emitting as he stops midway. “What’s up—”
“Like I said, hyung,” he grits out to Younghoon, not even sparing a glance to how Hyunjae looks over at him. “I have something urgent and if you could, can you take over. I’ll repay you back, please.”
Younghoon takes a contemplative minute to decide, balancing the consequences of either choice. Juyeon just wants to leave the suffocating air when Hyunjae is around, it’s no longer his heart beating out of a crush but out of anxiety.
“Fine, with bread.” That’s all Juyeon needs before he rushes out of the classroom, if this was Juyeon a week ago, his feet would’ve stayed solid to the ground just to admire Hyunjae. His too-persistent self, so infatuated and all for nothing.
Juyeon is persistent, that was his same weakness and strength. He takes so many twists and turns that he loses count, letting his muscle memory of when he roamed the halls like a wanderer for the majority of the time he was here. He walks and walks, leg straining from exertion, but he persists foolishly. He’d rather die trying than die pathetically. He stops in his tracks with a white peeled off number, big and bold painted on the wall, of area 15.
I’m close.
The familiar adrenaline runs through him just like how it does whenever he sheds another life away. His legs kickstart into running, he knows where to go finally, the supply-drop wasn’t too far off—his chances of survival might be higher this time.
His mind is out of his body, unreal like he’s a spectator through his eyes. He doesn’t register what happens when his foot gets caught on a wire laid out on the corridor and a whirl of an arrow grazes his cheek ever-so gracefully that it breaks skin. He doesn’t know what happens when his body is propelled forward by the motions and his collar is being tugged harshly from behind to counteract. He doesn’t understand what happens when his back is thrown against the floor and tens of arrows come shooting past to strike the wall behind him, his nose coming at level with the sharp feathers.
The thud of arrows stop after what seems like forever, Juyeon lays flat on the floor still in a daze. A kneeling figure appears to check on him that shakes him out of his state.
“That’s twice now.”
“I really do not want to see your face.” Juyeon groans and pushes Hyunjae’s shoulder harshly to move him away so that he can sit up straight. “Have you’ve been fucking following me?”
“What? No! I mean— technically, maybe.
“But I saw the supply drop message and then I saw your dumbass walking into a very obvious tripwire hook.” Juyeon shuts his eyes tightly, maybe if he chants for him to disappear in his mind, he’ll actually disappear or pretend long enough to forget Hyunjae’s presence.
“And you’re lucky! So lucky that I am so quick to react because you would’ve ended up as a literal porcupine and that would be a sight for sore eyes, for me especially!”
The other is annoyingly insistent that makes Juyeon’s eye twitch when he feels a continuous poking at his side. God, if he had a weapon on him, he'd straight up knock him out—he could with his fists if he had the energy.
“Yah, you can’t ignore what I have to say next.”
“I think I want to, and ignore everything else that comes out, don’t even bother.” Juyeon stands up and Hyunjae follows him up too, he feels like his body is just meant to be on the ground in agony. He peers over at the punctured wall, if Hyunjae was just a second late, that arrow trap would’ve indeed make him a dart board attraction—not a very fun way to die actually.
“I’m trying here, Juyeon,” he sputters out. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences.”
Juyeon sighs and begins to walk away from the one-sided conversation.
“An alliance!”
He halts, a creeping cloud of darkness looms over him as he twists around to spit out, “Fuck no.”
“Juyeon, c’mon, there’s not that many players left and we could actually have a chance of win—”
“The hell with winning, Hyunjae! You know damn well we’re gonna be slicing each other’s throat, spoiler alert, there’s only one winner!” He wants to tear his hair off, he’s not going to spend his days in this prison with Hyunjae when it’s already excruciating enough.
“E-eric escaped!” The mere mention of his best friend being alive and that he actually escaped makes his attention perk up. He waits for the other to continue what he has to say.
“There’s a way to get these collars off without blowing our heads off and Eric is proof of that. I just really need your help.”
“My help? What fucking help do you even need?”
Hyunjae gnaws on his lip, anxious and eyes in thought. “Changmin scours the area where the control room is. I just— need enough time to be in it and disable the collars.”
Of course Changmin would be the real issue here. He’s only had one run-in with the maniac and it involved a fight on top of the heaping dead bodies Changmin killed. He barely lasted with all of his limbs and he would rather keep all of his body parts.
So he raises an eyebrow at what Hyunjae might be asking for. “You want me to distract him basically? Put me out as bait for a psychopathic killer?”
The older retorts quickly. “No! Well— there is no way in hell you’d be able to distract Changmin long enough. Fuck, I couldn’t last out against him for a minute and he was not a big fan of the dick jokes I was saying throughout the fight, like who wouldn’t laugh at a di—”
“Get to the point,” he grimaces at Hyunjae’s crude humor that should’ve stayed behind in the childish days of school.
“What I mean is that if I wanted you to take Changmin head on, you’d be dead and of no use to me. So I’d rather have an ally that is fully able-bodied to aid me, you know like, spies, agents, the James Bond shit but we’re in a death game so like Hunger Games-James Bond shit.”
“You,” Juyeon points to himself and then to Hyunjae. “Want me alive? As a teammate by definition.”
Hyunjae nods in response, “Yes, I suppose that is what being in a team is.”
“And why me? Why choose me out of the remaining people? You don’t think I can’t just kill you right now?” It brings him back to the similar question he asked.
Why did Hyunjae save him?
He notices the question nagging inside Hyunjae’s mouth, burning and poisoning. The brunette avoids his eyes just like before, silent like before, like he saved Juyeon without hesitating at all. Until his demeanor changes once he forms an answer and stares straight at Juyeon. The endless colored abyss yields such force that sucks Juyeon to the point he could feel the blood pump in his chest.
“I know you can kill me, I won’t doubt that, but I’m taking the fucking risk. You need my help just as much as I need yours. We won’t make it out of this hell if we depend on ourselves, so I’m giving you a fucking chance to live.”
Juyeon never saw how Hyunjae’s gaze was soulless, unnerving to look into knowing that it was filled with life before they were trapped in here. He darts automatically to the rustle of Hyunjae’s hand resting by his side and a glint of silver awaits him. The blade was serrated like the devil’s teeth, the surface stained with a faded blood that tells its been used far too many times. He could take on the other if he tried, but his body is so close to deterioration—leaving him with not a lot of options to choose from if he wants to preserve his life.
Juyeon knows this is dumb, how can even stand Hyunjae beside him if he couldn’t handle him in a couple sentences. He feels pure hatred for the other player, for this fucked-up game, for how he’s been treated in and out of this place. He thinks over a thousand times in that moment where his answer lingers on his tongue. He takes a step forward like he’s crossing over the threshold to hell and Hyunjae doesn’t flinch from it like he knows what Juyeon’s answer would be.
“Mess up and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Hyunjae held the playing cards and Juyeon was going to play into it, willingly.
—
“Say, why’d you go into area 15, you do know that most of the area is trapped right?” They’re back in the room Juyeon awoke in, seemingly Hyunjae’s hideout, and Hyunjae has been the ever-so gracious one to share his resources to a dying Juyeon. The starving man gulps down whatever packaged food he was chewing and blinks slowly to the question. It was obvious on his face—he never knew.
Hyunjae makes a shocked noise like he’s been told about Juyeon’s dirty secret of teenage crushes and provocative midnight thoughts. “You didn’t know?! I thought you were fucking suicidal waltzing straight into the area.”
“I don’t think you’ve realized but I’ve been walking around like a dead corpse, information is hard to get by. Hell, I don’t even know how many fucking players are left.” Hyunjae, for a split-second, glares at him and Juyeon doesn’t know why, but the other then fills him in—because that’s what allies do.
“Chanhee has that place locked down with traps, he’s lucky being so isolated that no one bothers stepping into his control, living like a king.” Juyeon thinks that statement is ironic at best, no one can really live comfortably like a king here.
“There’s only less than 20 players, though, I expected there to be a lot more.”Wow. It really is near the end of the game and Juyeon shudders at the thought of it. It’s been weeks, it started with 100 at first and now more than 60 eliminated, more than 60 lives taken by their former classmates. It makes the food he swallowed uneasy in his stomach.
“And Changmin— well he’s hunting, of course. He wiped out the entire sevens and I would like to see the light of day with my body intact.” Juyeon agrees with a non-committal hum. He’s lost at what to do next, with the threat of Changmin slicing his way through and his domain holding the control room—both of them are screwed.
“I have so gratefully devised something while you were having your sleeping beauty moment.”
Hyunjae stands up urgently like he’s been waiting to show Juyeon a new toy. He swipes the concrete dust off his pants before heading over to a tipped over desk to slide open the top, hollow inside and retrieves a folded square. The other realizes what it is until it’s unfolded and laid out before him on the floor. It's torn and creased at the edges like it’s been stomped and folded, multiple times. Juyeon didn’t know these existed, or was even allowed for them to have as he stares at the detailed map labeled with area numbers in scratchy, red marker and question marks of uncharted locations.
“Got it from a dead body.” Hyunjae says it, tone colored with the pride of looting, but Juyeon couldn’t judge him—he’s done it a lot.
The older one points to a small circle encapsulating the words ‘AREA 19.’ “We’re here.”
He then trails his finger across the map, the zeros, labeled in the same manner, “I believe the next supply drop will be around this area. I think we should head there and stock up before making our way to the control room.”
Juyeon raises an eyebrow, “what makes you think so?”
Hyunjae takes a moment to form his thoughts without sounding crazy—though he already has been to Juyeon. “I’ve been tracking down the supply drops and the recent ones before 14 were 58, 45, 33, and 24. It’s a pattern and if it continues the next one would be in the zeros.”
It makes sense compared to any jumble Hyunjae has ever spewed in the little time they’ve teamed up, he gives the older one the credit for it he supposes. “Where’s the control room then?”
The questionable mastermind of this plan blankly blinks at him like it completely flew over his head, so Juyeon rephrases. “You do know where the control room is?”
He blinks once more in the stagnant stillness.
“You—you don’t know?!” He’s left aghast as he takes back his compliment for him. “You made a whole ass plan surrounding this stupid control room! And you don’t even know?!”
The other raises his hands to save himself from the embarrassment, “I-In my defense— the control room is really well hidden and has a lot of mechanisms to get past it!”
“Then how do we fucking find it? How did Eric find it?”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this.”
“That’s kind of a high standard you’re asking for.”
Hyunjae is left with a sour expression like he was betrayed by the fact Juyeon didn’t trust him, humorous, and Juyeon notices how his lips downturn into a soft curve. What the hell? He averts his gaze away to get the protruding thought out of his head, but seeing how dejected Hyunjae looked brought some former past self of him. He sighs.
“Fine let’s go, we can handle this when we get to the area.” He sees Hyunjae sprout up with glee like he’s seen rainbows and fairies appear—it makes his eyebrows twitch.
—
Traveling to the different areas of this massive place can take days. They started in 19 and just reached area 10 with a relieved sigh from both after 2 days. It would’ve been shorter if Hyunjae didn’t mess up with the directions when going through the narrow shortcuts he so animatedly pointed out that made Juyeon think he was definitely going to die with how dark it was and the loose wires sparking close to his body.
Tired was an understatement and he hoped that the older would actually pick up on his slow pace behind him.
“We should take a break.”
Thank god.
They settled in a desolate room with the glass windows busted through and minimal debris in it. It was good enough to lay low here and regain their energy. Juyeon slumps down to the ground, the concrete bricks providing support to his aching back. He eyes Hyunjae grabbing his supplies out of his player inventory, water and food materializing with a flash of green light—Juyeon wonders how much he has left since he is providing for another person.
He checks his inventory by pressing on his chest to see if there was anything that he missed and, to his disappointment, only a medical supply and a rusty crowbar laid in there. The crowbar would be useful if it doesn’t break before Juyeon strikes.
“Here.” He looks up from the ground and Hyunjae is holding out packaged food and a metal water canteen, the image similar to when Hyunjae handed him water after he awoke.
Juyeon is not as hesitant as he was, but his fingers did linger for a millisecond before clasping his hand around the given supplies. Hyunjae takes out his own rations and sits against the wall but a couple feet away from Juyeon. It makes his shoulders tense up on reflex, the presence irking yet familiar.
“Do you still resent me?”
Juyeon snorts softly before coming face to face with Hyunjae, there’s probably a scowl painting his face right now. “You could say that”
“I know how you feel about what happened in the past—“
“How I feel?” Juyeon is bewildered at this point, reaching absolute insanity. “How do I fucking feel, tell me. Because all I know is that I hated you before and I still hate you now.”
“We’re going to have to get over the past and work together, Juyeon.” Enough of this bullshit.
“Was it fun?” Juyeon’s eyes became stern, fully staring into the other’s eyes. He admits that he can’t count the times he’s avoided looking into his ally’s eyes without the residing hatred bubbling with every breath he takes.
“What?”
“Why are you acting as if you don’t know? Was it fun watching me suffer for the past 2 years? I am exactly what you said, a nobody, I never fucking existed. Are you proud that everything went your way? What you say is what becomes the word. Hell, all the shit everyone said and did to me, they didn’t care if I was hurt because I was nothing to them.”
If he couldn’t kill Hyunjae because of this stupid allyship, he might as well put all his frustrations on the one who started it all. It was all Hyunjae’s fault.
“Does all he does is study?”
“He’s always been like that.”
“That’s why he doesn’t even have any friends, doesn’t even have time for them, all he cares about is that number one spot. Too bad he can’t even get it, you think if we become friends with him he’ll give us the answers?”
“As if, I heard from Hyunjae that he doesn’t care for people like us. Thinks he’s better than us. Fucking smart-ass.”
“He’s fucking poor too, needs the grades more than money.”
“What if we pay him for our homework?”
“Dude, no I wouldn’t even spend it on him.”
Juyeon’s eyebrow twitches, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He’s used to the empty threats and sneering voices and continues writing down his notes. They were right in some way, he doesn’t have time to be wasting breath on people like them. Everyone shows their true colors one way or another in this school.
He only has a couple months before he graduates and he’s hanging onto it for dear life. Two years of ache was enough for him and he’s ready to leave behind the Juyeon that never had a partner in labs, or the isolated Juyeon in the hidden spot of a library corner to eat lunch. He’s gotten a couple punches thrown at him, bruises and scratches from run-ins with bullies that he couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. Other than that, he went on in school unnoticed, yet people kept his name in his mouth, he just couldn’t disappear fully.
Of course, he’s heard about every rumor, the ones stemming from a bastard’s son to a teacher’s dick-sucker to get good grades. Word spread around how Hyunjae hated Juyeon, the battle between the top students, poor feeding off of the rich, Juyeon sabotaging him, Hyunjae beating him up for fun. They were all so wrong, people needed gossip to run their mouths, to keep themselves entertained when in reality Hyunjae never had a good bone in his body and acts just as fake as he looks—his cheerful smiles and words laced with beauty were all for show, Juyeon thinks.
“I heard the laughters, the rumors, their fucking stares at me when I walk down the hallways. I knew every piece of shit they talked behind their hands. I was outcasted— but I was grateful at least because I never liked anyone at this school either way.”
Juyeon speaks with anger, with ichorous red that streams in viscosity, oozing and thick. It’s such a wonder how he was the purest image of a student, the soft-spoken him was ripped and torn out of his innocence. He wants this to all be over, but he sees a resemblance of guilt on Hyunjae’s face, lips downturned and eyes faced to the ground—an image he so wishes he saw on that day because he might've, no, would’ve forgave him and all his problems would be solved.
“And you,” he scoffs when Hyunjae has the guts to look him in the eye again. Though he holds back his tongue before he spills the words “I cared for you and you were the worst of them all.”
“Forget it, we should be going anyway.” Juyeon rises from the stiff floor and makes his way out of the room, but he’s stopped with a force gripping the sleeve on his elbow.
“Juyeon.” Hyunjae’s voice is wavering on the fence of pride and guilt, baring his true emotions. “I’m sorry— for all of that happening to you. I didn’t—”
His voice trails off and Juyeon sucks in a breath when he’s confronted with this, was this what he really wanted? An apology to forget everything that happened, but no it couldn’t be that easy to leave behind. It was different to hear this, especially from Hyunjae, who was so rambunctious in making himself known to the class and asserting his logic as truer than anyone else’s.
“If you want to feel regret, save it after the damn collars are off. Being fucking sorry won’t change shit— I went through years without one and I definitely do not need one.”
And with that, the pulling on the fabric is loosened to a mere nothingness. He doesn’t say a word when Hyunjae takes the lead in front and Juyeon follows him.