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"Who are you?"
Gihun asked, his hand trembling as he held the gun. The frontman knelt in front of him, his eyes cast down beneath his angular mask. His whole demeanor seemed... wrong. Like he had given up before Gihun even stormed in his quarters, gun in hand.
"Does it matter?" Came the voice, strained behind the mask.
"Yes. Of course it does." Gihun wouldn't kill someone he didn't even know the face of. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't like the man in front of him.
"Just kill me, Gihun"
The sound of his name startled him. Of course the frontman knew his name... He had been following him for years, plus he was a player in the games before. Still, he didn't think the frontman would ever address him by his first name.
"Who... who are you?" He asked again, weaker this time.
"It doesn't matter. Trust me, Gihun. I deserve to die. That's all you need to know." The frontman was looking at him now, the eyes of the mask boring into him. His voice sounded... almost pleading... and like he was crying. Was the frontman... begging him?
"I know you're not a killer. You've never been. Not during your game, not after... And you won't be one after this." The frontman continued, now leaning towards the gun.
Why was he doing this? Did the frontman want to die? Did he want to be killed by Gihun?
"Stop. Stop doing this" Gihun said, lowering the gun "If you want me to kill you so bad, then tell me who you are. I'm not going to shoot someone I don't even know the face of"
The frontman froze, keeping still while looking at Gihun. Since the man gave no sign that he was going to move or try to fight him for the gun, Gihun knelt in front of him, extending his hands towards the other man's face. The frontman jumped at his movement, seemingly scared of being revealed, but held his ground while Gihun's hands made contact with the mask. He pushed the hood out of the way, revealing waves of dark brown hair, way softer than he'd imagined. The hair reminded him of Young-Il, the friend he'd made in such a small amount of time in this hellhole, and that the man in front of him now had killed ruthlessly. Angrily, he searched the clasp of the mask behind the frontman's head. When he unclasped it, the man looked down, his hair covering his face a bit.
Gihun stood, not wanting to be on the same ground as the man now. This was it. Now was the time to finally see the face of the monster who'd killed his friends, who trapped him and made him play death games until he was no longer himself, no longer even a person...
And then he looked up. The first thing Gihun recognized were his eyes - brown, deep, and so soft... Seemenly filled with unsaid things. Young-Il. The man that Gihun couldn't explain why, but felt like he had known forever.
"...No"