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Min-su never liked Thanos. Not from the moment they were tossed into the twisted arena of the Games together, where alliances were made and broken like matchsticks, and trust was thinner than the paper slips everyone used to cast their vote.
When it ended—when x had won the vote—Thanos smiled that smug, knowing smile like it had all gone according to his plan. He didn’t even try to hide it. He thrived in the chaos, treating it like some kind of joke. While the rest of them crawled out with their souls frayed, Thanos walked out whistling.
Min-su remembered. Every moment.
---
Months passed.
The world moved on. Winners were celebrated. Losers were forgotten.
But not by Min-su.
He saw Thanos again one summer night outside a roadside diner, leaning against a rusted motorcycle like a villain out of some B-movie, sipping a soda and watching the world with that same careless grin.
And something in Min-su snapped.
No words were exchanged. Just motion. Swift, clean, practiced. A fist right in the jaw. Thanos slumped to the pavement like an overconfident statue. Still smug, even unconscious.
---
When Thanos woke up, he was tied up in the trunk of Min-su’s old Chevy Nova, the desert wind whipping past the open windows as the car barreled down a stretch of empty highway.
“I thought you’d gotten over me,” Thanos croaked, blinking up at the stars through a gap in the canvas that had been thrown over him.
Min-su didn’t answer.
“You know, there are other ways to say ‘I missed you,’” Thanos drawled.
Min-su glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Shut up.”
Thanos smirked, undeterred, eyes glassy with adrenaline and half-laughter. “Driving with my darling faster than I should,” he said, voice like honey mixed with gasoline.
Min-su gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel harder.
The truth was, the anger wasn’t just about the Games. It was about how Thanos never seemed to care. About how he floated above it all. How he treated everything like it was just another play, another role, another mask.
But now, with Thanos tied up and the highway stretching ahead into the night, there was no mask left. Just Min-su, his rage, and the man who’d never stopped smiling through the blood and fire.
---
“You gonna kill me?” Thanos asked, his voice almost curious.
Min-su didn’t answer.
He just pressed harder on the gas.
---
Somewhere along the drive, silence fell between them. Not peace—never peace. But something rawer. Something real.
And maybe that was what Min-su had been looking for all along.
Not justice. Not revenge.
Just truth.
And Thanos, damn him, had given it with a smile.