Work Text:
Gi-hun is being watched.
He knows that much.
He wonders if it’s him. The Front man. The man that haunts his dreams with gore, tragedy, and injustice. Whoever it is, they wear the same all black outfit in the small glimpses that Gi-hun catches through the security cameras outside the Pink Motel.
It’s his best and worst purchase.
Mr. Kim had directed him towards a building that was available, and Sunshine Capital helped him make the purchase even if he had no idea what he was doing in the process. As dingy and rundown as it looked, the building was spacious and inconspicuous. It was easy to surveil, allowed him to amass a collection of guns from the black market, and most importantly: it was quiet.
He often wondered why the owner sold it for such a decent price. Despite how big the interior was, and the fact that they just left so much furniture for Gi-hun to keep– they seemed eager to be rid of the motel.
“It’s haunted,” Mr. Kim had laughed about it over lunch with him one day, before Gi-hun had actually decided to purchase it, “Can you believe it?” Gi-hun didn’t, and it seemed like Mr. Kim didn’t either because he laughed as he described the things that made it “haunted.”
“The last person who owned it saw lights flickering every night and heard footsteps from inside the rooms sometimes.” Mr. Kim light-heartedly warned him. It didn’t matter. The price, location, and size of the motel was perfect in Gi-hun’s eyes. He wouldn’t be staying in it for too long anyways, he just needed somewhere to keep all of his stuff. A base of operations of sorts.
It’s true, he has seen the lights flicker several times. Doors open even when he remembers them being closed. Gi-hun chooses to blame it on faulty wiring, electrical issues, and his own sleep deprivation making him more forgetful. That or his aging mind.
To be safe, a little bit after Gi-hun bought the motel, he had security cameras installed.
He hasn’t caught a ghost– but he has caught… someone. Someone who is related to the games. Gi-hun wouldn’t have even noticed if he wasn’t near the cameras when it happened, it makes him feel powerless being as unaware as he was then.
The first time he saw the stranger, they lingered outside. Gi-hun wouldn’t have paid any mind to the person, after all– plenty of people like dark clothing and plenty of people loiter… even the pink belt which Gi-hun caught a glimpse of– as close to the pink jumpsuits of the guards as it was– could be explained as eccentric clothing… but, the person had stood there, a long distance from the camera but still in view. The distinct mask with a white square had Gi-hun bolting to the front of the building, gun in hand ready to finally get some answers. Was this an invitation? To talk?
There’s no time to think. He dashes down the stairs and almost trips over the carpet. Fumbles the lock and swings open the door ready to shoot.
There’s nothing but wind and dark clouds ready to turn into rain outside.
Gi-hun carefully moves outside, his finger moves into a safer position on the gun– no longer on the trigger but expecting to be. He closes the door behind him and scans the area outside. He checks the alleyway closest to the motel, down the street, and basically does circles around the area. There is no one.
Gi-hun finds nothing.
He checks the safety on his gun and lowers it to his side. Disappointed, but relieved. Had it come to that, there was a chance that they might have also sent a team to eliminate him. One hand gun wouldn’t be enough. He’d be shot, dead, and his body in the ocean.
It infuriates him.
All Gi-hun has is a glimpse on his monitor. It’s so surreal that he has to replay it, both on the monitor and in his mind. He has to pinch himself– to assure that, no, Gi-hun is not dreaming. This is real. Someone from the games just visited him. They know where he is, they know.
It’s not too shocking, the Front man has called him before. Gi-hun knows they have eyes everywhere, in every corner. He just hopes they don’t have one in the motel.
He runs his eyes through that video several times. Notices every detail, every slight movement– commits the masked person to memory.
It didn’t seem like the person was threatening him, but that could also be a threat. A way of casually dropping that they knew where Gi-hun is. Gi-hun wouldn’t let them in. He couldn’t. Not after everything he’s been through, he can’t let Sang-woo and Sae-byeok’s deaths be in vain. He can’t forget the faces of everyone he met in that game, Ali, Ji-yeong, Mi-nyeo, even the math teacher who raced across the glass. They haunt him worse than any motel ghost.
Gi-hun writes a note to get more cameras, and to secure the motel much, much more tightly.
That night is spent twisting and turning in bed, eventually just lying still and face up to stare at the ceiling while Gi-hun’s mind runs wild. He only thinks about that stranger. Who are they? What did they want? What was their goal?
From the uniform, he assumes their position must be quite high– but he isn’t exactly sure it’s the Front man just yet. It just looks a bit too similar to the uniforms of the guards, only difference being the inverted black and pink. Gi-hun isn’t sure what he expects from someone who would manage the brutal deaths of four hundred and fifty six people every year, but he assumes the Front man would look more… distinct.
Still, the visit does send a chill down his spine. They know. They know where he is. He didn’t find them, they found him. The only thing he can do now is keep them out. Away.
Gi-hun calls Mr. Kim in the morning– while still in bed, his eyes droopy. He asks for him to pick up more security equipment the next time he comes around. “Are you sure?” Mr. Kim sounds laid back, and even yawns like he’s just gotten out of bed, “What you have there is already a lot… we could get you some men to just watch the building if you’re so paranoid.” It’s a good suggestion, but he’s not sure if he can trust many people right now.
Mr. Kim tries to compromise with him, like Gi-hun’s gone insane and they need to take away a knife from him. Still, the other man accepts when Gi-hun doubles down on the request, “Someone came by last night. I need to make sure they can’t get in. If they get in–” his shaky voice catches in his throat and he has to cough the rest out, “...it’s all over.”
He’s not sure if Mr. Kim wholeheartedly believes him, but he appreciates that the other man puts up with him. Maybe it’s the money.
It’s probably the money.
But he’s grateful nonetheless.
Mr. Kim stutters, but he agrees without questioning any further. A note of pity in his voice.
Gi-hun thanks him and ends the call. His eyes struggle to stay open, but that’s fine. He’ll grab some coffee or wash his face. He can’t fall asleep now. Not when there could be an intruder waiting to come in. One moment of weakness and it could all be over before his plans even begin.
He moves back to the monitor. Expecting to see the guard in the black uniform again. To see the mask with a white square on it.
Nothing. The front looks empty. No passerbys, but a few chirping birds and a stray cat come into view. Gi-hun sighs. It’s peaceful and there aren’t any signs of that person.
That’s good. Maybe they won’t risk being out in broad open daylight. It gives Gi-hun time to prepare.
Gi-hun decides to take a shower. Rinse off the grime and start anew. Hopefully wake himself up in the process. The steam helps, surrounding him in a comforting warmth that relaxes his tense muscles. Admittedly, it’s been a while. He doesn’t like that the loud water from the shower leads to him being more unaware of the sounds in the motel. Gi-hun can’t hear everything, hearing something is always better than nothing.
And– the strong sounds of the water colliding with the bottom of the shower make him remember that final game. Before, Gi-hun liked to shower with cold water. It always woke him up and released the tension that inevitably came from how he lived previously. Now, it just reminded him of the rain, the wounds, and Sang-woo. Sang-woo, who died for him– who died in the rain. The cold water reignites the scar on his side and hand. It’s why he showers with hot water now, it doesn’t send him back into that harsh rain.
Gi-hun almost doesn’t want to get out. This is the most relaxed he’ll feel for days.
The water running down what remains of his body feels heavenly. His scars still have that lingering soreness– but it’s not as pronounced today.
It keeps him there for a while, thoughtless. Enjoying the moment of peace before his mind becomes haunted again.
Of course, it can’t last forever.
His paranoia is sparked by an unwelcome thought about the masked guard that stood by his door yesterday, and Gi-hun knows what he has to do. The water slows to a pitter patter on his sore muscles until he shuts it completely off. He dries himself and dresses in a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants before going back to the monitors.
Gi-hun runs a hand through his short, choppy hair. It’s still a bit oily, but much better than it was before the shower.
Nothing. There’s no disappointment this time, only anticipation. Gi-hun should have also mentioned motion sensors to Mr. Kim, it’s something he’ll look into later. Then, there’s the issue of people. He won’t just need people now to protect the motel, he’ll need people later for the island.
It’s another thing added to his list.
Gi-hun continues to watch the screen for another few minutes– there’s a nagging feeling of uselessness, like he’s wasting his own time waiting for a ghost. He wonders if it was just a one time thing, if the guard in the black uniform will dare to come back. It’s vexing. Gi-hun decides his time would be better spent taking a walk around the motel. He’ll only wander through the first floor, occasionally stopping near the front door to take a look out the small window opening.
It’ll be good to stretch his legs and it might give him some ideas of where he should secure the motel more.
He’s one step down the stairs when he hears something that sends him back into a frenzy. On the front desk of the motel– the very dusty front desk that hasn’t been touched in a few weeks– lies a bell that customers would ring to call for service. The Pink Motel should have no customers. The front door is locked. Always. Gi-hun never forgets.
So how?
He fumbles at his side, but Gi-hun finds nothing, remembering he left his gun back at his desk. His body runs cold, angry, confused, scared. He’s still a foot on the first step, his other foot at the top of the staircase, frozen. Anger swelling inside of his chest at both himself and the intruder.
His fists ball up and Gi-hun makes a dash towards the bell– towards the front desk, not knowing who to expect: the guard? Or the Front man?
He makes it there and yells, “Who’s there!?” His heart beats so rapidly, it feels as if it were about to jump out of his chest.
There’s no one at the front desk.
Gi-hun checks behind the desk, in all of the nearby rooms, every hiding spot he can think of. Then, he checks the front door. Unlocked, and it seems like the intruder has left through it. His vision goes red, brutally slamming the door and locking it. His anger becomes so explosive, Gi-hun even kicks the air in a moment of undignified fury.
It takes him a few breaths to steady himself.
The cameras must have caught it.
He runs back up– to his room. Goes to the several monitors that watch the motel and replays footage. In the back of the motel is an exit door that Gi-hun believed to be locked. It’s been locked ever since Gi-hun first bought the motel. But… admittedly, its handle is a bit brittle. Easy to break or force its way in through a simple twist.
He feels so stupid.
Even more, when he looks at the recorded time in which this all occurred. While he was showering.
The intruder is the same guard from yesterday.
He walks around several parts of the motel. Turning his head every now and then like he’s admiring the place. He ends up on the same floor as Gi-hun’s room at some point. It makes his blood run cold as the masked guard carefully pulls the door open so as to not make much noise while Gi-hun is in the shower.
Gi-hun checks the next camera. He needs to know what the man was doing in his room. Did he place any bugs? Any recording devices? Why didn’t he just kill Gi-hun when he had the chance? It’s not like he would have been able to really defend himself in the shower…
Gi-hun scoffs. It’s all just a game to them.
He continues watching, eyes sweeping over every movement the other man makes to see if he’s planted anything. Gi-hun knows he’ll have to do a sweep of his own room afterwards, but having a starting point is nice. He watches the guard in the black uniform rummage through his drawer, the one next to the bed– looking at things. Medication, notes, knick knacks that Gi-hun placed in there to think about later. There’s a sharp stop that makes Gi-hun jolt, several dozen thoughts race through his head on what the guard might do next.
Gi-hun watches, in horror, as the other person turns towards the camera that is watching him. Aware that he is being recorded and gives something of a wave. Then, he picks out a box of cigarettes and walks away. Seemingly content with just that box.
No– there must be more, Gi-hun is sure that the man must have done more. He furiously goes back and forth with the footage, replaying the intruder’s every movement. His eyes dart around the screen, there must be something else. Something else that the other was here to do.
Nothing. Nothing aside from a now missing box of cigarettes. Gi-hun doesn’t even have to check his drawer. He doesn’t know what kind of warning this is. If it were a more light-hearted situation, he’d laugh– but under the context that he’s under the surveillance of people who run a death game every year, the humor is lost.
He plays the footage from the other cameras. Watch the guard pass by carelessly through them until he stops at the front desk. He pauses, as if unsure of what he wants to do next– but after a second, rings the bell and leaves.
All while Gi-hun was under a relaxed haze from his shower.
There are many things that linger on his mind that day– the intruder, making sure the back exit door is properly barred off, and adding more security to the motel.
This can’t happen again.
The day after, Gi-hun makes a barrier with a couple of chairs on the back entrance of the Pink Motel and practically turns his whole room upside down before deciding to stay in the other one. He won’t sleep, but he can’t exactly just stay in that previous room knowing it’s been breached. Like the guard’s presence has sullied it.
Still, Gi-hun walks back and forth between his new room and old one to check the monitors. To replay footage. At some point, he might move them to be in the new room– but for now, he’s stressed enough. It’s hardly a comfort, but he’s relieved that the intruder didn’t stumble into his growing gun collection.
Mr. Kim also arrives sometime near the end of the afternoon to deliver some new equipment to be set up and some food as well. “You should eat more. Can’t risk fainting when we finally find the guy,” Mr. Kim says. The recruiter. Gi-hun had forgotten about him for a bit, despite fervently tracking the man down for months now. The guard in the black uniform that showed up at his door scared him half to death and must have made him momentarily forget.
Perhaps he was getting too close, too close to that they needed to send someone in to scare him. Gi-hun wonders if that was why the intruder was sent. The goal being to scare him away from his chase.
Mr. Kim also comes in with some other men to help set up the new cameras, and what Gi-hun assumes to be motion sensors. They work quickly, and don’t question why Gi-hun has baracaded the back door with chairs. Only that it needs to be covered with sensors and heavily surveilled. At least until Gi-hun can get a new door and lock that is much more sturdy, which he’ll ask Mr. Kim for later.
He tells Mr. Kim briefly about the guard who visited him. Speculates on the reasons behind the visit. A threat? For the most part, Mr. Kim treats it seriously and doesn’t ridicule Gi-hun for how insane he sounds.
But he does jokingly ask if maybe it was one of the motel’s ghosts.
Gi-hun shakes his head, sure of what he saw and tries to show Mr. Kim the previously recorded footage.
Only, it’s not there.
“How!? It was right– I saw him on the monitor!” Gi-hun tries to go back to that hour, only to find he’s missing large chunks of footage. It doesn’t make sense. “How?” Mr. Kim looks at Gi-hun then back at the monitor, and something must really scare him because he’s pulling Gi-hun off the monitors quickly to help calm Gi-hun’s rapid breathing with slow pats on the back.
“Boss!” One of Mr. Kim’s workers rush in, an uneven look on his face, urgency in his voice.
“We were working on setting up some cameras in the back, but then we heard something in one of the rooms so we checked it!” The panicked man continues his story, “Then the door just shut behind us and locked us in! We didn’t even see who did it– but no one was there aside from us at the time. Woo-seok and Jae-yeong were on your floor!”
Mr. Kim argues with the two men, but they’re inconsolable. Even more so when Mr. Kim’s other four workers come to check up on the commotion, and one of them confirms that they were outside until they got a call from one of the trapped workers to come back in and let them out. No one can explain what had happened– none of the hotel doors are so flimsy as to close like that. Much less lock by themselves.
Gi-hun just explains it as the men likely accidentally knocked the door shut when they went in, maybe the force of their movements swayed the already set to be locked door and they accidentally locked themselves in.
But which room was like that?
Which room had a door that locked from the outside? On the first floor, there were only a few rooms, and all of them had locks that locked from inside the room.
“Which room was it?” Up to this point, Gi-hun had kept his silence in the frantic conversation, but now even he’s worried.
“It technically wasn’t a room,” one of the men explains, “It was the closet with all of the cleaning supplies in the back.” Gi-hun understands now that one must have been the one with the old brooms, dusty shelves, and bleach smell. He thinks it’s likely that they must have panicked being in there because of the unfamiliar environment. Not to mention it’s cramped. All of that terror probably just led them to unreasonable conclusions.
Yet, it’s hard to miss Mr. Kim’s obvious fright, the uneven breathing and the way his palms become sweaty. The team leaves a bit abruptly, and Mr. Kim wishes him well, even apologizing for the behavior of his workers. Even if he himself is startled.
Gi-hun spends another few days just patrolling his motel. He’d ask for some of Mr. Kim’s men to do the same, but he has a feeling none of them really want to be near it right now due to what happened that day.
Gi-hun gets another call from Mr. Kim when he’s on the first floor, checking out the broom closet those workers got stuck in. It locked from the outside and only had a dim, flickering light bulb as a source of illumination. He can imagine that if he had stumbled into this room before the games, he would have been scared out of his mind too.
Mr. Kim checks up on him one evening, and asks him how the new equipment is working out. Gi-hun responds that it’s been working, that he’s fine. No one has trespassed into the motel so far. That’s all he really cares about, even if his body is beginning to give up on him, the floor underneath morphing due to his lack of sleep.
“Oh yeah– I was talking with Jang-wook earlier. You remember him right? One of the guys that got stuck in that closet,” Mr. Kim explains, “He was scared to death coming out of the motel, but he’s fine now. Even laughing about it.”
Gi-hun stares into the broom closet, slowly turning the stiff knob to check how someone might have gotten stuck in there. He doesn’t pay much attention to what Mr. Kim says until he’s closed the door behind him with the flickering light on to check how someone might have gotten themselves stuck inside. His brain continues to feel like sludge inside his skull.
Briefly, Gi-hun hears a creak from above–
“Gi-hun?”
His attention snaps back to his phone and the conversation, “Yeah– sorry, what were you saying, Mr. Kim?” It takes a lot to stifle the yawn and resist the urge to close his eyes.
“Jang-wook– he wanted to ask you why you had that scary mannequin in there.”
“Mannequin?”
“Yeah, he was yelling about it all day when we got out of there. Said something about it having a weird face. He bumped into it when he was in that closet, the light wouldn’t turn on so he had to use his phone as a light and was almost scared to death. Oh yeah, sorry if we broke it or anything,” Mr. Kim casually says, he laughs throughout certain parts of the story. Amused.
At that moment, all Gi-hun can say is, “Yeah–” and “It’s no problem. Goodnight.” He ends the call quickly to start turning the entire closet upside down. His hands become grimy and dusty with every slow movement. There are a lot of spiders that make him jump when he lifts the bottles of bleach.
Gi-hun knows exactly what that “mannequin” was. Jang-wook and that other man have no idea how lucky they were to have left that room without a bullet in their skull. It sends chills throughout Gi-hun’s body to consider who it could be. Weird mask– it’s either that guard or the front man. He keeps moving around the useless items that sit around in the closet, even knocking down some brooms in the process. Why? Why were they here that day? Was that why Gi-hun couldn’t find those videos of the guard? Did they manage to delete it without Gi-hun noticing?
What the hell was the point of this?
Another creak comes from upstairs and he doesn’t think much of it.
Until he hears a thump. Then, several footsteps.
He’s back.
Gi-hun’s hands rush toward the doorknob– twisting and turning it to open the door. But it doesn’t budge. He tries again, aggravated that it’s not opening. He curses, then kicks the door– kicks it with all his might. Whatever little strength he has left. It only slightly moves. He takes a step back, and rams his side into the door. It’s enough to crack it open by force.
He dashes upstairs, this time with a gun in his hand– finger positioned to move to the trigger at a moment’s notice.
The door to his room is open.
Slowly, Gi-hun steps towards it. The dim muddy yellow lamps which illuminate his motel suddenly become daunting. As if they were inviting Gi-hun to his death. It makes him feel a bit nauseous as he steps closer and closer to the door. The walls don’t help either– their peeling pattern furthering the unease in his stomach.
When he’s close enough, Gi-hun uses his foot to swing open the door slightly. Pointing his gun into the room. The click it makes makes him tense up. He looks around, and turns his head a little bit to look outside the room before stepping in– quickly flipping on the light switch.
There’s no one in the room. The window is open.
Gi-hun was once again, too late.
The realization sends him flying into a rage, he finally lets out the scream he’s been needing to. The grime on his hands suddenly feels much more disgusting as he puts the safety back on his gun and places it down on the small table in the room. The sleep he’s been denying himself comes back to bite him as his eyelids become heavy and the room begins to spin. Gi-hun finds himself stumbling into the bathroom– hoping to at least wash his hands before he crashes into the bed. The water doesn’t do much to ease his sleep deprivation– but he does feel cleaner. He wishes he could change into something else, to not sleep in such dusty clothes, but before he knows it Gi-hun and his rinsed hands find himself inching towards the bed.
Gi-hun falls into a sleep like death.
He meets Sang-woo and Sae-byeok. They never say anything to him. They just look. He yells at them– he’s not sure what, he just does. He can hear his own voice, but never what he’s saying, the sound of rain overpowering everything. In the distance, he can see a figure dressed in all black. He thinks they look dressed like they’re going to a funeral.
He wonders who that person is, even tries to walk past Sang-woo and Sae-byeok to see the person more clearly. But it doesn’t work. Each step feels like he’s getting farther and farther away. Until– nothing.
Gi-hun’s eyes blink open, but his body remains stiff and still. He wonders when was the last time he slept like this, his body corpse-like.
The room is dark– he wonders when he turned off the lights. Gi-hun doesn’t remember flipping the light switch off, but the disorientation has his mind in a haze unsuitable for thinking. He’s on his side, his open hand next to his face and the other lazily at his torso.
He blinks again, hoping to clear his vision.
It works only momentarily.
Somewhere in the dark– he can make out a man dressed in all black sitting at the table close to his bed. There are two seats– sometimes one is occupied by Gi-hun and the other, Mr. Kim. They make a lot of their agreements on that table.
Gi-hun’s voice doesn’t work. He tries to call out for “Mr. Kim” but nothing comes out. A stench of smoke is present– albeit faint. He can see the cigarette burning as the man taps it into the ash tray, then smothers it out.
He turns. Gi-hun can’t make out his face. Not in the darkness and certainly not while half asleep. The man says something, his voice is rough and brittle. Gi-hun thinks he sounds a bit tired or angry, but the man laughs softly.
This is not Mr. Kim.
If Gi-hun were more awake, he’d be scared. Some part of him does feel some sort of terror, but the other doesn’t care, too weary to pay mind to the stranger in the room.
“Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” His mind is spinning too fast and too slow at the same time, trying to focus on the voice– not thinking about the meaning behind the words of the figure. He wants to say something, to have any sort of response to that. Whether it’s witty or just to seek more information from someone who is working for them.
The man says something else– but Gi-hun doesn’t catch it. His eyes are getting more and more tired, he has to blink to keep himself as awake as possible. The man seems to notice, because he gets closer to Gi-hun. To the point where the smell of smoke becomes unbearable, the man’s breath is almost in his face. His features are a bit blurred and smoothed out, but Gi-hun thinks that the man looks like he’s the same age as Gi-hun. Their eyes meet.
“Can’t believe this is who he’s so fixated on.”
Who? Gi-hun runs through his mind. Who is fixated on him?
“If I were you, I’d give up. Enjoy the rest of my life and–” Something makes the man stop.
Then, a grin shows up on his face. Gi-hun doesn’t know what face he’s making, but he feels angry. Angry that the man could ever suggest he gives up on Sang-woo and Sae-byeok. On stopping the games that send four hundred and fifty six people to their deaths every year.
He feels a hand run over his short hair, gently.
It stays there, a firm but gentle hold on his head.
The man’s eyes widen a bit as he makes his threat, “Let’s see how far you make it then.”
His breath is overpowering. The man lifts his hand from Gi-hun’s head. Gi-hun tries to commit the man’s face to memory. Shaved face, tired eyes, bangs on his side that slightly curl.
His vision is fading. There’s nothing but darkness when he hears, “Good luck, 456. I’ll bet on you if I see you again.”
Something is placed in his open palm, the one next to his face. It’s a box, slightly heavy but light enough that it doesn’t make Gi-hun want to wake up. “Oh. And I’ll let you keep these. The ones you had before were fine, but these are much better.” The tone is arrogant and biting, but it’s also quiet. Like the man doesn’t really want to disturb Gi-hun’s rest.
He doesn’t hear the stranger step out the room. Or if the man decides to do anything else. Nor does he hear the closing of the door. It’s just darkness that consumes his vision and thoughts.
Gi-hun wakes up a few hours later. If there wasn’t an opened box of cigarettes in his hand, he would be content with thinking that the entire interaction was a dream. It’s a different, slightly more expensive brand than the one he usually goes for. He wonders why the guard would give him something like this.
Gi-hun checks his drawer to see if the other man left anything else. Nothing.
But he does remember how the guard stole his box of cigarettes a few days ago.
If it wasn’t so absurd, Gi-hun would have snorted.
The window is wide open and Gi-hun thinks he knows how the intruder might have gotten in and left. Even if it’s a steep climb with little to grab onto– he thinks he should figure out how to get that sealed too. Despite how terrifying the encounter should have been, Gi-hun’s fear feels submerged. It should be overwhelming, he should be checking every potential hiding spot in the motel now. But he doesn’t.
The first thing he does is close the window. The wind is howling outside. Is it the middle of the night, or early morning? The sky is pitch black and Gi-hun’s digital clock is unplugged. There aren’t many stars tonight and even the street lights outside are dimmed. Some of the glowing neon signs from buildings across from him are bright– but they flicker quickly and threaten to die any minute.
His room is covered in shadow. Gi-hun doesn’t remember when he turned off the light.
Perhaps the stranger did that for him.
His head hurts. The dizziness and fatigue hasn’t all left him. He feels the consequences of sleeping away a chunk of the day and for a few hours into the night. Of letting himself go like that.
Gi-hun’s head feels so heavy– he tries to lay back down and let it rest on the pillow. His eyes don’t close, they stare up at the ceiling hoping for something more. But he doesn’t know what.
He stays like that until the sun rises.
Gi-hun never really gets an explanation for that day. Only questions. The guard in the black uniform doesn’t come back after that. At least, not to Gi-hun’s knowledge, because Gi-hun doesn’t see him for a few weeks.
Not until he’s at the pier.
Occasionally, Gi-hun likes to go on the pier. Not for any particular reason, the fresh ocean air is just nice to take in. One night, when he wakes up screaming and sweaty. He changes and goes out for a walk after making sure he’s properly locked up the motel. He doesn’t take much aside from his lighter, a pocket knife, and his box of cigarettes. The one the guard gave him.
Admittedly, he hasn’t bothered to buy new ones. Just using up the ones that were given to him.
It’s not his smartest move, he’s well aware they could have been tampered with. But Gi-hun has stopped caring lately.
He stands to the side– admiring the waves and the night sky. Tonight, the sky has cleared up and there is an abundance of stars. It should bring him peace– but he can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Gi-hun turns from where he is, takes a good look around to really check his surroundings. There’s only one other man near him, but still a good distance away. He leans over the railing a bit and holds a cigarette between his fingers. His gaze looks a bit distant, so Gi-hun assumes it can’t be him that watches so fervently.
Gi-hun looks away, it’s rude to stare for so long.
He wonders what the other man is doing out so late, even as he can feel someone staring straight into his soul. Gi-hun turns again, and this time the man is clearly directly looking at him. Like he’s observing Gi-hun.
They stare at each other for a few seconds before Gi-hun barks out, “What?”
The man doesn’t respond, his face says all Gi-hun needs to know though. It’s a smile, the kind that makes the other look like a cat that just caught a mouse. An unsettling discomfort sets in Gi-hun’s stomach. Despite how dark it is, the man’s features look strangely familiar.
He’s seen those eyes before, seen that style of hair– the pink zipper only made noticeable the moment he squinted his eyes– that’s the guard in the black uniform. The realization would have knocked the breath out of Gi-hun’s lungs had he not been so angry, “You–!”
Gi-hun doesn’t manage to get many words in. Because in a second, the other man has his gun pointed and looks ready to shoot. He freezes and wonders if this is how he would die. Would he be killed and tossed over the pier? His body washing up on the shore in the morning?
“Don’t try anything. I just wanted to take a second look. That’s all,” the other man states. He lowers his gun, but Gi-hun stays tense. There are many, many questions that swirl around his head– he looks around to see if there are any more guards nearby. Tries to spot the recognizable hot pink of their uniforms.
He doesn’t spot any of them. No snipers ready to fire at a moment’s notice. He’d dash at the other man, but Gi-hun can’t make the distance without risking being immediately shot.
“Do you believe you’ll be able to bring them down? This operation– it’s much bigger than you. Bigger than that lousy crew you have,” the guard states. Gi-hun doesn’t say anything. It’s clear this man doesn’t want a real answer to that statement.
“He says you want to play the hero. I think you’re just stupid. Mind telling me which of us is right?” The guard tilts his head and looks at Gi-hun with curiosity.
That catches Gi-hun’s attention, “Who?”
For a second, the other man looks like he’s going to snap and yell at Gi-hun, but he composes himself the next second and just rolls his eyes, “The one who runs it.”
Gi-hun doesn’t give him the answer he’s seeking, “Why don’t I tell it directly to him?”
The other man laughs.
“Why would he want to talk with a horse?”
It’s enough to enrage Gi-hun too, “I’m not a–”
The guard’s hand goes up, signaling Gi-hun to stop talking, “You should prove that to him, then.”
“By killing you?” Both men pause, but after a moment, one laughs from how absurd it is. The guard is chuckling like Gi-hun just told him a joke. And maybe he did.
“You should go home now. Back to that dingy motel. We’ll find you when we want to.”
The guard smothers out his cigarette on the railing, but holds onto the cigarette butt. He turns away, and Gi-hun wants to run after him. Pry for more answers– there are more questions in his head, but in the moment none were coming to mind– not with his mind already racing to stay alive so he has a chance to fight back. Gi-hun isn’t exactly scared of death, but to die now would be a waste. Still, he can’t help but feel he’s squandered an opportunity to know more.
Gi-hun takes a few steps further, and the guard suddenly stops to turn back to him, gun still in hand but at his side, “I hope you liked the cigarettes by the way. They weren’t cheap.”
He lazily waves his hand with the gun, as some sort of goodbye. It’s just as much of a threat as it is a goodbye. But it doesn’t feel like a goodbye, the wave is too casual.
It’s more like a see you later.
Gi-hun watches as the masked guard walks away into the night. In the distance, he can hear a car pull up. He doesn’t go back to the motel. He stays at that pier until dawn and ponders on his next move. When he goes back to the Pink Motel, Gi-hun makes his way into one of the random rooms on the first floor and sleeps until nightfall comes again.
A part of him wants to go back to that pier, search for the guard again. But he has a feeling he’ll be chasing a ghost. When he has Mr. Kim’s workers go check the stations, Gi-hun asks for a pair of them to go to the pier to look for anyone suspicious– in a black jumpsuit. Of course, with such eccentric clothing and a general description, they don’t find anyone. Much less a man with a mask that has a square painted on it.
Gi-hun assumes that the man will come back, but he doesn’t know when. His assumption is proven right and wrong.
The guard doesn’t return until two weeks later, and even then Gi-hun doesn’t necessarily meet him face to face in the same way. Gi-hun spots him leaving something outside his door for him to pick up, a rose with a card. It reminds Gi-hun of the one he received when wandering aimlessly, the one that led him to the truth about Il-nam. He wonders if this is another invitation to the games.
He looks at the rose and the card. Flipping it over.
There’s a message on the back, not the one he was expecting. No number, just words.
“Good luck.”