Work Text:
The tracksuit. That fucking tracksuit.
The same tracksuit that Gihun had worn when they first locked eyes during the voting, the same tracksuit that Inho had felt pressed against his skin when they were competing in the pentathlon, the same tracksuit that Gihun had worn during the rebellion, when Gihun still trusted him, when Inho could delude himself into believing that they were something.
Inho hadn’t touched it since he had put it in that box, he hadn’t dared. But now, in the back of that limo, back where they had spoken only weeks before, he was alone with his thoughts, the only sounds being the soft breathing coming from the baby and the hum of Seoul as he was driven through the city, the only smell being him.
The smell of Gihun overwhelmed his nostrils, A mix of smoke and earth.
Inho couldn’t bear it
He felt his throat tightening, he could feel a scream trying to break through the barriers that Inho had put up so many years ago, when he thought he could no longer feel, just exist.
Nothing came out, he crumpled heavily into his seat, trying to breathe.
——————————————
It’s never over
But of course Inho had to act like it was.
He still had to continue on as normal, still had to carry on the games that had caused him to lose everything, still had to protect the baby that Gihun had grown so protective over, it was agony. Having to keep living when the only thing that kept Inho going, gave him drive, was gone.
Its just another day
——————————————
He still looked for Gihun.
No matter where he was, he was constantly looking, trying to catch a glimpse of that short black hair, those brown doe eyes that Inho had slowly watched lose their spark.
Inho had seen him. Or he thought he did..
He was waiting for the subway, absentmindedly watching the hustle and bustle of the underground, when he saw a man.
The man was facing away from him, about to take the subway that was about to leave.
Inho’s heart dropped.
The man had bright red hair, short and slightly fluffy, the figure was wearing a suit, like gihun had.
Before he had a chance do anything, the man was gone, a distant memory.
——————————————
For a while, Inho loathed Gihun.
Envious that he got away from the games, from the world full of grief and cruelty,
From him.
Blaming him,
“You didn’t need to die, we could have been happy”
If only Gihun had listened, used the dagger, he could have won again, he could have stayed with Inho.
During the desolate and lonely nights in his apartment, when the only distraction he had was the baby, the only shred of hope and life left in Inho’s life,
He saw him, a shadow.
Never speaking or moving, just quietly watching, staring, a constant reminder of the man he had betrayed.
It’s never over
——————————————
It had been six months, and Gihun was still all Inho could think about.
Gihun plagued his mind, reminders of him everywhere, It was suffocating, Seoul was no longer a home, it never was for Inho, he couldn’t stay any longer, marinating in the city that held so many memories of him.
“Fuck this city”, Inho had thought to himself, as Seoul grew smaller and smaller behind him.
——————————————
He got away
Everything was gone, the child, the money, the tracksuit.
All physical reminders of Gihun were gone, only leaving the gaping hole in Inho’s chest,
The neverending feeling of loss.
He was in the back of the car, watching as the new recruiter found more people to lure into the games.
He could still feel him, sitting across from him, he could almost hear his berating.
It’s just another day,
But it’s not over, til it’s over ,
But it’s never over
——————————————