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# MAFIA: The First Game
## Part One: Awakening
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### Hayoon Ahns POV
Consciousness came back to Hayoon Ahn like a heavy tide.
It did not happen at once—that would have been too kind. It came in bits and pieces. The cold stone floor against her cheek. The dull throbbing pain behind her eyes. The distant sound of someone screaming muffled by walls and distance and the thick heavy silence of a place that felt like it had been waiting for her to wake up.
She did not open her eyes.
She listened first.
That was instinct. It was something buried deep in her bones that even the empty space where her memories should be could not erase it. Listen before you look. Know before you act. Study before you show yourself.
The screaming stopped.
Then it started again. A different voice. Higher. More desperate.
Then it stopped.
A door slammed somewhere above her.
Hayoon Ahns fingers twitched against the floor. It was cold. Marble, because of how it held the chill. It felt ancient. Worn smooth by feet that had stopped walking a long time ago.
She was alone in this room.
She could feel the emptiness around her. The air did not move. The silence pressed against her skin like it had weight.
She opened her eyes.
The ceiling looked wrong.
It was. Ornate. It was covered in dust and cobwebs that had not been touched in years. A chandelier hung above her. The crystals were dull and grey catching the light that came through barred windows.
Barred windows.
Hayoon Ahn sat up slowly.
Her long white hair fell over her shoulders. It was sleek and perfect as if someone had brushed it while she was asleep. That thought made her stomach turn.
She was wearing a white coat over a simple top and dark pants. It was practical and professional. She knew that. She knew she was a doctor. A healer. Someone who saved lives.
She remembered that much.
She remembered her childhood—a blur of hallways and even colder expectations. She remembered her training—years of studying and learning to be someone people could trust with things.
She remembered her career. The respect. The fear. The way people looked at her like she was not quite human.
She did not remember who she had spent those years with.
The faces were blurry.
The names were gone.
There was a void where people should have been.
She stood up slowly.
Her legs were steady. Her hands were steady. Everything about her was steady except her mind, which was spinning with questions she could not answer.
She walked to the mirror.
A woman looked back at her.
Long white hair. Piercing eyes. A face that was beautiful in a sharp way—the kind of beauty that keeps people away. A small fake smile seemed to sit at the corners of her mouth even when she was not smiling.
Hayoon Ahn.
She knew who she was.
She knew what she had done.
She just did not know who she had done it with.
---
The door was not locked.
She opened it.
The hallway was long.
It was. Dimly lit. Doors lined both sides like teeth in a jaw. Some were open. She could see empty rooms inside. Some were closed.
Some had scratches on the wood.
Hayoon Ahn stepped out.
She could hear voices now—muffled and distant coming from below. Some were calm. Some were panicked. One was the screaming she had heard before. Now it was just ragged sobs.
She walked toward the sound.
---
The staircase was grand.
It was. Ornate. It was the kind of staircase that belonged in a mansion where terrible things had happened. The kind of staircase that had seen things no one wanted to remember.
Hayoon Ahn went down slowly.
She could see the lobby now. The grand foyer. The marble floors were. Worn. The chandelier that was once beautiful was now covered in decades of dust.
The people.
There were fifteen of them.
Some were standing. Some were sitting. Some were pacing like animals in a cage.
One—
One was on her knees. Her face was buried in her hands and her shoulders were shaking.
Juni Chang.
Her brown hair was still pulled back into a cool stylish ponytail—somehow perfect despite everything. Her radio headset was still strapped to her head. Her sharp suit was wrinkled,. It was still intact.
She was crying.
Standing beside her—
Yesol Na.
Her boyish haircut was sharp, fierce and attractive. Her dark tactical leather gear was practical and ready for combat. Her fierce brown eyes were fixed on Juni Chang with an intensity that looked painful.
She did not touch her.
She was standing close.
Close to catch her if she fell.
---
Hayoon Ahn reached the bottom of the stairs.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"Youre awake " Ryujin said.
Her curly brown hair was even messier now shoulder-length and wild. Her gray eyes were intense and assessing. She had a cigarette tucked behind her ear. She was not smoking it. She was just holding it.
"The last one " Ryujin continued. "We were starting to think you were dead."
Hayoon Ahns voice was steady. "How long was I unconscious?"
"Hard to say." Ryujin shrugged. "Time does not work here.. " She looked around the room. "Everyone else has been awake for least an hour. Some longer."
"Why was I last?"
No one answered.
Hayoon Ahn rolled her eyes.
" course " she muttered. "No one knows. Fantastic. This is how I wanted to spend my evening."
---
Hayoon Ahn walked into the lobby.
She looked at everyone the way a general looks at a battlefield.
Sayeon Lee was sitting in the corner with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Her blue bob was uneven and a bit messy. Her red-rimmed glasses were crooked. Her expression was completely empty—like she had gone far inside herself that nothing could reach her.
She was wearing a oversized sweater and jeans.
Hayoon Ahn knew her.
Not the details—the specifics were blurry like everything.. She knew Sayeon Lee was insane.. Pretending to be. She knew Sayeon tracked things. Hunted things. That she had a code that did not quite match reality.
She knew Sayeon Lee thought she was sane.
That was what made her dangerous.
---
Ryujin Kang.
Hayoon Ahn knew her too.
She had curly shoulder-length purplish-brown hair. She had gray eyes. She had a hot-headed nature that made her seem unpredictable—but Hayoon Ahn knew better. Ryujin Kang was one of the stable people in this room.
She had grown up in an orphanage. Hayoon Ahn remembered that much. She knew Ryujin Kang had been hardened young and had learned to fight before she learned to trust.
She also knew Ryujin Kang had a sister.
Not by blood.
Because of how they lived.
Yesol Na.
The same orphanage. The same childhood. The same blurry. Missing names.
They had grown up together.
Now they were here.
---
Juni Chang.
Brown hair in a cool ponytail. Blue eyes. A radio headset that seemed to be a part of her.
Hayoon Ahn knew Juni Chang was a rebel. Someone who did not follow rules. Someone who questioned everything.
She also knew Juni Chang had someone.
Someone whose face was blurry in her memory.
Someone she had lost.
---
Iseul Kim.
Orange hair. Brown eyes with specks. A blindfold resting on his forehead like he was waiting to use it.
He was calm and collected. He was the kind of person who kept everyone from falling
Hayoon Ahn knew he cared deeply. That he carried a weight he did not show. That he was terrified of losing the people he loved.
She did not know who those people were.
She had a guess.
---
Min Woo.
White ponytail. Blank white eyes. An apathetic expression.
Hayoon Ahn knew better.
He cared.
He cared more than he wanted anyone to know.
His eyes kept flickering to Iseul Kim—watching, always watching. It was like he was waiting for something to go wrong. Like he was preparing to step
It was not dramatic. It was not obvious.
It was there.
---
Yesol Na.
Boyish haircut. Fierce brown eyes. Tactical leather gear.
She was disciplined and careful. She was the kind of person who thought about every move before she made it.
Hayoon Ahn knew she had grown up in an orphanage. That Ryujin Kang was her sister—not by blood. By something deeper. That she had learned to survive before she had learned to trust.
She also knew Yesol Na had someone.
Someone whose face she could not quite see.
Someone who was standing in front of her.
---
Aera Son.
Red ponytail. Glowing orange eyes. A scarred face.
She was angry.
The anger was just a mask.
Underneath it was something. Something that had learned to wait. Something that had learned to be patient.
Hayoon Ahn knew Aera Son was a killer. She had always been a killer. It was in her blood in her bones and, in the way she moved.
She also knew Aera Son was not just a killer.
She was something
Something that had been buried.
---
Wolhye Auclair.
White bob. Purple eyes. A flowing white dress.
She was scared.
She was learning.
Sara Lee was whispering to her. Sara Lee was teaching her. Sara Lee was showing her that fear was another tool.
Hayoon watched the way Wolhyes face changed.
The fear did not go away.
Something else came with it.
Something colder.
Something that made Wolhye look like she belonged in this place.
---
Sara Lee.
She had long flowing hair. Her body looked see-through.
Her face was blurry.
It was not just hidden—Hayoon could see the shape of a face and the lines of her features.. The details were wrong. It was like looking through glass. It was like the universe could not decide what Sara Lee actually looked like.
She was a ghost.
She was dead.
She was still here.
Hayoon knew that Sara Lee was manipulative. Hayoon knew that Sara Lee had always been manipulative. Hayoon knew that Sara Lee had spent a life pulling strings and watching people dance.
Hayoon also knew that Sara Lee had someone.
Someone whose face was clear.
Someone standing by her side.
Wolhye.
Their relationship was hard to understand.
Hayoon could feel it—the weight of things left unsaid and things never fixed. It made the fear in Wolhye turn into something. It made the whispers from Sara Lee sound like comfort and more like a promise.
---
Then there was Miyeon Sang.
She had black hair tied in a tight pretty bun. She wore a suit that was perfectly tailored and clean. She had gray eyes that seemed to see through everything.
Hayoon felt her chest tighten.
Hayoon knew her.
Not the small details—those were blurry like everything.. Hayoon knew Miyeon Sang was stiff and strict. Miyeon Sang was the type of person who followed rules because they made sense.
Hayoon also knew Miyeon Sang was hiding something.
Something cold.
Something dangerous.
When Hayoon looked at her—
When Hayoon really looked—
Something changed.
The stern look on Miyeon Sangs face flickered for a second. It was a moment of hesitation that made Miyeon Sang look almost human. She looked almost vulnerable. It was as if Miyeon Sang was not a collection of sharp edges and cold rules.
It was as if Miyeon Sang was someone who could be hurt.
Hayoons heart squeezed.
It hurt.
It hurt more than it should have.
It hurt more than anything in this room.
Why? Hayoon thought. Why does looking at her hurt more than the others?
Why does it feel like someone is squeezing my heart when I look at her?
---
### Miyeon Sangs POV
Miyeon Sang knew.
Oh Miyeon Sang knew.
The moment she saw Hayoon walking down those stairs—with hair a white coat and that annoying charming smile—everything came rushing back.
The late nights in the lab. The fights over nothing. The way Hayoon would roll her eyes at everything Miyeon Sang said but would still make tea when Miyeon Sang was too tired to ask.
The way Hayoon would smile when Miyeon Sang told her she loved her.
The way Hayoon would look when Miyeon Sang said it back.
Miyeon Sang remembered everything.
Miyeon Sang remembered the warmth.
The safety.
The terror of loving someone much that losing them felt like dying.
Miyeon Sang remembered the time they met—how Hayoons sharp eyes cut through a crowded room to find her like she had been looking for her whole life.
Miyeon Sang remembered the time they kissed—in a supply closet of all places with the smell of disinfectant in the air and Hayoons laugh echoing off the metal shelves.
Miyeon Sang remembered the time they fought—something silly about protocols and rules and how Hayoon refused to follow them.
Miyeon Sang remembered the time they made up—Hayoon showing up at the door at 3 AM her white hair a mess and her eyes red saying, "I dont know how to do this without you."
Miyeon Sang remembered the time she realized she would do anything for Hayoon.
The first time she realized that was a problem.
Miyeon Sang remembered the silence.
The space between them that grew until it was too wide to cross.
Miyeon Sang remembered the time she saw her—Hayoon walking away her back straight and her white hair catching the light never looking back.
Then—
And then Miyeon Sang woke up here.
In this mansion.
With Hayoon looking at her like she was a stranger.
She does not remember Miyeon Sang. It felt like someone had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart.
She does not remember me.
She does not remember us.
She does not remember anything.
Miyeon Sangs face did not change. It could not. Years of training years of hiding and years of learning to be cold had made sure of that.
Inside—
Inside Miyeon Sang was screaming.
---
The pain in her chest felt real.
It felt like someone had wrapped their hand around her heart and was squeezing and squeezing until she could not breathe.
Miyeon Sang had done this.
Miyeon Sang had done this to herself.
Miyeon Sang had pushed Hayoon away because it was easier than admitting she was scared. Miyeon Sang had let the silence grow because she did not know how to fill it with anything but lies. Miyeon Sang had let Hayoon walk away because she thought—she thought—
She thought she could survive it.
She was wrong.
She had been wrong about many things.
Now Hayoon was standing ten feet away looking at her with those beautiful white eyes and there was nothing there. No recognition. No warmth. No anger. No pain.
Just emptiness.
Just a void.
She is better off Miyeon Sang told herself. She is better off not remembering. She is off without the weight of what we were. What we did. What I did to her.
Even as she thought it Miyeon Sang knew it was a lie.
Because Hayoon had never been better off without her.
Miyeon Sang had never been better off without Hayoon.
They had been broken together.
That was the way they ever worked.
---
"Do we know each other?" Miyeon Sang asked quietly.
Her voice was steady. Controlled. Perfect.
Hayoons voice caught.
"I know your name " Hayoon said. "I know who you are.. I do not know how we met.. When.. Why."
Miyeon Sangs eyes narrowed.
"I feel the same " Miyeon Sang said slowly. "I know your names. I know your faces. But I do not remember—"
Miyeon Sang stopped.
Miyeon Sang could not finish the lie.
Not when Hayoon was looking at her with those eyes so empty and confused.
Not when Miyeon Sang could feel the weight of every memory pressing down on her like an object.
Tell her something inside her screamed. Tell her you remember. Tell her you love her. Tell her you never stopped.
Miyeon Sang could not.
Because if she told her—
If she told her the truth—
Hayoon would look at her with those eyes and Miyeon Sang would see everything. The lies. The silence. The years of pushing her until nothing was left but the void.
Hayoon would hate her.
Miyeon Sang did not think she could survive that.
---
### Hayoon Ahns POV
A sharp pain shot through Hayoons head.
Through everyones head.
They all winced at the same time.
---
"The past " Sayeon said quietly. "We cannot remember the people.. We remember ourselves."
"What do you mean?" Juni asked. Her voice was shaky and wet from crying.
Sayeon opened her eyes.
They were a blue. Empty.. Focused.
"I mean our bodies remember what our minds forgot " Sayeon said. "The ache in my chest tells me I lost someone. The tightness in your throat tells me you are afraid of something you cannot name." Sayeon looked at Iseul. "The weight in your hands tells me you have held a weapon before."
Sayeon looked at Hayoon.
"The cold in your spine tells me you have killed."
Hayoon rolled her eyes.
"Very dramatic " Hayoon said dryly. "Did you practice that in the mirror?"
But Hayoons spine was cold.
Hayoon could feel the blood.
It was not on her hands—that would have been too easy to see. It was deeper than that. It was in her bones. In her memories. In the places where the void was thickest.
Hayoon had killed.
Hayoon knew she had killed.
Hayoon just did not know who.
---
### Miyeon Sangs POV
Miyeon Sang looked at her hands.
Miyeon Sang knew who she had killed.
Miyeon Sang remembered every one.
Miyeon Sang knew that Hayoon was one of them.
Not dead—no Hayoon was standing in front of her, alive and breathing and rolling her eyes at everything everyone said.
Hayoon was dead to Miyeon Sang.
Dead in the way that really mattered.
Miyeon Sang had been the one to kill her.
Not, with a weapon.
With silence.
With distance.
With the coldness that had grown between them until neither of them could reach the other.
---
"Enough " Miyeon Sang said sharply. "We do not have time for this. Whoever brought us here—" Miyeon Sang looked around the room. "They are going to show themselves. We just have to wait."
". Do what in the meantime?" Ryujin demanded. "Sit here. Hold hands?"
"Maybe." Miyeon Sangs voice was cold. "Maybe we figure out why we are here. What we are supposed to do."
"Or maybe we find a way " Juni said.
She was already at the door trying the lock. The lock would not move.
"It is locked " she said in a voice. ". Barred too. Someone really does not want us to leave."
"Then we wait " Iseul said in a way. ". We get ready."
"Get ready for what?"
Iseul looked around the room.
"Whatever happens next."
---
Then it happened.
A voice came from above.
Everyone looked up.
A man stood on the second-floor balcony. He looked down at them with a smile. The smile did not reach his eyes.
He wore a dark suit. He looked plain. He looked like someone you would forget.
His presence felt heavy in the room like thick smoke.
"Welcome " he said smoothly. "Welcome to the gathering."
"Who are you?" Ryujin asked.
"Someone who wants to play a game " the man said. "A simple game. Some of you are Town. Some of you are Mafia. One of you is the Jester."
He stopped for a second.
"The goal is easy. The Town must get rid of the Mafia. The Mafia must get rid of the Town. The Jester must trick everyone into getting rid of the Jester."
". What if we do not play?" Aeras voice was sharp. It sounded dangerous. Her orange eyes were bright and angry again.
The man did not stop smiling.
"Then you do not leave."
---
The room went wild.
"What do you mean we do not leave—"
"You kidnapped us—"
"I will kill you—"
"SHUT UP!"
Everyone went quiet.
Aera was standing in the middle of the room. Her red ponytail swung as she moved and her orange eyes were burning.
The anger was gone now.
Instead she looked cold.
It was a look that made Hayoon feel a chill down her spine.
"You are making us play " Aera said quietly. "Fine. I will play.. When I win—" She smiled. It was not a smile. "I am coming for you."
The mans smile stayed the same.
"I look forward to it."
---
He started to hand out cards.
"Each of you will get a role. You will get your props after. The game starts at dusk."
He walked around the room. Put cards face-down in front of every person.
Hayoon took hers.
She did not look at the card.
Instead she watched everyone
Juni was shaking. She held her card tight like she needed it to live.
Ryujin had already looked at her card. Her face showed nothing.
Iseul was watching everyone. His orange hair caught the light.
Min Woo looked blank. His eyes kept looking at Iseul.
Yesol was watching Juni with a jaw.
Aera was looking at her card with a calm.
Wolhye was scared. Her white bob hair was messy. Her purple eyes moved fast around the room.
Right next to her—
Saras blurry face turned toward them.
"Unpredictability is the thread that weaves the world " she whispered. Her voice sounded like wind in a hall. "It spins the stars. Loosens the earth. It is the drift between waking and dream. The path that is no path. The name that cannot be spoken. Follow it darling.. Die trying."
Wolhyes face changed.
The fear was still there.
Something else was there too.
Something cold.
---
### Miyeon Sangs POV
Miyeon looked at her card.
MAFIA.
She almost laughed.
Of course.
Course she was Mafia.
She had been a killer her life.
This was more of the same.
Then she looked at Hayoon.
Hayoon was looking at her card.
---
### Hayoon Ahns POV
Hayoon looked at her card.
DOCTOR.
She felt something change in her chest.
Was it relief? No not really.
It was more hard to explain than that.
She was the Doctor. The healer. The one who saves people.
She had killed before.
She knew she had killed.
Now she had to save people from the Mafia.
The Mafia might include—
Her eyes moved to Miyeon.
Miyeon was looking at her card.
Miyeon was looking at her.
What are you? Hayoon thought. What are you hiding?
---
The man clapped his hands.
"Great " he said. "Now—let us begin."
He turned down the lights.
The candles flickered.
"Close your eyes " he said softly.
Hayoon closed her eyes.
Everything went dark away. It was darkness.
In the dark she heard Saras voice one more time.
"Last to wake " Sara whispered. "First to fall.. First to rise? The thread is thin Hayoon. Very thin. Walk carefully. Because in this game the only thing you can be sure of is that nothing is certain."
The darkness got deeper.
Hayoon felt like she was falling.
She reached out—
She touched nothing.
---
She woke up alone.
It was the room. The same bed. The same barred window.
Now there was an earpiece in her ear.
A card in her pocket.
She pulled it out.
DOCTOR.
She smiled.
Let the game begin.
---
Even as she smiled her heart still hurt.
She was still thinking about how Miyeon hesitated.
She could still feel that squeeze in her chest that made her feel almost human.
Almost like she had loved someone once.
Lost them.
---
### Miyeon Sangs POV
In the room Miyeon opened her eyes.
She remembered everything.
She knew the game was now impossible.
Because she could not kill Hayoon.
She had already done that one time.
She could not live through doing it again.
---
The earpiece made a noise.
"Players " the voice said. "The game has started. Go to the hall for your first instructions."
Miyeon stood up.
Her legs were steady.
Her hands were steady.
Everything about her was steady except her heart, which was still screaming.
She walked to the door.
She opened it.
She stepped into the game.
---
END OF PART ONE
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To be continued...