STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME CRY

[ANNOUNCEMENT] once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

hello! so, this isn't a chapter update at all, so sorry to disappoint you guys.

i would like to let you all know who's been reading the "once you go in, there's no turning back" in-ho x reader series will be lacking updates for awhile. my dad has been rushed to the hospital because of stroke and is in critical condition since monday. at this point, his body is relying on life support and my family and i have been deciding whether to put an end or not.

i'm giving at least 2 weeks or so for me to release the new update. i have it ready actually and i have the outline of all the next chapters to come. it's just that, i don't trust my current mental state and be satisfied with the chapters i've drafted.

again, i'm so sorry for not being able to update lately. i know i said in the previous author's note that i'll be updating fast but with this sudden news and preparation for our next steps in our family, it's taken a toll on me lately.

rest assured that once i feel fine and feel like writing again, i would give you guys an update immediately on the next chapters. :>

with love,

sig aka lieutenantbatshit :>

TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover@1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001 @risingwithtriples @fries11 @follows-the-life-ahead @goingmerry69

01 - no good deed | just another player. (hwang in-ho x reader)

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The room was dark. Not the artificial, humming darkness of the dormitories. No flickering overhead lights, no sound of desperate breathing in the shadows. 

This darkness was deeper, becoming quieter, then still.

Hwang In-ho bolts upright in his bed, breath caught in his throat, chest heaving beneath the black robe of the Front Man. Sweat clung to his skin like blood once did. The black mask sits abandoned on the table beside him, and for a moment, he remembers who he is. 

Not Hwang In-ho.

The Front Man.

But the dream, kind of a memory, doesn’t let him go. He can still feel it — the warm pool of his blood beneath him, the shouts, the silence, and the pain.

And then, there was you.

Your gloved hands pressing down his wound with a whisper against the chaos, “If you live, don’t forget who you were.”

In-ho’s hands tremble as he reached for a glass of water beside him. He had forgotten, hadn’t he? Bit by bit, piece by piece, until all that remained was the mask, the control, the machine. 

But that voice —  your voice — it never left.

He brushes his hand through his damp hair, eyes burning as they stare at nothing. You were just a shadow then, a mask among other masks. A rule-breaker in a place where mercy was punishable by death.

He doesn’t even know your face or your name. Yet your presence lives in the cracks of his memory, in the fractured quiet of his mind that he never allowed himself to touch.

Except in his dreams.

Or nightmares.

He rose slowly, each movement deliberate. There’s something cold and restrained about him now, but the weight behind his eyes was unmistakable. He walked to the system terminal as the soft glow of the screens hummed to life, illuminating the sharp edges of his face, the shadow of grief still etched across his expression.

His fingers tapped on the keyboard as the screen flickered.

Pink Guard Personnel Records: 28th Squid Game

He shouldn’t do this.

He knew he shouldn’t. Everything about the games was built on anonymity, everything encrypted as if you were expected to forget, bury the past six feet beneath protocol and power.

But he couldn’t forget you. 

His voice was low, hoarse, as he spoke into the silence. “Who were you?”

The system begins its search as the man behind the mask isn’t the Front Man tonight. Tonight, he’s a survivor… still trying to find the one person who made him feel human again. 

Lines of data flicker across the screen — guard IDs, biometric logs, movement patterns, shift schedules. Thousands of entries. Most were clean, categorized, and controlled.

But one file stalls.

ID: P-132-20152745

In-ho narrowed his eyes as he noticed the file. He hovered his hand on his mouse as he clicked, only for the screen to shudder.

ERROR. FILE CORRUPTED. ACCESS DENIED.

He leaned closer as he squinted at the file number. He doesn’t recognize the number, but something about it pulls at him. The timestamp matches the night he was injured. That narrow window between the second and third round.

His fingers fly over the keys as he bypasses standard security. Firewalls resist him, but he wrote the protocols himself. He cracks through the surface code, digging deeper.

REDACTED ENTRY: UNAUTHORIZED INTERVENTION DETECTED.

P-132-20152745: Disciplinary Report - MISSING

Security Footage - DELETED

Status: UNKNOWN

He sits back slowly, the air tight in his lungs, realizing that someone had scrubbed the record. 

Not just a name or a face. Just plain everything.

As if that guard never existed. 

As if the system had tried to erase the very moment he clung to all these years.

His jaw tightened, rage pulsing beneath the surface. Not just for the system, but for himself for forgetting, surviving, and becoming the very thing he once feared. 

Still, there’s a silver of data remaining. A slashed fragment of a voice file that was compressed and corrupted.

Yet, it was still playable.

The static nearly swallows the sound, but in the middle of the distortion, something cuts through.

“—wasn’t supposed to do this…”

“…remember who you are…” “—forgive me.”

In-ho’s eyes closed, his heart pulsing through his chest. Though it was comforting to feel that you were real, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to you. 

As his thoughts almost swayed him, he immediately snapped out of his thoughts as he heard a heavy thud. Not from the room, but from the recording.

He sat up as a sharp intake of breath was heard, then another sound that seemed like a hit. Then, another sound that pierces through even the most distorted noise.

A soft, broken whimper. A woman’s voice.

“Please…” A muffled cry as another strike seemed to be done, and then, there was silence.

In-ho froze as his jaw clenched while the recording looped, replaying that single moment of helplessness. Something cold grips his chest, curling around his ribs like barbed wire. 

Someone definitely made sure he wouldn’t remember it. 

The file ends with one last, choked breath — one that doesn’t quite sound like fear, but grief.

“He wasn’t supposed to see me.”

The silence after felt suffocating. In-ho’s fingers curled into fists as the final realization sank in. This wasn’t just a disappearing act.

Someone silenced you, covered you up, and buried your existence under codes and protocols. In-ho scoffed, a smirk forming as if an idea shone all over his face.

They didn’t bury you well enough.

His eyes hardened as he locked the terminal.

You saved him once, now it was his turn.

——

The incinerator hisses as the body bag disappears into flame.

It was either buried or harvested for organs — you couldn’t care at all. In fact, you don’t flinch anymore. You haven’t, in a long time. 

The stench of burnt cloth and blood clings to your mask, thick and stubborn, as if even the scent refuses to die here. You stand still, posture straight, hands clasped behind you just as protocol demands.

You were only a pink circle guard. Just another pair of obedient boots, another ghost in the machine.

Your boots echo softly down the corridor. Rhythm is everything here—footsteps measured, spine straight, eyes forward behind a mask that tells the world nothing. Now, you’re Guard 427.

You swipe your card at the checkpoint and enter the security control wing. The guards here don’t speak unless ordered. The walls hum with surveillance feeds, and one screen, larger than the rest, projects the black mask of the Front Man. You’ve worked hard to become invisible. You are precise in your tasks, silent in your duties, unremarkable in your movements. You erase yourself every day, bit by bit, in service of survival.

Still, you remember him. Not as the Front Man. But as Player 132.

He was bleeding when you found him, struggling beneath the weight of survival. You should’ve walked away. Left him to die like all the others. But something in his eyes that night — numb but furious, cracked but not yet broken made you stop.

You knelt. Whispered. Touched his bloodied chest with trembling fingers.

“If you live, don’t forget who you were before they made you fight.”

And now, he sits behind the glass of power, voice modulated, mask unshifting, his judgment absolute. You wondered if he dreams of you, if your voice ever slips into his nightmares. You wondered if, when he stares too long at the monitors, he's chasing something his mind won’t give him.

You kept your head down and your steps even. You cleaned blood off the walls. You followed orders. You pretend you’re not the one he’s unknowingly searching for.

Because if he ever does remember… If he ever sees through the perfect circle painted across your mask, what then?

Would he thank you? Punish you? Undo you?

You weren’t sure. In a place where mercy was a foreign concept, such a situation of his finding you would cause more complications.

The alarm blared. A low tone thrums through the walls, and every Circle in the hallway stops in unison.

“VIP arrival. Level Six. Escort detail.”

Your fellow pink guards peel off wordlessly, boots pivoting toward the service lift that leads to the opulent corridors you’re never meant to see. The ones draped in gold and smoke, the ones that reek of indulgence and blood.

But not you.

Your earpiece buzzes with a separate frequency.

“P-427, Report to Sub-Level Three. Clearance Sigma Red.”

Sigma Red.

You hesitate for half a breath before responding.

“Confirmed. On route.”

It wasn’t your first time.

You walked alone now, past the steel hallways, the flickering fluorescents, the guards who pretended not to see. You made your way towards the door marked only by a red triangle and the faint scent of disinfectant beneath it.

Inside the room was quiet, warmer, and cleaner. There was no briefing. No other guards. Just a room with a solitary mirror and a rack of clean clothing with soft fabric, unlike your uniform.

“Change. Protocol 09 is in effect,” the voice over the intercom says.

You obeyed, not needing to be told why. 

You’ve done this before. You remember the way the Front Man had just taken the mask then. How his presence had loomed even before you could name it. The first time, you’d done what you were told because not doing so meant punishment. 

You were a standard circle guard who was quiet, efficient, and obedient. Not until that night during the 28th Season where you chose mercy. 

He was bleeding out during lights out where his eyes had pulled you in — the hollow ache of someone who wanted to die but was too proud to beg for it. You broke the rules, yet they let you live.

Only so they could strip you down slowly — the escort class.

The lowest, most degrading designation in the hierarchy of this twisted system. You are masked, dressed in thin civilian mimicry, and handed over to the VIPs—not for pleasure, necessarily. Sometimes just for company. Sometimes for cruelty. Always for obedience.

“Escort detail begins in thirty minutes. Await further instruction.”

The door clicks shut behind you. You sat and waited, listening to the hum of the walls as you wondered, what if this is the time he speaks to you? What if he looks at you a second too long? What if he asks your name? And what if you're too afraid to give it?

The walls here were too quiet. No screams, gunfire, and barking orders. Only silence — deliberate, echoing, and unnerving.

The mask stays on. It always stays on. It's the only part of yourself you're allowed to keep. As you sat, the intercom crackled again. A different voice this time. One you know. One you’ve heard before during your disciplinary hearing. 

“Protocol 09 in effect,” the speaker hisses.

No acknowledgment required. They know you understand.

“You aided a player in the 28th Season. Unforgivable.”

A pause, long enough to let the weight settle. “You will not speak of it. Not to him. Not to anyone. The Front Man does not know. He must never know. Do you understand?”

You nod silently, because that’s all you're allowed to do now.

“VIPs arrive in thirty. Escort mode active.”

You fixed the mask over your face as you changed layer by layer, its garments feel like silk-wrapped shame. 

You remember how, once, your hands shook as they held a bleeding man. The one who now runs the games, one who sits behind a mask of black steel, haunted by something he can’t quite name.

He lives because of you and now you serve because of him.

He must never know.

But you remember.

Every time.

——

The scent of cologne, alcohol, and smoke clung to the velvet of the VIP lounge. The lighting was warm, golden, and suffocating — designed to flatter the depraved. Laughter cuts the air like broken glass. Masks of beasts and emperors lounge across gilded sofas, their voices slurred, their gaze predatory.

One of the VIPs snaps his fingers lazily. You pour his drink, bow just enough, and say nothing — as trained. You don’t speak. You don’t blink too long. You don’t feel.

“You’re quiet,” the VIP, masked as a Minotaur, slurred, brushing his fingers against your mask. “That’s good. Quiet girls know their place.”

You don’t flinch. At least, not visibly.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you slightly closer, examining you like a possession. “You’re prettier than the last one. I like the silent ones.”

You remain still and silent. Fighting the urge to pull away because if you did, they win. And if you speak, you lose more. Your hands rest on your knees as you lowered your gaze.

“You’re not new, are you?”

The question stung, but you didn’t flinch. You were burning inside, but you stayed silent. 

“That means you know not to fight.”

A murmur of laughter from the others. One of them raises a toast. Another gestures toward you and makes a cruel joke about how easily the silent ones break.

But something shifts in the room. The air tightens. The laughter dulls into murmurs. 

The door opened, revealing the Front Man.

Black mask. Black coat. His movements sharp and deliberate. Authority trails behind him like a shadow.

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. You straightened your back, holding your breath as you felt your pulse surge. You kept your head bowed. 

He shouldn't be here. Not during the lounge sessions. Not unless something’s wrong. Yet here he is.

He walked slowly through the room silently as if he were observing and calculating something. His presence stills the most obnoxious of the guests. Even the ones who believe they own this place lower their voices when he moves near.

From across the room, the Front Man’s visor tilts toward you. He seemed to see your… situation. But, he doesn’t stop it. He doesn’t speak.

He simply watches.

You don’t know what’s worse. The VIP’s hand curling around your waist…

…or the silence from the one man who might have stopped it.

The VIP’s hand had finally left your side—only because another escort had arrived, younger and easier to control. You’d bowed out with the grace expected of you, even though your fingers trembled behind your back.

“Go help the servers,” one of the Square guards said. 

You obeyed.

It was almost a relief to stand by the bar cart again, serving champagne, bourbon, whiskey, gin. Anything they asked for. Anything to stop being seen.

“You,” the Square guard pointed at you. “Pour for the Front Man.”

The air around you dropped ten degrees, but your hands moved on instinct. The Front Man stood near the edge of the lounge, silent and still as the walls themselves. You could feel the room shift around him. 

You approached with measured steps, a crystal decanter in hand.

He didn’t look at you when you poured, though you could smell his cologne even beneath your mask. As you were about to finish filling up the glass, he suddenly spoke.

“Stay.”

You froze. You expected to be dismissed. But instead, he stood there, drink in hand, and allowed you to remain beside him. One step behind. Within reach. Claimed without announcement.

“Careful with that one, Front Man!” a portly VIP calls out with a laugh, drink sloshing in his hand. “Keep her too close, and you might find yourself using her for more than just drinks!”

Laughter erupted from his circle as your breath hitched a bit. You didn’t move, and the Front Man didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure if he reacted beneath his mask, but he stayed still. There was no reaction and defense.

He sipped his drink slowly, his gaze never leaving the room. Not even a glance toward the man who joked. Not toward you. But then, you felt a sting inside you.

It wasn’t because of the VIP’s words — you’ve heard worse.

But because he didn’t stop it.

You stood at his side obediently, and he let the insult hang there, untouched. You forced the pain down like glass, straightening your spine. Somehow, his silence hurts more than the joke ever could.

By day, you sweep floors, distribute rations, check that the cameras are functioning. Your circle mask stares back at you from polished metal when you pass the infirmary door. You speak to no one. You salute when required. You blend in easily and invisibly. 

You are not meant to be remembered. That, too, is part of the punishment.

At night, it changes. The suit comes off. The silk goes on. You trade your mask for another kind — faceless still, but far more exposed. An escort — a role no one envies.

No one asks how you ended up there. They already know. 

It’s all because you interfered and saved someone you weren’t meant to. You’re not even sure he remembers. Or if he ever knew. Or if he’s simply chosen to forget because acknowledging what you did would mean acknowledging that even he was once weak enough to bleed.

And weakness isn’t allowed here.

Sometimes, when you stand beside his chair in the VIP lounge and pour his drink, you think about that moment in the dark, years ago. When he was gasping, wounded, barely clinging to life behind a player’s uniform soaked in blood. And you chose to help.

That was the night your position was stripped from you.

Because you weren’t always a circle.

Your hands remember how to hold a gun with authority. Your voice remembers how to give orders.

You were a square.

You remember the weight of command.

But mercy is a betrayal in this place, and your punishment is to be seen and not recognized. It is for you to serve quietly the man you once saved and to suffer silently each time he looks right past you. 

----

A/N: We're back! This time, it's more of a slow burn type of fanfic so please bear with the story. What did you think of how you're a Pink Guard saving the Front Man back when he was still a player and him trying to find you in the crowd? This whole fic will be based on the events of Squid Game Season 1, as it would be like one of the first years of In-ho as the Front Man. :D

Don't forget to leave a comment in this chapter to be tagged on to the next chapter. :)

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taglist: @roachco-k @goingmerry69

hii!! i was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a young inho x reader, something fluffy, maybe like a university!au where the reader and inho are both training for police, and they go from meet ugly to lovers?? nothing too long, just a short little au!!

all up to you if you'd like to pick this up!! love ur current series btw

my kind of distraction (hwang in-ho x reader)

Tags: university!au, inho x reader, enemies to lovers, young in-ho, fluff

Summary: You first meet In-ho at a convenience store, unbeknownst to you that he was also party of the police academy you were training for. On your first day of training, you meet In-ho again and think of him as someone who's arrogant during trainings, as he would criticize you whenever you were partnered with him. Over time, you found yourself looking forward to your trainings together. And when you successfully anticipated his next move, for the first time in a while, he smiled.

A/N: I know I used a Mr. Sunshine GIF for this AU, but it's the perfect scenario of what I pictured in my head. I'm sorry this took awhile as I am still grieving over my father, but here it is! 🫡

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The fluorescent light cast a stark, sterile glow over neatly stacked shelves, the faint beep of the cashier scanning items, and the quiet hum of refrigerators lined with colorful drinks. As you entered the convenience, the smell of instant noodles, cheap coffee, and something fried from the food warmer near the counter reached your nose.

The ground beneath your feet was steady, yet it felt as if you’re walking on air, one breath away from something bigger than your grasp. You took a big step out of your comfort zone, entering the police academy with no connections - just pure luck. For the past few days, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you made a great choice, that it was enough. Enough to prove the fear doesn’t get to hold you back. That growth isn’t meant to be comfortable. 

You sighed as you grabbed an instant ramen on the shelf, with a soda in a can at hand. You had to eat something, at least. The nervousness in taking it all by yourself, taking control of your life, was starting to get to you. At least, in this way, you felt normal.

You didn’t notice him at first. Not until you round the corner of an aisle, trying to get to the cashier, and see him standing by the refrigerated section.

Tall. Composed. Effortlessly self-assured in a way that feels almost deliberate. 

He doesn’t look around, doesn’t hesitate in his movements. His fingers graze over a row of canned coffee, seeing it labeled as Americano as he plucked one off the shelf with a kind of precision that suggests he does this often. There’s an air of distance about him, something cold and untouchable, like he exists in a space just slightly apart from everyone else. 

Even as another customer brushes past him, murmuring a quiet sorry, he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t shift, doesn’t react. He simply steps back as if it’s expected, as if the world should move around him rather than the other way around. The cool blue light of the fridge highlights the sharp angles of his face. You shook your head, an attempt to shake him away from your thoughts as you noticed yourself staring. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Or maybe he has, and he just doesn’t care. 

And then, as if sensing your stare, he lifts his gaze and meets yours.“You see something you like?” He said, voice low and edged with a quiet arrogance. 

You snapped away from your thoughts immediately as you felt your throat tighten, caught between embarrassment and irritation. 

You open your mouth, ready with a sharp retort, but then he turned away. He walked past you without a glance, the scent of coffee and something clean lingering in the air as he passed. It should be unremarkable, just another fleeting moment in a late-night store. 

But something about him stays with you. You don’t know why yet.

Not yet, anyway.

But one thing’s for sure - that annoyed you more than anything else.

——

The universe had other plans. The kind of plan that didn’t think of you, that didn’t care for your feelings. 

“Hwang In-ho.”

You snapped your head up just in time to see him forward as you stood in formation on your first day of training at the police academy, listening to the instructor call out partner assignments. You nearly feel your stomach drop as you see him, the man you met at the convenience store.

He was composed as ever, his expression still unreadable. 

“And you,” the instructor continues, turning toward you. “You’ll be working with him.”

Your gaze stayed still, trying not to show any emotion from what you felt from your first encounter with Hwang In-ho. You avoided his faze as he walks over to stand beside you; something flickers across his face. A moment of quiet recognition.

His eyes drag over you as if to assess you, tilting his head a bit. Then, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“You again,” he murmured, just low enough that only you can hear. 

You straighten your shoulders, trying not to let his arrogance under your skin. “Guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

In-ho smirked, his gaze lingering longer before he looked ahead again, completely at ease. “Try to keep up.”

For the past few months, you trained with In-ho. As much as you wanted to think of him as your equal, you can’t help but feel the rivalry between you two. Beside you, In-ho was already prepared, his stance immaculate, and his confidence radiated like an invisible force. 

The sound of boots scraped against the floor echoed in the small, sparse room. You and In-ho stood in the center. The air was thick with anticipation, and despite the calm exterior, you could feel the adrenaline humming through your veins. Today’s training was all about speed and precision - drawing the weapon fast enough to stop a threat before it had a chance to react.

In-ho had already settled into his stance, the gun at his side, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the space like he could already predict what would happen next. His usual cocky smirk was there, though this time, it had a sharper edge to it.

“You ready to keep up?” In-ho asked, his voice almost mocking.

“Just don’t slow me down,” you replied. You tried to ignore the way his words grated against you. You knew he was trying to test you. Drawing the weapon wasn’t just about speed - it was about control, about making every move count without wasting time. 

In-ho turned his head, his eyes glinting with that same arrogant fire. “You should be thanking me for this. You’ll never get this fast on your own.”

You clenched your jaw but didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. You knew what you needed to do.

“Go.”

Your fingers shot to the grip of the gun, a smooth, practiced motion - except it wasn’t quite smooth enough. Your hand fumbled slightly at first, a split-second delay in pulling the gun free, and that split-second was enough for In-ho to draw your gun away.

In-ho lowered his gun with a grin, his voice dripping with that all too familiar smugness. “You might want to work on that. A slow draw will get you killed before you even start.”

You felt the heat of frustration surge in your chest, but you swallowed it down. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. Yet you didn’t want to lose this time. 

“Let’s do it again,” you said, steadying your breathing.

In-ho gave you a cocky nod, clearly entertained. “Fine. But don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want you to waste all my time.”

You took a step closer, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love to waste more time on me,” you teased, leaning in just enough for him to notice the playful glint in your eyes. “But I think you’re already getting a little distracted.”

In-ho’s expression faltered for a moment, his usual confidence slipping as he caught the shift on your tone. His eyes lingered on you, just a fraction longer than what was considered normal, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something else behind his gaze. 

At that moment, you knew you caught him off guard.

In-ho’s expression shifted, his confidence momentarily shaken as he cleared his throat. “You think you can distract me that easily?” A tight chuckle escaped from his lips.

You shrugged with a smirk. “I’m sure you can handle it. But I think you might be a little more… interested in what I can do.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. For a second, you could see him caught between his usual arrogance and the curiosity that had crept up into his eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, though there was a slight edge to his voice, something more amused than irritated.

“Ready for round two?” You challenged, giving him a wink, this time with more confidence than before. 

“Go.”

The signal came again, and this time, you were ready. Your hand shot to the holster, faster, smoother, pulling the gun with fluid motion from him. You pointed and aimed at In-ho, sending his arms up in surrender. 

For a moment, the room went still. In-ho was caught off guard, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a flicker of surprise. You couldn’t help but grin, your finger resting lightly on the trigger, though you weren’t about to fire.

“You were saying?” You asked, your voice low and teasing.

In-ho blinked, the smile creeping back onto his face, only this time, it was different. There was something more impressed in it, a quiet acknowledgement of the thought that you just won.

“Guess I underestimated you,” In-ho said, his cockiness returning, though with a slight edge of admiration.

You lowered your gun, placing it on your pockets as you wiped your sweat away with a face towel. “You do that a lot, don’t you?” A soft chuckle escaped from you.

To your surprise, he smiled. “You’re full of surprises.” His voice was almost softer now, a subtle warmth in his words.

You felt your heart skip a beat. There was something about the way he looked at you - something disarmingly genuine in the smile that reached his eyes. As you tried to steady the racing of your heart, you swallowed as you let out a small grin. “You have no idea,” you replied.

In-ho watched you for a moment longer, the smile still playing at the corners of his lips. He seemed to favor the tension between you and him before giving a slight nod. “I think I’m starting to.”

----

>> REQUEST HERE

"Shit! What the hell happened?!"

CHAPTER 19 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

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A/N: This chapter mostly consists of Gi-hun's point of view. I have another chapter ready to make up for more moments with In-ho and the reader. 🫶

——

Gi-hun sat in the dimly lit room, fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. The call with Jun-ho had ended, but his mind was far from quiet. His gaze flickered to the glass of liquor on the table before him, untouched. He wasn’t in the mood to drink, at least for now.

Instead, his thoughts drifted away as he thought more about his plans, weighing down each every plan a and b, even up to c, down to the end of the alphabet.

Gyeong-seok had entered the games as Player 246. All for his daughter who was waiting for him in the hospital as the bills pile up, all to save her. Along Gi-hun, he endured the horrors alongside the rest. When the rebellion broke out, he had been shot, though not fatal. 

No-eul made sure of that. Instead of leaving him to die, she dragged him away, patching him up in secret.

Then, she had given him a new identity. 

With No-eul’s help, Gyeong-seok had been disguised as a circle guard, blending into the very system that had tried to kill him. It was dangerous, but it gave them eyes inside.

Gyeong-seok blended inside the system well. It was a good thing the system didn’t care much about the circle guards - they had the lowest ranks. In order to be up, they had to do their tasks diligently well or prove something that would make them worthy of a triangle. Gyeong-seok wasn’t interested at all in being a triangle guard — all for his daughter. He needed a way out of this place, his loyalty still on Gi-hun even when the rebellion played, trusting his plans as the Front Man.

No-eul walked with her head held high, her triangle mask disguising the quickened pulse hammering beneath her ribs. Beside her, Gyeong-seok, dressed as a circle guard, carried the package in his gloved hands - a small, unassuming box containing the pregnancy test.

The air between them was thick with tension, neither of them speaking. They couldn’t as the surveillance cameras watched their every move, but even beyond that, there was an unspoken understanding. If they hesitated or if they so much as faltered, it was over.

Gyeong-seok inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the box. “She doesn’t know yet, does she?” He whispered under his breath.

No-eul shook her head slightly. “Not for certain.” 

Gyeong-seok exhaled, his breath shaky. “Then we’re about to change her entire life.”

They reached the door as the guard stationed outside barely acknowledged them — just another routine delivery from a superior. No-eul knocked once.

Moments later, the door creaked open.

You stood there as you scanned their masks, a sigh of relief coming out of you as you recognized the same guards you approached. No-eul didn’t speak as she simply extended the small box forward.

You reached out hesitantly, fingers grazing the cardboard edges before taking it fully into your hands. Gyeong-seok saw the shift in your expression as your fingers trembled. You swallowed hard, your eyes darting between them.

You gave them a nod and closed the door. No-eul and Gyeong-seok turned without another word, walking briskly down the corridor, leaving you alone with the truth you were about to uncover.

As they rounded the corner, Gyeong-seok exhaled deeply. “That was nerve-wracking.”

No-eul shot him a sharp look. “We did what we had to do.”

“I know,” he muttered. “I just hope she’s ready.”

No-eul didn’t answer. Because the truth was — no one ever really was. 

Gi-hun walked down the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps slow and deliberate. When he turned the corner, he spotted them — Gyeong-seok and No-eul, stationed outside the Overseer’s private suite. They were standing stiffly, exchanging only the occasional glance. There was something tense in the air around them.

Gi-hun slowed his pace, eyes narrowing. He glanced up at the surveillance cameras overhead, their red lights blinking steadily. Too many eyes. With a subtle motion, he tilted his head towards a corridor to the right — one that led to a maintenance area, just outside the CCTV’s coverage.

No-eul caught on immediately. She tapped Gyeong-seok’s arm, and without hesitation, they followed him.

Once they were in the clear, Gi-hun crossed his arms and gave them both a pointed look. “Talk.”

Gyeong-seok hesitated for only a second before exhaling sharply. “We delivered a pregnancy test.”

Gi-hun’s expression didn’t change, but inside his mask, something twisted. He had expected as much, but hearing it confirmed sent a strange unease through him.

“She asked for it?” He questioned.

No-eul shook her head. “We noticed the signs. She was… avoiding it, but it was obvious.:

Gi-hun stared at them, his mind racing. This wasn’t part of the plan. None of this was. And now, she was carrying a child in this place, surrounded by danger, under In-ho’s control. 

His fingers curled into a fist at his side. For so long, revenge had been the only thing driving him forward. It had been simple. But now… now there was her. 

There was a baby. The thought of dragging an innocent life into this chaos made his stomach churn.

He didn’t speak for a long time. No-eul and Gyeong-seok exchanged glances, but they didn’t push him. They knew better.

Finally, Gi-hun exhaled. “You two did the right thing.”

No-eul relaxed slightly, but Gyeong-seok remained tense, watching Gi-hun closely. “What happens now?” He asked.

Gi-hun didn’t answer immediately. He looked past them, toward the suite, where you were. He thought about the plan, the rebellion, the revenge he had spent months working toward.

And for the first time, he hesitated. He turned away, staring at the floor. “I don’t know.”

Gi-hun wasn’t sure why he even came out of the balcony. Maybe it was instinct — the way he had always been drawn to the quiet moments before everything went to hell. Or maybe it was curiosity, watching you stand alone on the balcony, your arms wrapped around yourself, lost in thought.

He had planned this conversation in his head. He would press, prod, and look for the cracks forming in your resolve. A pregnancy in this place? It was a liability — something he could. 

But as he stepped onto the balcony, on the other side you were already there. He leaned against the railing on his balcony, silent for a moment as he let the cool night air settle. The iland was quiet at this hour, save for the distant sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. 

He had spent so much time trying to picture you as the enemy — someone who had chosen this life, to stand beside In-ho, to uphold the very system he despised.

“You should be more careful.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the exhaustion in your eyes. It wasn’t just physical. It was the kind of tiredness that settled deep in the bones, the kind that didn’t fade with sleep. He hesitated.

He knew that at this moment, he had lost whatever leverage he thought he had as he glimpsed onto your belly. No matter how much he wanted to see you as the enemy, he couldn’t ignore what was right in front of him.

Of course, you shot back, still trying to regain your composure. But Gi-hun already knew what you were feeling — what you were so worried about.

“You should tell him soon,” he murmured. “Secrets have a way of eating people alive. And something tells me that this isn’t one you can keep forever.”

A long silence stretched between you. Gi-hun wasn’t thinking about strategy or even thinking about how to manipulate the situation to his advantage. 

He was just looking at someone who was struggling to breathe under the weight of something far bigger than either of you. And for once, he didn’t want to be the one to make it worse.

Gi-hun let out a frustrated sigh as he lit up a cigarette, placing it in his mouth as he puffed a smoke. He had seen people adapt to survival before, but he would never want an innocent life to fight their way into this place, what more for someone who hasn’t even been born yet? 

For a moment, his mind drifted back to the previous game. The way Hyun-ju had stood amongst the players, her shoulders squared, her eyes fierce. She had fought with everything she had, carving her own path through the trials laid before her.

He remembered the sound of her ragged breathing, the way she wiped blood from her face and pushed forward, even when the odds were stacked against her. She had never begged, never pleaded. She had simply fought.

As the rebellion progressed, the rebels were outnumbered. She went back to the dormitory to find out where Dae-ho had been, seeing him shaking nervously as he was wrapped on the bed, his hands over his ears. Just when she was about to grab the ammos back, the guards had already entered the dormitory, their guns pointed at the remaining players inside.

She fought back, not wanting to back down from the system. Just as when she was about to pull the trigger, the square-masked officer entered and walked towards her.

“Come with us,” the guard said, much to Hyun-ju’s surprise. Reluctantly, she pulled the rifle down as she glared at the officer in front of her, not wanting to show weakness. But right then and there, she knew she wouldn’t survive at all.

Even In-ho was impressed, as he ordered the guards to offer him something more in the system. He knew she had no one to turn to in the outside world, knowing how the world treated trans people outside. At least in this place, she had a purpose.

From the moment she wore the square mask, Hyun-ju moved like she had always belonged. There was no hesitation in her step, no sign of unease as she patrolled the halls of the facility alongside the other guards. She carried herself with an ease that suggested she had been doing this for years.

Gi-hun watched from the monitors, arms crossed over his chest, a frown tugging at his lips. “She’s adjusting fast,” he muttered under his breath.

A part of him should have been impressed. It wasn’t easy to slip into this world and go unnoticed. The hierarchy was rigid, the rules were absolute. But Hyun-ju moved through it like water, slipping between the cracks, bending just enough to not break.

She had already learned the unspoken rules — how to keep her head down when necessary, when to speak, and when to stay silent. The other guards barely questioned her presence, accepting her as one of their own.

He watched as Hyun-ju passed by a group of guards, nodding in acknowledgment but never lingering too long. She was smart. She knew how to avoid drawing suspicion while still observing everything. It was almost frustrating how well she was doing as it meant she was slipping deeper into the organization.

And the deeper she went, the harder it would be to pull her out. 

As Gi-hun puffed another smoke, his heart felt heavier as his mind drifted over the fallen players — Geum-ja, Yong-sik, Myung-gi, Dae-ho, and… Jung-bae. 

The worst part was how he couldn’t do anything at that time, watching them through the monitors as In-ho trapped him in an isolated room, watching them die one by one.

He remembered how he watched them fall one by one, their faces and movements struggling as they progressed through the games. Their bodies still held a vivid memory in his mind, scattered across the arena like discarded pieces in a cruel game.

Except for Jung-bae, who was shot by In-ho himself right in front of his eyes with no hesitation.

Geum-ja’s laughter still rang in his ears, sharp and defiant even in the face of death. She had been the first to die, standing tall even as the bullet tore through her. She spat blood, wiped her mouth, and cursed the organization with her last breath.

They had shot her again just to shut her up. The fire in her gaze was still there, that unbreakable will even as her body hit the ground.

Yong-sik lasted longer than anyone expected, his hands trembling though his heart had been steady. He tried to shield a younger player, stepping in front of them without hesitation. But then, the bullet ripped through his back.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air, his fingers clawing at the dirt. The younger player he had tried to save didn’t even look back. He had known what was coming as he still let out a smile before his vision faded into darkness.

“Eomma, wait for me.”

Myung-gi had fought. He had always been a fighter. He didn’t go down easily even when Thanos and Nam-gyu threatened his life a lot of times. 

His screams echoed through the halls as he wrestled with Nam-gyu, blood staining his hands, his face, and his clothes. Nam-gyu didn’t stop, trying to avenge Thanos’ death.  He had beaten him into dirt, but he had still gotten up.

Even with a broken arm, and even with his ribs caving in.

He looked up at Jun-hee one last time, whose face watched in horror as she clutched her belly. He managed to give her a smile as he glanced at her belly.

“Please survive.”

Then with one last punch from Nam-gyu, he was knocked out dead. His body had finally dropped, as if all the fight had finally drained out of him.

Dae-ho was different. Even in the darkness of the games, he managed to keep everyone light. He was strong and resourceful — surviving longer than most. But even the strongest had their limits.

He made it to the final round as the last three players, him, Jun-hee, and Player 021, had been pitted against each other in a brutal endurance challenge, forced to fight until only one remained. 

Dae-ho had held on longer than anyone expected. He was wounded, exhausted, and barely able to stand, but he still fought with everything he had left.

But in the end, it hadn’t been a fair fight. 

He saw Player 021 about to attack Jun-hee, who was sleeping on the other side of the dorm. He immediately noticed the makeshift weapon on his hand — a piece of shattered glass. 

With one last courage he had, as if to redeem the failure of delivering the ammos to the rebels, he ran towards the player and knocked him down. He fought relentlessly, gripping the other player’s neck. Jun-hee opened her eyes, waking up from the grunts near her. She screamed, though she couldn’t move. She felt a sharp pain in her belly as she tried to move.

Dae-ho successfully removes the shattered glass from the other player’s hand, diving the glass into the player’s neck, the blood sputtering out of him. But then, the other player’s reflexes were much faster, gripping Dae-ho’s hand with the shattered glass as he pulled it out of him, much to Dae-ho’s shock.

Then, Player 021 shot the glass into Dae-ho’s neck, letting out an ear-piercing scream as Dae-ho stumbled, clutching at the wound, his hands slick with blood. He had looked up, locking eyes with Jun-hee. He wanted to say something, but the wound was so deep that even the last sign of life faded into him in a snap.

Gi-hun’s hands trembled as he reached for another cigarette in his pocket. The lighter barely caught flame as he lit the end, inhaling deeply, as if the smoke could fill the void their deaths had left inside him. 

Then, the memories shifted towards the closest people he had in the games.

Jung-bae’s last moments weren’t at the hands of the other players. It had been In-ho.

Gi-hun had been there, kneeling in front of the Frontman, forced to watch as Jung-bae knelt on the ground beside him. The moment stretched out endlessly, suffocating in its inevitability. 

Jung-bae stare still haunted Gi-hun as In-ho pointed his gun at him, muttering his name.

“Gi-hun…”

Then, a shot rang out.

Gi-hun flinched as another piece of his resolve splintered away, leaving behind nothing but raw, seething anger as he clutched Jung-bae’s body beside him. 

Jung-bae had died, just like Sang-woo had — in his arms. Another person who could have lived, if not for this cursed game.

But then, Gi-hun’s mind made a dangerous connection. 

It hit him all at once — how you reminded him of Sang-woo. The way you strategized, the way you moved through the games with ruthless efficiency. The way you fought to survive, no matter the cost. But even with that, there was something different. Something he had seen in you that Sang-woo had lost by the end.

Humanity.

You still had it, buried beneath the weight of power and love. You were blinded by it, but it was still there.

Gi-hun exhaled slowly, pressing his cigarette into the ashtray. The ember dimmed, turning to dust. He wasn’t sure if you could be saved.

But he knew that he wouldn’t let you be consumed by the same fate, even if it meant going against you too.

The plan was set in motion. The cracks were forming. Any time, the organization would fall. He just had to time it really well.

But now, there was you. You were a liability.

It was a cruel thought, one he hated himself for even considering. But it was the truth. Your pregnancy complicated everything. It made the plan fragile and uncertain. In-ho would never let anything happen to you. If he even suspected that Gi-hun was plotting against the organization, he would tighten security, make sure nothing touched you or the child growing inside you.

He had promised himself that he would tear his place down, that he wouldn’t let another batch of desperate souls be slaughtered like cattle. The next season of the games was set to begin soon as the selection process was already underway. If he wanted to stop it before it even began, he needed to act now.

But, could he risk it?

His hand moved to his temple, massaging away the headache that had been brewing all day. He thought about you — the way you stood on the balcony that night, staring into the dark horizon, lost in thought. He thought about the weight you carried, the uncertainty in your eyes. 

Would he be willing to put you through even more?

Would he be willing to put your child through it?

Gi-hun’s jaw tighteneed.

Damn it.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

He had planned for everything — the guards, hierarchy, hidden tunnels, external leaks. But he didn’t plan for you to be carrying In-ho’s child, for you to be tangled in something so deep that he wasn’t sure he could pull you out without everything else collapsing.

Gi-hun closed his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose. He needed to decide.

Time was running out.

——

You had lost count of how many times you had woken up on the couch, the ache in your back growing worse with each passing night. But tonight was different.

You were in bed.

Warmth surrounded you as the familiar scent of In-ho filled the air. Your body stirred as you felt something soft and lingering, a gentle press against your forehead. Then another, this time on your cheek.

A kiss.

Your eyelashes fluttered open, and in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you saw him. In-ho was hovering over you, his expression soft in a way you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. His fingers brushed against your hair, tucking a stray behind your ear as his lips ghosted over your skin again.

“In-ho…” your voice was hoarse from sleep, but before you could say more, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

It was different from the ones before. This one wasn’t desperate, fueled by frustration, or unspoken words. It was warm, reassuring, filled with quiet apologies neither of you had spoken aloud. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of your shared space.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “I hated waking up without you beside me.”

Your chest tightened. The past few weeks had been unbearable, the distance, the fights, the silence between you. But here he was, holding you again, and you realized just how much you had missed him too.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your fingers reaching up to cup his face. “I was just… hurt.”

“I know,” he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. “I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve—“ He paused, exhaling shakily. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

You curled into him, burying your face into his neck as his arms wrapped around you. For the first time in weeks, you felt at peace. The rise and fall of his chest soothed you, the steady beat of his heart anchoring you.

And then, you felt a small movement from him.

In-ho pulled back slightly, reaching for something on the bedside table. You frowned as he brought out a small velvet box, his fingers gripping it tightly. Your breath hitched.

“In-ho…?”

He exhaled sharply before opening the box, revealing a ring inside — a simple yet elegant band that shimmered under the soft light.

“I wanted to do this sooner,” he admitted, voice shaking every so slightly. “But everything happened so fast. And I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I hurt you. But please believe me when I say that I love you.” His fingers trembled as he took the ring from its box, holding it between you. “I love you more than anything. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued, his gaze searching yours, raw and vulnerable. “I don’t want to wake up without you ever again. So please…” He swallowed hard. “Marry me.”

A sob escaped your lips as you nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Yes, my In-ho.”

Relief washed over his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly. And the moment it settled in place, he kissed you again. This time, it was deeper, with more urgency, as if he never wanted to let go.

The world outside the suite was cruel, but here, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cruelty melted away. In-ho held you close, your bare skin pressed against his as the soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed you both in warm light. The silence between you wasn’t tense. It was comforting, filled with unspoken emotions, heavy with the weight of everything you had endured.

His fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, absentmindedly following the curve of your spine as you both lay tangled beneath the sheets. You stared at the ceiling, breathing in the lingering scent of him, of the night you had just shared.

It had been slow and tender — nothing like the desperate moments before, where anger or sorrow drove you into each other’s arms. This time, it had been about healing and love.

You sighed, a small smile ghosting your lips. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

In-ho let out a low chuckle. “Of course, I do. You threw a rock at me.”

You laughed, turning your head to face him. “You deserved it.”

He smirked. “I was just trying to get your attention.”

“You were annoying,” you teased, poking his side.

“And yet, you still fell for me,” he countered, his voice dropping into something softer. “Even after everything.”

You swallowed hard. “I never stopped.”

His hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he stared at you, like he was memorizing every inch of you. “Neither did I.”

The room fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t peaceful. A lingering thought hung between you both, unspoken but present.

Jun-ho.

You shifted slightly, breaking eye contact. “I spoke to Jun-ho before,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “He… he gave me options, Told me I could turn you in or that I could live the rest of my life with a lie.”

In-ho stiffened beside you. His fingers tensed against your skin, but he didn’t pull away. He exhaled slowly. “And yet, here you are.”

You nodded. “I couldn’t do it. No matter what you’ve done… I couldn’t betray you.”

He was silent for a long moment, and then he sighed, running a hand through his air. “I’ve tightened security. No one gets in or out without me knowing.”

Your stomach twisted at that. You knew what he was implying. Jun-ho wouldn’t have a second chance at infiltrating this place. If he tried, he would be caught. And you knew what happened to those who got caught.

You turned onto your side, pressing your forehead against his chest. “In-ho…”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “I know,” he murmured.

The warmth of his embrace soothed you, but the unease remained. Then, without thinking, you whispered. “What about Gi-hun?”

In-ho tensed again. You pulled back slightly to look at him, catching the flicker of something dark in his expression. “He’s been a problem,” In-ho admitted, voice low. “For a while now.”

You frowned. “A problem?”

He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “He’s not the same man who won the games. He’s dangerous. He asks too many questions, pushes too hard. He’s always watching, always waiting for something.”

You bit your lip. “Do you think he’s planning something?”

In-ho sighed, rubbing his temple. “If he is, it won’t matter. Not with the security we have in place.”

You nodded, but a strange unease settled in your chest. 

Neither of you knew it yet, anyway.

——

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A/N: For those reading this a bit early, I am currently editing the next chapter and will have it up in a few minutes. Please feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

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Captain John Price

Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3

CHAPTER 01 - once you go in, there's no turning back. (hwang in ho x reader)

masterlist | next chapter

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The sound of baggages rolled to the floor as the familiar smell of Seoul brings you in. You were at the airport, waiting for your suitcase in the baggage claiming platform.

This time, you plan to stay in Seoul for good. You've been away to the country for work, having to work multiple roles in marketing. You felt like you were dominating the world at your hands. Money was never a problem for you, in fact, you could even buy a house in Seoul in just a snap.

For the past years, you kept your studio apartment in Chunghyeon-dong so you could have a place to stay whenever you go back there. In front of your apartment lives the Hwang brothers, In-ho and Jun-ho. You and Jun-ho grew up together, treating him like your little brother. Back then, Jun-ho had a weaker state of health, so playing with him involved a lot of adjustments to his strength. You would look after Jun-ho whenever their parents were away. In those moments, you remember how you and In-ho would share little memories together whenever Jun-ho was taking his afternoon naps. Both of you would watch cartoons on TV, making sure to lower the volume to not wake Jun-ho up.

"Got your nose!" In-ho touched your nose and hid his thumb under his index finger. Being the kid you were, your naivety strikes in. You furrowed your eyebrows and let out a grunt.

"Give it back, oppa!" You said as you try to get his hand, only for him to reach his hand higher, making it harder for you to reach. You grunted as you jumped, trying to reach it. In-ho sticks out his tongue to you as you pull a tantrum.

"Quiet down, Y/N," In-ho said as he dropped his hand to cover your mouth, calming you down. You remember Jun-ho sleeping on the other room. Still, you gave In-ho a glare as he removed his hand. He motions his hand to your nose, giving it a small snap. "Here's your nose back, silly."

You touched your face, playing with the tip of your nose. You stick out your tongue to In-ho to which he only chuckled, putting his hand all over your hair as he messed it up. He grabbed a bag of chips on the table, offering you some. You accepted and turned your attention to the TV. The guy character proposes to his girlfriend, offering her a ring as he gets down on one knee. You gave it a confusing look, not fully understanding the concept of it yet. "Why do they have to kneel when asking to marry someone, oppa?"

In-ho puts his hand on his chin as if to think. He looks up as if there was a thought bubble on the side of his head. "I don't know. Maybe to make it more interesting?"

"Anyone can do that?" You asked, gluing your eyes to the TV as you watched how the girl says yes, wearing the ring on her finger. "You kneel and ask someone to marry you, then that's it?"

In-ho chuckled. "No, silly. Appa says they have weddings."

"Oh," you said, chuckling to yourself. "She looks so happy. Will that make me happy in the future, do you think, oppa?"

In-ho looked at you for a minute, then his face brightened up. In-ho grabbed a piece of paper in one of the notes beside the telephone and a pen. He began to write something on it. Then, he folded the paper into a strip. He looks at you and says, "Give me your hand." You give him yours as he touches your left ring finger, folding the paper around it and twists the end until it fits perfectly. "Does it make you happy then?"

You bring your hand closer to your eye, observing it. Its texture glided through the sides of your finger and you look at In-ho confusingly. "A paper ring?"

"Well, I don't have the real one!" In-ho laughed, earning a laugh from you as well. "Those rings may cost a fortune, it's a privilege you get to have one from me."

You scoffed playfully then looked at the TV, seeing the guy holding flowers as he gave it to the girl. You turned to In-ho again, "Oppa, you don't have flowers."

He thinned his lips and glanced around the living room, looking for something as near as a flower. His eyes stopped at a flower vase placed on top of the kitchen counter. He hurriedly walks over there, picks one up, and returns to you with the flower at hand. He reaches it to you, but you shook your head, much to his confusion. "What, I thought you wanted a flower?"

"That's not how he gave it," you pointed out to the TV to which he looked, seeing the guy hiding the flower from the back first then handing it to the girl, much to the girl's surprise.

In-ho rolled his eyes and sighed. Still, he stood straight and held the flower behind him. Then with a smile, he hands the flower to you. "Happy?"

You ignored his question, too happy to get the flower from his hand. It was a small daisy, holding it on your finger as you giggled. You looked up to In-ho, seeing him smile as he watched you. You stood up and gave him a hug, the flower still on your hand as you kept the paper ring on your finger. "Thank you, In-ho oppa."

You wondered what happened to the brothers as you were apart from them for a long time. You left Seoul when you were nine years old. You remember crying during your last night at the apartment as you never wanted to leave. You just wanted to stay there and be with Jun-ho and In-ho, but you had to move to the US with your family as your appa accepted a job offer there. They wanted you to also be immersed with other cultures as well to give you a lot of advantage to the real world. It wasn't an easy journey as you faced racism in the country, but eventually blended in as years pass by. To your sadness, Jun-ho and In-ho weren't able to go with you to the airport to bid their goodbyes, but you chose to understand. Their family was going through a tough time, especially that Jun-ho has been very ill lately. Instead, you left them both a letter and slipped it at the bottom of their gate, hopefully either of them will be able to read it.

You grabbed your suitcase from the platform and walked through the airport down to the exit, the familiar scent of Seoul coming right at you as you stepped outside. You let out a deep breath and embraced the environment, letting the familiarity run through your body and let out a small smile. You were back home, and you couldn't wait to go back to your apartment.

You held out your hand as you hailed a taxi cab. First thing to do when in Seoul - eat instant noodles in a convenience store. You still remember the store near your apartment, feeling your insides growl as you thought about the taste of kimchi ramen. It's been a long time since you've had one, as the US were more keen on anything fried chicken, fries, and pizza. You missed the taste of kimchi, the one fresh from Korea that you preferred than those in the US.

As you arrived at the convenience store, you thanked the driver and handed out your fare, bowing before exiting the cab. You grabbed your suitcase with you, looking back at the driver to give him another bow. He drove off as you entered the store, the cold breeze of the store hugging you in. Immediately, you grabbed a small basket and filled it with the kimchi ramen instant noodles, kimchi, and a soda.

You settled on your meal as you happily blow out the noodles with your chopsticks, savoring it to your mouth. You let out a small moan, missing the taste of ramen. You looked out the window as you stared into space, thinking of the life you had in here before moving to the US. Though it has been a long time since then, the memories still clung to you realizing the fact that you're back home.

You wondered how In-ho and Jun-ho has been doing. You haven't talked to them in a long time. You don't even know how they look like now as the friendship kind of drifted away because of the distance. Though you could remember how you guys looked like when you were young, but that was it. You kept the paper ring that In-ho made for you on your wallet. You didn't want to forget the friendship or let it die. At least in this way, you still had proof of the amazing friendship you had with the brothers, especially with In-ho.

You remember how In-ho always managed to do something for you. You didn't have to ask, he would simply do it just because. Though you were too young to experience what real love was, but looking back, you realize how both of you were able to experience a genuine, innocent puppy love. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how In-ho always lost when playing paengi chigi. You taught him how to do so, always making sure that he played with his left hand. He wanted to impress you with the ability of doing it with both hands, but you only teased him whenever he tries to do it with his right hand.

Gong-gi was expected to be played by girls a lot, and you always wondered why that's the case. You always sucked at gong-gi, but boy, In-ho was one hell of an expert when playing it. You were more familiar with paengi chigi. In return, In-ho would teach you how to play it. It was odd how both of you always practiced playing these games as if you were competing in an olympic game, but you enjoyed spending time with In-ho. He seemed like he did to.

"Do you think they have an olympics for paengi chigi and gong-gi?" In-ho wondered, rolling the rope all over the top.

"I'm not sure," you shrugged. "But that would be interesting!"

"Let's team up when we get the chance then," In-ho grabbed the top and threw it on the ground, holding it back to make it spin. The top spun around perfectly, earning a smirk from In-ho. You jumped happily, looking as the top perfectly spun on the ground. You see In-ho adjusting his black glasses as he smiled. "You promise to team up with me?" He held out his pinky finger to you, gesturing a promise.

You grinned as you wrapped yours with his, a promise officially made. "I promise!"

A man with a backpack knocks on the window in front of you, snapping you away from your thoughts. You look at him and he waves, earning a confused look from you. You wave reluctantly and sees him rushing to the door, entering the store.

"Noona!" The man called out as he placed his backpack on the table beside you and excitedly sat on the chair next to you. "It's been so long!"

Noona? You remember only one person ever called you that throughout your stay in Seoul.

Your eyes widened upon the realization and felt tears forming in your eyes. You held your arms wide as a motion for a hug. "Jun-ho!" You motioned his body to hug you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. "Oh my, look how you've grown!"

"I missed you so much, noona. Since when did you come back? A lot has changed here since you left," you hear Jun-ho sniff, pulling back from you as he wipe his tears. You gave him a comforting smile. You gestured to offer your ramen, but he politely declined.

"I just arrived an hour ago," you told him. "I'm staying for good. Besides, I missed you and In-ho so much!"

You saw Jun-ho's smile slowly fade, much to your confusion. Then as if he realized it, he regained his smile and nodded. You knew he was so happy to see you, having taken care of him when you were young when he was ill. You and Jun-ho catch up on lost times, updating each other on what happened after you left Seoul.

You put your hand in shock when you found out about In-ho. You couldn't imagine how In-ho handled his situation - his wife passing, drowned in debt, borrowing money only to be taken as a bribe, fired from his job. You always looked up to In-ho who became such a protective and loving brother to Jun-ho, only to be treated by life so harshly. You also found out In-ho missing for the past few years. Jun-ho averted your gaze as he mentioned it, earning a gut feeling from you that he was trying to hide something.

You didn't want to pry, but you couldn't help but feel concerned for In-ho. Maybe he left somewhere to clear his thoughts - it was understandable knowing about the things he had to endure. If anything, you know how Jun-ho cared for his older brother deeply. He mentioned joining the police force and being a detective because of In-ho, looking up to his old brother as an inspiration. In-ho, being the selfless person he is, donated his kidney to Jun-ho. You remembered how limited the time was for Jun-ho when playing outside - he was in constant care then. And now, seeing him all grown up and being the amazing person he is now, you can't help but shed a tear. You looked at him with a smile, telling him how proud you were of him.

"We got your letter," Jun-ho said as he grabbed his wallet from his backpack, picking up the letter that was hidden on the inside pocket. "I can't believe you didn't tell us that you had to leave, Y/N. How dare you leave without a prior notice." He pouted and you chuckled, pinching a bit of his cheek.

"I guess I've always sucked at goodbyes, huh?" You said as you take a sip of your soda. "I wish I was able to give you both a proper goodbye instead of writing a letter. For what it's worth, I kept the paper ring that In-ho gave me so I couldn't forget our friendship."

Jun-ho furrowed his eyebrows as if to think, then let out a sigh of relief. "So, that's what hyung has been saying..." You raised an eyebrow in confusion and he continued, "Hyung mentioned something about a paper ring. When we got your letter, he immediately ran out to your apartment in an attempt to at least find you. Too bad you already left. He was crying, noona."

You thinned your lips, imagining how In-ho must've felt when you left. You didn't think that you made such a big impact to In-ho as much as he did on you. The feeling has been mutual, and you couldn't quite believe that the feelings you had over the years were real. All this time, you thought it has all been one-sided.

"For some reason, he always requested to have daises in our house," Jun-ho continued. "I couldn't figure it out then. I asked eomma about it, and she said that hyung was experiencing his first heartbreak." He shook his head, chuckling as he did so. You listened intently as you feel butterflies fly around your stomach. "Eomma told him that if the time is right, he would see you again."

"I guess I have to work harder on finding him, hmm?" You said as you looked out the window. "I wonder how he met his wife. I'm sure she seemed lovely."

"No need to be jealous, noona," Jun-ho chuckled, earning an eye roll from you. "But it's true, she was lovely. In fact, she was a lot like you. You would've loved her."

You smiled, thinking how In-ho probably felt happy when he found someone for him. Though it's bittersweet how his wife passed, along with their unborn child. You hoped that in any way, In-ho was still doing fine. You wished for him to find the happiness he deserves, may it be not here in Seoul.

"Do you have any leads where In-ho is?" You asked Jun-ho, who seemed to flinch at your question. You shot him a confused look as he stared into space, but then he shook his head as if shaking away his thoughts.

"No," his lips twitched. If there was anything that you didn't forget over the years is how much of a bad liar the brothers were. You looked away, silence rushing between you and Jun-ho. There was something going on, but as you observed Jun-ho's eyes, guilt was evident right there and then. When you opened your mouth to say something, Jun-ho turned his eyes to your suitcase. "Noona, I can help you settle at home. Would you like that?" He excitedly grabs it and positions it next to him instead.

You grinned as you finished your ramen, quickly damping your mouth with a tissue as you finished. "Of course, Jun-ho. Let's go."

----

A/N: And finally, here it is! This is my first time writing a series on Tumblr. I'm planning on publishing this to AO3 as well as I see a lot (like really, A LOT) of In-ho fanfics, I couldn't miss out on it! I've written fanfics on Wattpad before on different fandoms so this isn't all new to me. Still, I hope you guys enjoy my writing! Feel free to leave out your thoughts and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this chapter to be tagged on to the next chapter. :)

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CHAPTER 03 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in-ho x reader)

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"If you wish to participate, please state your name and date of birth."

The voice on the other line was cold, but seemingly joyful. It didn't seem like your typical customer service call. You had a feeling that it was unsafe - maybe this call could lead to trafficking. Maybe the games were just a front to invite the so-called players in this scheme. Still, it didn't make sense to you. For some reason, you felt like this was calling for you. Something was going on out there, and you were more than curious to know what was out there.

You looked at the card once again, trying to examine each detail of it. It was hard to decipher what was on it, just the symbols and number there. Yet, you still went on to answer the voice, stating your name and date of birth.

After a brief pause, the voice on the other line replied. "Information confirmed. Your designated pickup location is as follows," you took a deep breath, mentally taking note of the next information. "October 31, 2024. Midnight. Club HDH." Then, the line went dead.

October 31? That was tomorrow, you thought. If it was being held in a club, then there would be a party for sure. You had to blend in and see for yourself what the call was saying, so you hurriedly walked back to your apartment to look for possible clothes you could wear in the party. Though you didn't have much, but you thought of looking a bit like grim reaper, wearing an all black outfit. You unlocked your glass door and slid it open, rushing to your cabinet to see what outfit you can come up with.

In just a few minutes, you heard a truck beeping outside. You turned around for a moment, seeing the truck from the furniture store you bought from. You slid the glass door open once again, signaling a hand wave to let them in.

You went back to your cabinet, still trying to come up with an outfit. You couldn't lie - you were enjoying the thrill of it. Knowing how something was awaiting for you out there, and it's for you to find out. No matter how dangerous it is, you know how to back out. The thrill was just to find out how to.

The workers start to place your furnitures, all wrapped in plastics. They place each furniture carefully. The sound of their footsteps were enough of a white noise for you as you rummaged through your clothes, finding the best one you could have.

There, you hung a black coat, turtle neck, and pants and hooked it on your door cabinet. You smirked to yourself, the image of you wearing the outfit already draws you. This was it. Though you didn't have the scythe blade that a typical grim reaper has.

"That would be all, miss," one of the workers approached you. You turned to him and saw him handing you a pen and paper for you to sign. "You may just sign here to confirm your delivery."

"Alright," you signed the paper, reading its terms & conditions. You handed him back your signed papers, giving him a nod. "Thank you."

The worker gave you a bow, then turned to his colleagues, waving his hand to signal that everything was finished. All together, they bowed once again before exiting your apartment.

After what seemed like hours, you turned to the clock. It was already 10pm. Finally, you wore your grim reaper outfit, its coat gripping your curves perfectly but enough for room to breathe. You pulled up the hood and looked at yourself in the mirror, enough to look like the grim reaper, minus the scythe blade.

You made your way to the Club HDH, hailing a cab this time so you could arrive on time. Groups of people gathered even outside the club, wearing their Halloween costumes consisting of grim reapers, police officers, nurses, anime references, and more. Though a lot of them kept their masks on, you didn't have yours. You didn't bother buying one, just in case you see the salesman to recognize you.

People started to crowd around the club, a long line of them waiting outside to get in. You could hear the bass of the raving music inside. You walked to the front of the line as you saw the bouncer reading a list. It must be the invitation list, so you walked up to him to signal your presence. His tall figure gazed at you, waiting for you to speak.

You cleared your voice as you spoke, "Y/N". The bouncer looked at you for a moment then his eyes went over the list, trying to find your name. His finger stopped at a row, giving you a bit of glance on the list. Your name was listed there. You gave a small smile as he motioned his hand for you to enter, giving him a nod as you went inside.

Inside, the pulsing bass thrummed in the air. You couldn't even hear your footsteps anymore, just the beat of each music pumping close to your heart. Though it wasn't enough to bring you to total deafness, but inside was loud. Very loud. You wondered how the caller would recognize you, or the salesman. You tried to piece some of the things together as you navigated your way inside the club, squeezing yourself as you walked past people.

The air was thick, reeking each person of alcohol as you squeezed through them. You weren't sure if it was cigarettes you were smelling, or something else. Either way, your mission was to be found by someone. You should've asked for a name on the call, but it seemed like they knew who you were. You looked at the stage, seeing numerous people dancing on it. You watched intently, trying to enjoy the party despite being alone.

You felt a tap on your shoulder behind you, turning your attention to the man who stared at you intently, only to be met with a confused look. "What?" You asked, your voice loud enough for him to hear. He kept his eyebrows furrowed which was weird for you. It seemed like he was looking for someone, but it wasn't you.

He said nothing and walked away, your gaze stuck to him as he squeezed himself from the crowd. Confusion was evident on your face, wondering who that man was. The man seemed to be in his 40s, but he seemed tense. As if he was on a mission to find someone. He had an earpiece in his left ear. Maybe he was a cop, you thought. You tried to follow him, but he lost his way through the crowd, nowhere to be seen.

A tall figure stood in front of you, seeing his pink jumpsuit with a mask. You figured out what his costume was, but his mask only had a square symbol on it. You tried to move past him, but he stood still, feeling his gaze toward you. You looked up to him and shot him a confused look. Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, his muffled voice was loud enough for you to hear. "Player 002, come with me."

Player 002? So, the games are real. The masked man's voice was commanding, as if you had no choice but to follow them. You walked with him, making your way towards what seemed to be the back door. You walked up the stairs, following pursuit to the masked man. He stayed quiet and cold, the footsteps only making its sounds as you were led to a door. The masked man opened it, revealing the outside. A white limousine was there, as if waiting for you. You looked at the masked man, his mask only facing you. You took it as a sign for you to get in, reaching your hand to the door and opened it, greeted with a sight of luxury as you sat on the leather seats. You noticed a golden pig in front of you, its eerie presence enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Player 002," you sat up, shocked by the sudden voice. It seemed as though the sound came from the golden pig, much to your confusion. "Welcome to the games."

You only stayed silent, staring into the golden pig as you tilted your head in confusion. Just when you were about to open your mouth to speak, a cloud of smoke spread on to the air, your eyes feeling heavy as you tried to fight it, only to fail.

You felt your head fell on the back of seat, your hands trembling as your vision starts to blur. Your hearing becomes distorted, but you could see a window behind the golden pig, sliding open upwards. You squinted your eyes, trying to make sense of your vision.

There, you saw a man with a mask, but there were no symbols on it. Only a black geometric mask, staring at you. You felt the limousine drive off, your eyelids closing as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

----

From what seemed like forever, you heard a classical music right out, awakening your senses. Despite your eyes still closed, you could tell the light was on. You slowly open your eyes, trying to make sense of everything around you.

You sat up, seeing stacks of beds. More people came out, wearing a green tracksuit with numbers with a confused look plastered on their faces. You looked down on yourself, seeing that you were wearing the same. You see your tracksuit labeled "002".

You looked around, trying to observe the area. You were at the very top of the deck, enough for you to observe every detail. The walls painted teal, with white tiles forming that seemed to have drawings on it, though you couldn't see it clearly due to the stack of beds. You tried to count the people inside, but there were a lot. Like, A LOT. You looked up and saw somewhat like a piggy bank, a transparent one colored yellow. Then, you looked to your left, seeing a television with the numbers displayed, "456".

You figured there were 456 players inside, indicating that you're player 002, as you would remember the masked man calling you. You saw two doors from each side, seeing somewhat like a guard standing outside the door. From then on, you figured you were inside a dormitory alongside the other players. Not fully trusting the people inside, you thought it was better to be by yourself, and only team up if needed. If you had to team up with others, you need to be careful in trusting to have someone with you.

The classical music stopped, replaced with a buzz from an alarm. You turned your head to the big door, a group of masked men led by a square-masked man, the other guards following the leader, but their masks had a circle symbol. The players formed a crowd in the middle of the room, but you stayed sitting on your bed.

"I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you," the square-masked man said, his voice muffled but enough for everyone to hear, echoing through the room. "Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

From what you remember on what the salesman said, if you wanted to see if you were still good at playing ddakji, then you could play more games like it. From the looks of it, the system might let you play kids' games. If this was a gambling house, you would've been beaten to death the moment you woke up. 

"Excuse me," a woman shouted from behind. You looked at her number, "120". She walked down the stairs, looking at the guards. "You said I'd be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me. So, how can I believe that?"

Every player turned their heads to guards, waiting for an answer. You turned your attention to the guard though you couldn't see their reactions, but they just stood still. "I apologize. Please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game's security." 

"What's with the mask then?" Another woman called out. "Is your face also a secret?"

"Yeah!" A man followed to speak. "Why are you hiding your face? Is this some kind of illegal gambling house?" 

The same woman spoke out. "Even the dealers don't cover their faces in those places."

Murmurs start to spread around the room, each player trying to make sense of where they were. You stayed silent, observing the crowd. You shared your sentiments with the other players, but trust seemed like a brutal aspect of this game, and in order to win, you should be careful. 

"To ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff," the masked manager stated. "Please understand."

It was more of a command than a request, you thought. Though it didn't make sense to you why the staff wouldn't reveal their faces and identities, but the players' faces were exposed. Though you didn't know each others' identities, maybe it was up to you if you would reveal them or not.

You thought hard, trying to take your attention away from the commotion below. You could hear the other players continue asking their questions on where their clothes were, their shoes being limited edition, and another player requesting if they could wear the pink jumpsuits that the guard had, just because she liked the color pink.

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. For some reason, this generation always create a way to amuse things up. You notice the guard seem unfazed, ignoring the small laughs in the room.

"I'm sorry, but that is not possible. You must be in your uniforms for the games." 

Player 333 squeezed his way to the front, trying to reach the guards. "What about my phone? Why did you take my phone and wallet? Give them back, please."

You motioned your hands to your pockets, feeling it empty. A shock was sent to you, realizing that you didn't have your phone and wallet with you. You looked around if there were a stash of belongings around, or at least a cabinet or drawer for the players' belongings. Nothing was there. The only thing in there was your presence with the other players and the stack of beds.

"We're keeping your belongings safe," the masked manager said, his voice said strangely reassuring. "We'll return them once the games are over."

"I need to monitor the realtime prices!" Player 333 exclaimed in frustration. "Do you know how much I've invested?"

"Player 333, Lee Myung-gi," the masked manager coldly stated, a remote on his hand and motioned to the television, opening it. A clip of a man playing ddakji was shown then being slapped right after. You observed the clip, the background seemingly familiar to you. It only dawned to you when you saw yourself on the background, watching the game. 

Your eyes widened, realizing that it was the night that you played ddakji with the salesman. He had a hidden camera placed on him, recording the games he played. That was a breach of data privacy, you thought. You were curious what it looked like when you played with the salesman, waiting for your face to be shown on the television. 

"Age 30, used to run a YouTube channel called MG Coin. After convincing subscribers to invest a new crypto coin called Dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won," the masked manager continued, earning gasps from the crowd as Myung-gi was slapped. "You're wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws." The masked manager briefly paused, then continued to speak again. "Current debt levels, 1.8 billion won." 

"Player 196, Kang Mina, 45 million in debt."

"Player 120, Choi Hyun-ju, 330 million won in debt."

"Player 230, Choi Subong, 1.19 billion won in debt."

"Player 198, Jang Doyeong, 1.4 billion won in debt."

The number of debts seemed to flow like forever, your mouth opened in shock as you absorb the debts you've been hearing. You never knew how people can drive themselves to situations like this, being in debt and failing to pay them on time. As for you, you always paid in time when it came to bills, subscriptions, and such. Your parents worked hard to give you the life you had in California, teaching you how to handle money properly and to be responsible with anything, especially with money. You were thankful for that, knowing how hard they worked to give you a comfortable life.

"Player 100, Im Jeongdae," the masked manager made a brief pause, and started to speak again, as if he was bracing for the crowd's response. "Ten billion won in debt."

The gasps from the crowd were evident, some of their eyes widening, and putting their hands on their mouth, clearly shocked. Even you couldn't believe what you heard. How can someone be in debt for 10 billion won?

"Ten billion? Who's that? Who is it?" The player jumped to look at the crowd, trying to find who Player 100 is.

Then, an elderly man shouted from the middle, earning a gasp from the players beside him. "What are you looking at? Do you think it's easy to get a ten billion won loan? They don't lend that kind of money to just anyone! Only to those who are capable of paying it back."

You shook your head in disbelief. Though you didn't know the experience of being in debt, you understood that maybe, something happened along the way why they became like that. It's either greed for money or any fortuitous event. 

"All of you in this room have crippling debts are now on a cliff edge," the masked manager stated, pausing the murmurs in the room. "When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. And so you trusted us, and volunteered to participate according to your own free will." 

You eyed the masked men intently, absorbing the manager's words. You understood the fact that they aimed to recruit players who were in debt, but you weren't. Did they miss the part where you voluntarily joined the games? Where you were the one who offered to give a 100,000 won to the salesman? You weren't in debt. You weren't in the brink of financial crisis. In fact, money was never a problem to you at all.

Though the only statement that resonated with you was volunteering to participate to your own free will. 

----

A/N: I enjoyed so much writing this chapter that I had to cut it a bit short! At least, I get to start with the next chapter and most probably will be uploaded faster this time. 🤩 Feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged on the next chapter! ✨

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TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr

And then you and I will be enemies, too. One of us will have to kill the other. Fine by me.

CHAPTER 08 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

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----

You nearly passed out after the six-legged pentathlon game. You didn't realize as soon as you went back to the dormitory, you were fast asleep on supposedly on Hyun-ju's bed, but she didn't mind.

You felt your throat starting to sore, probably from the screaming you did earlier. You were in need of water so much. Plus, you felt your head throb a bit as you realized that you haven't had any breakfast yet.

"Oh, so that's how you got yourself those too?" You heard Guem-ja asked, but you didn't listen that much. It seemed she was talking to Hyun-just, hearing her deep, raspy voice close to... a man?

You didn't judge. In fact, it wasn't a problem at all. She still seems nice, and whatever made her decide to press O probably had something to do with her transforming. You knew how expensive those procedures were, yet you can't help but feel a sense of admiration for her as she continues to embrace herself, one where she's confident and feels true to her.

You head the door open as footsteps thudded to the ground. You slowly open your eyes, noticing a blanket tucked over you. Hyun-ju turned her attention to you and gave you a smile. Realizing you were sleeping on someone's bed, you quickly sat up and bowed. "Oh, I'm sorry for sleeping here. I felt so dizzy after the game."

"It's alright," Hyun-ju assured. "Did you have a good nap?"

You nodded, tucking away the blanket. "Very much so. I feel better now."

"That young lady made it!" You heard Geum-ja say excitedly.

"Who?" Yong-sik asked, scanning the room.

"The tiny young lady," Geum-ja replied. You quickly looked at the group of people walking, seeing Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, In-ho, and Player 222.

You rose from the bed and climbed down, waving your hand at Jung-bae who saw you. "Hey!"

Geum-ja and Yong-sik waved as well, seeing the relief in their faces, especially for Geum-ja. You knew how she must probably care for Player 222 so much, and you couldn't help but feel the same. You sighed in relief as you realized that they survived.

"I'll just go with them for awhile," you bowed to the group. "They're my friends. Are you guys going to be okay here?"

Geum-ja held both of your hands and caressed them with her thumb, feeling some sort of motherly care in the place. "Yes, yes. As long as you take care of yourself, alright? Please also tell me if that young lady needs anything," she pointed to Player 222 whose back was already turned, motioning for Gi-hun's group position. "I used to care for pregnant women, so please, please let me know if she's feeling anything, okay?"

You nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "I will. Thank you, eomoni."

You gave Yong-sik, Hyun-ju, and Young-mi a bow before turning away, making your way towards Gi-hun group. They seemed to be in the middle of conversation, hearing Dae-ho explain about his father fighting in the Vietnam war. You noticed In-ho smiling, his aura light and expressive that was completely different when you first saw him, and how he dismissed you earlier.

Dae-ho stood up and looked at you, noticing you were already there. He excitedly waves his hand, motioning for you to join. Jung-bae and Gi-hun smiled at you, and Player 222 motioned a space for you to sit. You avoided your gaze from In-ho, noticing how he was looking at you intently again.

"Listen, perhaps we should learn each other's names," Dae-ho said eagerly. "I still don't know your names, gentlemen. Or yours, miss," he looked at Player 222. He took a deep breath and held out his arm. "I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. Dae means 'big', Ho means 'tiger'."

"Wow, big tiger. Cool name," Jung-bae chuckled as he motioned his hand like a claw, imitating a tiger. He then turned his eyes to everyone. "My name is Park Jung-bae. Righteous and twice. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

Player 222 spoke quietly. "My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't know what it means though."

"Hmm," you placed your hand on your chin as if to think. "I think it means something related to a lucky charm."

"That's right!" Jung-bae exclaimed. "She flipped the ddakji on the first try. It was so cool!"

You chuckled and gave Jun-hee a small pat on her shoulder, her face lighting up as she smiled. Just then, you heard In-ho speak up, looking at Jun-hee. "Jun-hee, when you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

Jun-hee nodded in agreement. You rubbed her back as you felt her tense a bit, probably not used to the attention that much. She gave you a small smile as she held her belly.

"I'm Oh Young-il."

Your hand stopped as you looked at In-ho, or Young-il, as he introduced himself. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why he didn't give his real name. He seemed to avoid your gaze as he spoke, his lips twitching a bit. Your instinct tells you that he was lying, but at the same time, you started to question yourself.

Was he really not the In-ho you knew? Is that why it seemed as if he dismissed you? Were you just dreaming when you saw him hear you call his name? Was it all just a dream?

"Young-il?" You asked confusingly. He looked at you abruptly then turned to his tracksuit, now avoiding your gaze. You knew he was lying.

"Young-il sounds like 'zero one', and that's my number," he chuckled, still avoiding your gaze as he looked at Jung-bae instead. "Easy to remember."

"Oh, that's true!" Dae-ho exclaimed, pointing his finger at Young-il's tracksuit. "Your name is your number."

Young-il looked at Gi-hun and proceeded to ask. "Oh, Gi-hun. What's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun replied, looking at everyone.

"Seong literally means last name," In-ho laughed, much to everyone's confusion. Each of you stared at him weirdly as his laughter continued. You eyed him as you noticed him looking at everyone, the only exception was you.

He was clearly lying, and him avoiding his eye contact with you was enough to determine that he's under a fake name. You decided to stay silent, but planned to confront him after when everyone isn't around.

You snapped away from your thoughts when the alarm buzzed, the doors opening to reveal the group of guards.

"Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game," the square-masked guard announced. "Here are the results of the second game." He motioned his arm with a remote in his hand, pointing it to the piggy bank.

The lights dimmed, the piggy bank now acting as the light in the room. The TV displayed the growing number of the prize money as money rained inside the piggy bank, much to everyone in awe.

"In the second game, 110 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person's share is 78,823,530 won."

"Wait, what?" Another player exclaimed, seeing his patch with the O sign. "It's still under 100 million? It's not even 80 million."

"Only 110 people died? Is that all?" Another player asked, much to your disbelief. "Did you count them right?"

Only 110 people? If this was held in the outside world, this was already considered a massacre. In just 2 days, 110 people already died by just playing children's games. This was madness. The world was a scary place indeed.

"Fuck. I almost died twice, and that's all I get?" You heard another player say near you. "I'd get more money than that if I let somebody beat me up!"

You looked at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of how these people can be okay with people dying here at the expense of money.

"I completely understand your disappointment," the square-masked guard said. "However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not." The circle-masked guards from behind brought the voting machine consisting of the O and X buttons. You didn't realize how it looked more like a gift box, with a ribbon wrapped around the top. "Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice."

You scoffed. "We're being manipulated in this game. Trying to not take any accountability, huh." You muttered to yourself.

"Please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner."

You shook your head in disbelief as Gi-hun looked at you, the worry on his face so evident. You knew how he wanted to save everyone and leave this place. He seemed to have a plan for everyone after leaving this game, and you wanted to trust that.

You noticed Jung-bae looking at the piggy bank more than usual, probably rethinking his decision. You looked at Gi-hun as he stared at In-ho's O patch. He seemed to notice this as he touched his patch briefly. "Don't worry. I want to stop here too. I should go and be with my wife at the hospital."

That didn't add up again. His wife was dead, as far as you can remember. Nothing was making sense at all.

"I'm telling you. We'll get out this time," Dae-ho said with determination. He touched his O patch and cursed at it. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat. Isn't that right, brother?" Dae-ho grabbed Jung-bae's shoulder.

Jung-bae turned around and nodded, though he seemed to be reluctant. "Yeah, you're right. Marines aren't invincible. We should get out."

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun said. "I will help you guys out when we get out."

You stepped forward, giving them all a smile. "I will too." You saw Gi-hun look at you confusingly as you continued, "I'm not in debt. Far from that. Jun-hee, I can go be with you at the hospital to help with your check-up."

"Unnie," Jun-hee said quietly, eyeing you. "Why are you here if you're not in debt then?"

You sighed deeply. This was it. There's no way out for you to lie on this one. Unlike In-ho, you decided to come clean. "I played ddakji with the recruiter on the subway because... well, I wanted to try and see if I was still good at playing the game," you placed your hand on the back of your head, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Guess I made the wrong choice, huh?" You chuckled sheepishly. "I left Seoul when I was a kid and moved to the States for a long time. I came back here for good because well, this is my home. It's where I belong."

"You seemed to have a good life back in America if that's the case. Why did you have to come back?" you heard In-ho ask from behind, his eyes fixed on you.

You gulped before speaking, your gaze not leaving him. "I came to look for someone." For a second, In-ho's eyes flickered. You couldn't tell if he felt regret or some sort of recognition, but he was able to mask it well.

Dae-ho leaned in with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he dragged out a tease. "Is that someone your boyfriend, Y/N? That's so romantic!"

"He's... not my boyfriend," your eyes lingered on In-ho as you spoke. "But he's someone important in my life. I grew up with him when I stayed in Seoul. We were inseparable. But, I had to leave. I left without saying goodbye," you paused as the memory of you leaving flooded back as if you were back to that scene. "I knew we'd always be connected. No matter where we were, no matter what happened, we'd always be there for each other - always and in all ways."

In-ho's stare was unwavering, sharp, and deliberate as if daring to acknowledge the unspoken tension between you two. Your gaze clung to him as your eyes glistened with unshed emotions as if begging him to see how you missed him. You knew right then and there that it was In-ho you were looking at, not the Young-il he pretended to be. For a moment there, he looked like he might actually say something.

Then, just like that, he laughed. It was sharp and bitter. Like something was jagged to this throat, the hurt coming out as you felt it pierce your heart.

"People do that a lot, don't they?" In-ho mused, tilting his head slightly. "They all come back hoping to find something... only to realize it was never there to begin with."

"Yeah," you whispered, holding back your tears as you nodded slowly. "I guess so."

You hoped that something, or anything, that the boy you had once known would still be there. But in his eyes, you only saw a stranger. "If you're looking for something that's long gone, maybe you're wasting your time."

Your gaze locked on to his, and for a moment, everything seemed to slip out from your hands - your heart, your memories, your In-ho. It was all just gone, replaced with the avoidant and cruel Young-il.

"Young-il, you can't just shut her down like that," Gi-hun took a step forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "That's harsh."

"It's not a big deal," you spoke up, your voice trying not to crack. "He said maybe. He has a point."

Gi-hun, still caught in the confusion, glanced back at you, his face softening with empathy. "You'll find him soon, once we get out of there, hmm?"

You nodded, feeling thankful for Gi-hun's efforts. "I guess I'm the only one holding on," you murmured. "But he's right. It doesn't matter."

You turned away, the finality of it hitting you like waves. You didn't want to dwell too much on your feelings, thankful for the fact when Dae-ho held out his hand for everyone to stack theirs. "Let's huddle up."

You stacked your hands up along the others while In-ho stacked his on top of yours. You tried to ignore his touch, remembering how he dismissed you earlier.

"In one, two, three. Victory at all costs!" Dae-ho exclaimed with determination, as all of you cheered.

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001," the square-masked guard announced. "Player 001, please cast your vote."

Everyone's eyes turned to In-ho, or so he introduced himself as Young-il. His eyes darted over you before walking towards the buttons. The room was thick with anticipation, his every step echoing in the silence as he walked. You notice his head facing upward, seeing the TV up. He was the first to vote, and you trusted that he would press X this time.

The red light shone on his face as he pressed X, a sigh of relief coming out of you as did the other players. He removed his O patch and replaced it with the X patch, walking towards the X area.

"Player 002."

You walked towards the voting machine, moving with a quiet, measured pace, your footsteps steady but purposeful. Your gaze flickered to the buttons, X or O, ready for you to decide. You didn't hesitate as you pressed the X button, the red light shining on your face as you saw the X results come for 2. You took a step back, walking towards the X area near Young-il.

The silence between you and In-ho was almost oppressive as the quietness of the room amplified the tension that clung to your skin. You both stood there, still and composed. You took a quick glance at him, only to find him already looking at you, making your heart skip.

"Player 007."

It was a brief eye contact, seeing a brief of the In-ho you knew than this In-ho he claimed to be. But the longer he looked at you, the more it hurt. In those seconds, you knew that even if he may have remembered something in the past, he wasn't going to let it through.

You abruptly looked at the TV as you saw the O results come up with 1. Your jaw dropped seeing Yong-sik vote for O, replacing his X patch with the O patch. You looked at Geum-ja, who seemed to be surprised with her son's decision as well. Knowing Geum-ja, she probably warned her son first before voting, only for Yong-sik to choose a completely different path.

You noticed more and more players voting for O, much to your horror. The more you stayed in this place, the more feelings of regret continued to stick through you.

"Player 095."

You were confident that Young-mi would press X as a sigh of relief came out from you when she did so. She walked towards next to you, giving her a reassuring smile as you held her hand for a bit, trying to calm her down.

Your eyes focused on the TV as you see more players vote, your emotions feeling as if they're on a rollercoaster as the votes alternated with X and O. Your hopes crushing as you see the O votes leading.

"Player 120."

Hyun-ju took a while to decide. When you noticed her hands flicker to the O button, you stared in horror a she pressed it, the blue light shining in her face as the O vote increased.

"Unnie," Young-mi mumbled as she looked at Hyun-ju, seeing them lock gazes for a while. You could sense Hyun-ju's hesitation as she went to the O area, her 0 patch remained in her tracksuit.

X - 33, O - 36

"Everyone!" Gi-hun shouted from behind the crowd. Though you felt a movement on your side as you saw In-ho moving towards the middle.

"Are you all out of your minds?" In-ho exclaimed in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed together. "You still want to keep going after watching all those people die? Who's to say you won't die in the next game?" He walked towards the back, eyeing each and every player. "We have to stop. We'll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money." He gritted his teeth as he spoke, his words spewing out with frustration. "You've got to survive first, or there won't be a next step."

"What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?" Jeong-dae walked towards In-ho, raising his voice. "I don't know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn't even cover 10% of their debt. Am I right?" He yelled as the other players nodded in agreement. "There's no next step for us! That money won't change anything!"

"With that amount of money, I won't last long," Player 043 shouted, pointing at the piggy bank.

"It was 25 million after the first game," Jeong-dae continued. "And now, it's 78 million. After one game, the amount more than tripled! If we play one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million!"

"But I can't do this anymore," Young-mi cried out, tears forming in her eyes as her breath trembled. "Please. Please let me out of here. I really want to go home. I don't want to die."

"Young lady," another player spoke, his face pleading as he almost sobbed. "You're young, so you'd probably have another chance. But I don't. My family and I have no future. My business failed, and now I owe over 500 million. I've got to make at least half of that there if I want a real shot at a fresh start."

"What if you die?" You called out, questioning his statement as you walked towards the middle. "Then it would be the end for you and your family! Can you carry on living knowing how you get all the prize money at the expense of everyone's lives?" You raised your voice as your fingers pointed at him, seeing him look down as if he considered your words.

Just when you think you made your point, another player at the back shouted. "Don't get fucking scared! Ddakji, Red Light, Green Light, Spinning Top - it's not like the games are that difficult," he pointed at the TV. "Look, there are still 255 players. Way more than half of us survived! We've made it this far, so let's do this one more time!"

You felt your throat dry up, realizing how morally wrong that seemed, but he still made a point. You looked at In-ho, your eyes asking for support. But he only stared at you, his gaze seemingly unreadable.

You felt your heart pounding hard in your chest as your hearing started to become distorted as you heard the other players chant one more game, much to your fear. You felt suffocated as the air felt thick with... greed. You felt your migraine coming back, your pulse following the beat of each chant.

You felt a hand grab you from behind, pulling you from the crowd. You were too fazed, questioning humanity every second as the O votes increased more. Each tick of the counter felt like a hammer to the chest, each number driving the reality of the game deeper into your bones.

Your gaze drifted towards the hand that held you, realizing it was from In-ho. His fingers were cold and firm, pressing it gently as you felt your pulse harder. You could feel the ripple of human desperation in the air, your stomach twisting as nausea built on to you, realizing how greed, survival, and human nature laid bare. You stared at his hand made you more feel suffocated, as if it reminded you that you were tethered into this place, with no chance of escape.

There was no escaping it. If you wanted to get out of this place, you had to kill your way in. You were caught in a web of human greed.

"The results are 139 for O and 116 for X. Based on the majority vote, we'll proceed to the third game tomorrow."

You removed your hand from In-ho as you walked away, heading toward your bed as you lay down, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts blank. You weren't silent - you were silenced. It was no longer about the game, survival, or the people in the room. It was about the slow unraveling of human nature.

You turned over, burying your face in your pillow. You wanted to go home. You missed when you had no knowledge of this place. Why did you have to throw your life away for this cruel mess? Were you brought in here to question humanity? To reveal the true course of human nature? In this place, there was no salvation. You were surrounded by people who decided to fight, even if it meant leaving others behind.

Your heart ached as the cruelty in this place started to crawl into you, remembering more of how In-ho dismissed your feelings yet he continued to give you mixed signals, trying to weigh in if it was In-ho or Young-il you were talking to. He transformed in front of your eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was because of the game, or if it was just his true nature finally breaking through.

----

You felt a light shine on your face. You noticed the players lining up for food, but you didn't feel like eating. You felt your stomach twist, though it wasn't from hunger - just mere emptiness. The food was there just waiting for you to be claimed, but you couldn't bring yourself to at least stand up.

"It's mealtime," you heard someone say, a voice you didn't want to hear, or at least expect.

You turned your back on him. "Not hungry." The flash of his words echoed through your mind, "If you're looking for something that's long gone, maybe you're wasting your time." The words had cut through you like a knife, a cruel reminder of how easily he had dismissed everything. And now, here he was, trying to coax you into eating.

"You need to eat," he firmly said. You turned to face him, seeing his eyes searching your face, with worry this time.

You scoffed. "You're wasting your time."

In-ho looked at you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if he couldn't understand. He let his hand fall back to his side as he quietly walked away, while you stayed still on your bed. Instead, you closed your eyes, deciding to sleep and skip mealtime instead.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt someone nudge your shoulder again. You sighed in annoyance, sitting right up as you turned to face In-ho, only to be surprised when you saw him holding two breads and two milk cartons. He placed a piece of bread and milk on top of your bed.

"I said eat," In-ho said, his voice commanding. He turned away and sat on the staircase near the others as Gi-hun, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee ate together in silence.

You can't help but feel your stomach growl, finally confirming that you are indeed hungry. You didn't want to let pride run over you just because it was In-ho who gave you your food. You reluctantly opened your bread and took a bite of it, savoring its cloudy texture to your mouth.

"Brother Jung-bae!" Dae-ho called out to Jung-bae, who was eating a bit away from your group. When he didn't budge, Dae-ho sighed and walked over to him, dragging him back to the group as Jung-bae reluctantly looked at everyone. "It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic."

You only gave a small laugh as you continued to munch on your bread. Despite the awfulness in this place, you can't help but think how this place makes the best food you've ever tasted in your life, as if it was your last meal on earth.

"I'm sorry," Jung-bae said as he looked at all of you, his hands trembling a bit. "Jun-hee, Young-il, Y/N, I'm sorry," he bowed at each of you, then turned to Gi-hun. "Gi-hun, I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," In-ho interrupted, looking at him steadily. His voice was low but you could hear the amusement in his voice. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous," he pouted, much to your surprise.

You hated how your heart skipped a beat upon seeing him pout, a rush of warm feeling spread through your chest as your cheeks flushed. You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his eye contact as you noticed him glance at you as he pouted.

In-ho sighed and continued. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

"Right? It's not entirely my fault," Jung-bae said quickly, his breath hitching as his face lit up. You could see the comfort in his eyes as if his vote was justified, adding more when Dae-ho agreed.

"To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game," Dae-ho admitted.

"You did?" Jung-bae asked, grabbing Dae-ho's shoulder.

Dae-ho grimaced and pushed Jung-bae back. "I said I get it."

Jung-bae sat beside In-ho as he bowed, sighing as he sat down. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we?" He looked at everyone, expecting an agreement. "If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine," he moved towards Jun-hee. "Jun-hee, I'll make sure we survive the next game--"

"The next game?" Gi-hun sighed, staring into space as if his life flashed before his eyes. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

Jung-bae was clearly taken aback, staring in horror as Gi-hun spoke those words.

"Gi-hun, that's a bit much," In-ho replied, his voice light trying to ease the tension. "There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive."

"That's... not impossible," you spoke, much to everyone's surprise. You opened your milk carton, ready for you to drink yet it remained in your hand. "Every life here is valued at 100 million won. There's a high chance they would let us kill each other knowing how the O team was determined to continue the games, clearly not caring if they had to kill for the prize. They even have an estimate on how much the next prize money would be."

In-ho only looked at you as he ate his bread, chewing it as he gave you a nod as if he just analyzed you. "If that's the case, then we should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again."

You took a sip of your milk, only to find it to be chocolate milk instead. You glanced at the other milk cartons that your group had, and everyone had plain milk. You checked the label on yours, confirming it to be actually chocolate milk. You stared at it confusingly, wondering how you got a different milk than the others. You checked the other players' milks, all of them with the same flavors.

"Here, Jun-hee," In-ho handed his plain milk carton to her, waiting for her to take it. "You can have mine. Hang in there until the next game."

Jun-hee reluctantly looks at it, clearly shy. "No, it's okay."

"Take it," In-ho insisted. "I don't drink plain milk."

You blinked, caught off guard as you realized they all had plain milk. You were confused as to how that happened. How was he able to retrieve chocolate milk from the guards?

For a moment, you were caught between the instinct of continuing to drink and enjoy every sip of it. You noticed In-ho looking at you and the milk you were drinking, his gaze unreadable and neutral. At the back of your head, you wanted to believe that he hadn't forgotten. The In-ho you knew always remembered how you preferred it than plain milk, as you liked your milk sweeter. The milk felt out place, yet comforting.

You stared at it, you swear you've seen it. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw you drinking your milk. It was so simple, yet the weight of it felt heavy. Did he remember?

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it. There had been no warmth in his actions before, especially when he easily dismissed your feelings. And yet, here was this. A small, seemingly insignificant gesture. But in the context of everything else, it felt like a distant echo of something real, something from the past that couldn’t exist here, not in this place.

You needed to know what In-ho was trying to do, and why he was acting this way. You needed to find the answer as to why he chose to hide behind the facade of Young-il in this place. At this point, the one who gave you the milk, was it really In-ho, or just another game that Young-il wanted to play?

----

A/N: I hope you like how I added more of the reader and in-ho's moments together. As much as possible, I try to still include the dialogues from the actual show and add some from Y/N to not disrupt the whole story. With that, feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged on the next chapter! ✨

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