One Lucky Day ( In-ho x Gi-hun )

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"You won! So go ahead and kill me!"

The words ricocheted around the cavernous, sterile dormitory, echoing off blood-smeared tiles and the cold metal bunks. Guards in pink, faceless beneath their masks, pressed Seong Gi-hun's trembling body to the floor. He sobbed, raw, animal, desperate, his voice cracking where hope had finally splintered for good.

On the other side of the facility, In-ho sat in his armchair, the black mask of the Frontman abandoned on the side table. The monitor's glow flickered over his face, catching the hard lines of his jaw, the furrow between his brows. In his gloved hand, a tumbler of whiskey trembled, one he had refilled over and over again since arriving back in his quarters.

He watched Gi-hun struggle, watched the man's face contorted in agony and confusion, eyes darting to the empty beds where his comrades had lain. Now, only Gi-hun remained, a lone, howling survivor in a slaughterhouse, with only those opposing him remaining.

In-ho tipped back the glass, draining the rest of the whiskey in a single, burning swallow. The alcohol did nothing to dull the storm in his mind.