Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Gi-hun didn't know what he was doing anymore. Although, he was pretty sure he never did. The games were over and the island was destroyed. All of the surviving players were out of harm's way, debts paid off and remaining close to one another as they processed the trauma from the horrors they witnessed. Now, sitting in the gate in LAX, prepared to board his flight back to Seoul, Gi-hun felt all purpose slipping away from him. He was returning home after a week spent with Ga-yeong, the first time he had seen her in years. He had been too focused on his goal of destroying the games and neglected his role as her father for far too long. Although, this visit proved to him that even without his vendetta, he would always let her down. He figured he could never do anything other than that.

Eun-ji was hesitant to let Gi-hun visit after so much time. He essentially disappeared for years, barely contacting them, practically only enough to confirm he was alive. Now, seemingly coming from nowhere, Gi-hun contacted Ga-yeong and her, eager to be a part of their lives and make up for lost time. He was a gambling addict, stubborn and angry, inconsistent other than in his supply of broken promises. Eun-ji knew not to trust a word out of his mouth. Gi-hun didn't deserve another chance to be Ga-yeong's father and him returning would likely only instill further disappointment and anger.

As Ga-yeong had transitioned from a child to a teenager, her and her mother had repeated conversations about Gi-hun's shortcomings. She was angry at him, grieving over the man she had loved so dearly when she was younger. She felt cheated and betrayed that she could no longer see him that way, like the love she had felt for him, that in some ways she still did, was wasted. She told herself she wouldn't make the mistake of wasting love on him again. But after hearing his voice on the phone, saying he was sorry for being such a shit father, saying he loved her and missed her and wanted to do whatever he could to make it up to her, she felt like needed to give him one more shot even if he didn't deserve it. Perhaps it was only for herself.

Eun-ji knew it was a disaster waiting to happen, but considering Ga-yeong was thirteen and beginning to make more of her own decisions, she didn't stand in the way of the visit as she might've done a few years ago. He would have to stay at a hotel though.

Gi-hun bought his plane tickets, giving himself a week in LA to properly get to know his daughter again.

The first day had been awkward, but nice. He wanted to keep the stakes low and not do anything too overwhelming for her. They would go to lunch at a restaurant she picked, close to her house so she could go home whenever she wanted.

The first thing he noticed was how much more grown up she looked. His mind still had the image of her at ten-years old. Now, she was taller, hair falling to the sides of her face in a sophisticated cut, not the pigtails held with colorful ties, or barrettes in the shape of butterflies and flowers. She wore casual, but feminine clothing, well adapted to LA weather and easily mistakable for college age. If so much of her look had changed, Gi-hun could only imagine how much the rest of her did. As low stakes as the setting had been, he felt immediately unprepared. It was like he was meeting a whole new person, except they shared years of troubled history.

He didn't know if he should hug her, electing not to once seeing her hesitant and shy body language. He knew it was only for him. He barely spoke any English, so when they arrived to the restaurant, Ga-yeong took over. She was confident speaking to the staff, friendly, charming. It was only when she looked at him, when she remembered who she was dining with, that she lost her confidence, trying not to get hopeful.

They spoke first only of the menu, Ga-yeong translating parts of it as necessary and Gi-hun repeating back words to practice before he ordered. He was determined to learn as much English as he could, knowing it's what Ga-yeong used most often now.

"Jenny."

"Jenny?" Gi-hun attempted, coming out correct but slightly stilted. "What does it mean?"

"I have no idea. It was just easier," she said.

"I like it, but it's not as pretty as Ga-yeong."

"Well, it's kinda what everyone calls me now, so…"

Silence followed.

Their food came and they ate in between several attempts at small talk later until the meal was over.

A couple days later, walking back from a movie, Ga-yeong asked the question she had been wanting to ask from the start. "What were you doing all these years? You know, when I've been here."

The story of what happened on that island, despite the multiple living witnesses and several police and hospital staff involved in responding to the victims, somehow remained hidden from the public. No journalists or publications reached out to the survivors. No exposé revealing the scandal of this decades old operation of human rights violations and mass murder. It was hauntingly silent, but accepted. Things were simple and the players were able to process their trauma in peace. They were happy it was over and that was enough to not think too hard about how this information had yet to come to light. However, it put the task of explaining what they had been through on the shoulders of the victims and Gi-hun had no intention of subjecting his daughter to that reality.

"I was in Seoul," he said.

"Doing what?" she asked.

"Nothing much."

Ga-yeong held her breath, trying to not let her face go hot and her eyes fill with tears only millimeters from the surface.

"And you couldn't call or visit?"

"Ga-yeong, it was complicated," Gi-hun said.

"I'm older now. You can tell me," Ga-yeong begged.

"No, it's not important."

"It was more important than me."

Unable to discuss the games and what he had done to end them, Gi-hun felt like he was frozen for the remainder of the visit in LA. He enjoyed seeing Ga-yeong, but when he was there the reminder of what was unspoken kept running in his head on a loop. And within that loop was more memories; the workers' strike, his divorce from Eun-ji, all the other times he had let Ga-yeong down before his first time on that island. He wasn't present in conversations. He wasn't listening to her, asking questions he had already asked, learning things over and over again and retaining none of it. He knew it was his fault and he felt horrible for it. However, all Ga-yeong could think was that her dad was pretending to get involved again, without much actual interest in her. Her fears confirmed, she knew it was only a matter of time before he disappeared again. She wanted to save herself the embarrassment.

The next time that they saw each other, the day before Gi-hun was set to leave, she would tell him off for everything that he put her through and say that she was officially done with his bullshit. That, after everything, she had decided it wasn't enough to come into her life now and try to pretend he wasn't absent for so long. But she never got the chance to, Gi-hun cancelling their last activity claiming he had fallen suddenly ill when really he was too overwhelmed containing a lie so central to his life.

That wasn't the only reason though. Gi-hun wanted to think it was the trauma of the games that caused him to be so distant, but in full honesty he was simply too scared. He had been gone for so long and Ga-yeong had no proper explanation why. She never got an explanation for his lackluster performance as a parent. She would see him with bruises on his face, would have promises broken about spending time together when Gi-hun would run out of money or things would be too tense with Eun-ji. He didn't even attempt to get custody for her and while at the time he claimed it was financial, he realized it was actually because he had no business being her father in the first place.

"Air Premia Flight 153 to Seoul now boarding," the attendant announced over the intercom.

Gi-hun rose from his seat, pulling his bag towards the jet bridge, knowing that no matter if he had gotten on that plane all those years ago rather than destroying those games, he still wouldn't have been a good father. That was something he couldn't change no matter how many times he got a chance to.

⭘△☐

Dae-ho unlocked his car parked in the SNU hospital lot, the headlights turning on automatically. "Do you need to stop anywhere before we go back to yours?" he asked Thanos who was following him out of the building.

"No, just get me out of here, man. I want to go home." The two got into the car and waited in silence for a moment.

Dae-ho got a call a few days ago, somehow listed as an emergency contact by Thanos in the weeks since they returned from the games. The two of them and Nam-gyu had both stayed in close contact, Dae-ho feeling a particular responsibility to them that he just couldn't shake. However, in the weeks following their return, he felt like he was fighting a losing battle, and simply got sucked into their toxicity in the process. Still, Thanos really needed a friend in this moment and Dae-ho didn't want him asking Nam-gyu, knowing what he would suggest to cope with everything.

Thanos had been on a psychiatric hold, found by a passing stranger standing on the edge of the bridge where he had been recruited months ago. He was wasted, high on nearly too many things for the hospital to test, and had several cuts and newly developing bruises on his face and body like he had just been in a fight. However, when the cops arrived, attempting to talk him out of jumping and go with the EMTs to the hospital, he pretty much immediately cooperated. While the idea of dying had been so alluring, he did believe in some type of divine intervention. If a passing citizen decided it wasn't his time to die, then he supposed he should accept that.

"Thanks for picking me up," Thanos said. He was tired, usual hyperactivity gone, roots growing out and hair faded. He didn't look like himself, or at least him as Dae-ho had first known. He hadn't looked like that for a while.

"Yeah, it's not a problem," Dae-ho sighed, setting the car into drive and setting on course for Thanos's apartment. He was determined to find a way to stay there and keep an eye on Thanos as long as he would let him, even if they didn't live too far apart to start with.

"What's been new?" Thanos asked. He had only been in the hospital for four days, but even before that he had been distant. Dae-ho tried calling him, tried stopping by, but the calls were brief if they were answered, and the visits became shorter as Thanos made it clear he didn't want anyone to see him in his current state.

"Nothing much. People have been wanting to know how you are."

"People?" Thanos asked.

"Yeah, Min-su, Gyeong-su, they kept texting me for updates."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them that you were getting help there and that you would be getting out today. I said that they should reach out soon, but not to bombard you with too much."

"They're fucking idiots, man."

"They care about you. They want to know you're okay."

"That's why they're idiots. After what I did to them, they should be wishing I was dead."

"Well, they don't. And as far as I know nobody else wants that either," Dae-ho said. "I'm really glad you're alive."

"Yeah, I must be fucking invincible or something," Thanos said. He took out his vape from his pocket and took a hit.

"Dude, roll the fucking window down."

Thanos hit the button, holding his exhale until it was all the way down. The cold air hit his face as he leaned his head against the edge of the window, watching as Seoul passed him by. "What about Nam-gyu?"

"What about him?"

"Has he been asking about me?" Thanos asked, unsuccessfully attempting to appear nonchalant.

"I think he's been feeling a little… overwhelmed with everything. I don't know, we haven't talked much this week."

"Pretty hard to talk when he's got your dick in his mouth."

Dae-ho rolled up Thanos's window from his side, sighing in a way he couldn't hide. "That was a mistake, a one time thing."

"I think you're forgetting a time, and that's just what I know about. I'm sure you two have had plenty of time to yourselves when I've been locked up in that place."

"We care about you too. We didn't want to hurt you. We don't want to hurt you."

"It's whatever, man. It's not like I'm fucking gay. You two homos can keep each other busy."

Dae-ho wanted to snap, but just as he was putting aside his complicated feelings to be there for Thanos in this moment, he could survive a few digs at his expense. Perhaps it was also his guilt that forced him to accept this beating. Thanos would go to Club Pentagon to visit Nam-gyu regularly. Despite the horrible withdrawal the two experienced during the games after Mi-na stole their pills, they quickly jumped back into the clubbing scene once their debts were paid off and they were on their feet. Dae-ho didn't always approve of the lifestyle, but he tried not to judge either of them too much when they talked about all the crazy stuff they got up to, wanting to stay involved in their world and keep an eye on them. He knew Thanos and Nam-gyu had been doing a dance around each other for a while, occasionally crossing a threshold of intoxication where the two would end up at some level of sexual intimacy. In the morning, hungover and a jumble of hazy memories, Thanos would pretend none of it happened. When Nam-gyu went to Dae-ho to vent about it, the two ended up in their own sexual predicament. Dae-ho knew he shouldn't have done it, suspecting Nam-gyu was only doing it to make Thanos jealous, but in all honesty, he had been lonely and perhaps a little jealous himself of what the two got up to in Club Pentagon without him.

"That's not why I was gonna do it," Thanos said smally.

"Why were you going to do it?" Dae-ho asked even though he thought he shouldn't have.

"I don't know. Just didn't want to have to fucking deal with this shit anymore. How do you deal with this shit?"

"I take meds mostly." Dae-ho had missed his shot in the stress of what this past week had been. Of course he had to reschedule it for the day after Thanos was discharged, just adding to the stress even more.

"I feel like that's what I've been doing."

"It's different."

⭘△☐

Jun-ho was desperate for answers as usual. So desperate he was trying anything at this point, including stopping by Seon-nyeo's to hopefully hear from his recently departed brother. He tentatively told Woo-seok that he was going, framing it mostly as a gag. He tried to convince himself that that was true. It was only when he told No-eul that he was going that he realized how disappointed he would be when this likely didn't work.

No-eul had been Jun-ho's only real source of answers following the destruction of the games. The island was destroyed, along with its documentation. The other guards were anonymous and dispersed across Korea and likely outside of it as well, looking for a chance to start over and hopefully not carry the violence that they had witnessed and enacted in that place. No-eul only stuck around because she had protection, at least partially. Jun-ho was able to make it look like she was one of the players. He thought it was a fair exchange considering she was part of the reason everyone else made it out in time. The other players who knew her true identity, regardless of their varying perspectives on her virtue, accepted this outcome, not wanting to stir up more drama surrounding this already traumatic experience. The games didn't exist, so No-eul wasn't going back to them. That was enough to let her live out her life in peace.

Jun-ho asked No-eul what she knew of his brother. She didn't know much, only interacting with him on a professional level, and even then most of her instructions came from the managers. She had no concept of his motivation, nor saw much of his personality beyond the cold exterior he presented. He did not get in the way of the other guards unless they compromised anonymity and fairness, sometimes leading to No-eul's suffering, but she didn't tell Jun-ho that part.

He was surprised by her offering up even the little that she could. She didn't talk much. She preferred silence and isolation. However, Jun-ho saw her slowly opening up as he continued to loop her into his life. He wasn't going to lose anymore people who have the memory of his brother, regardless of how small or negative that memory may be.

All Jun-ho wanted to know was how In-ho could continue the games, the same one that separated him from his wife even as she was dying, that killed hundreds before his very eyes, tormented him and treated him like a dog. Why, after Jun-ho and his mother did everything they could to show In-ho support after Han-byeol died, did In-ho think that was the next place he should go? How could he think it was even an option, let alone his best one? It didn't make sense to him and now his brother was gone and he would never understand why.

Seon-nyeo sat in front of him now across a table. The lighting in her office was low, smelling comforting yet overwhelming at the same time. She was dressed in several overlapping patterns, her hair let down to her shoulders. Her head was lifted up, eyes closed. She was humming and Jun-ho found himself nervously looking around the room to maintain whatever comfort he could. This was another thread in the abstract tapestry that his life had been becoming.

Jun-ho stayed on the police force long enough to make sure things were relatively squared away with the games stuff, but as soon as he felt any loose ends were in the right hands, he quit. Woo-seok also extracted himself from the world of predatory lending and the two teamed up with a few other friends to restore the motel that Gi-hun owned and put it back in business. After everything he wanted something without violence. That didn't stop him from keeping one room for himself to maintain all the files and notes he had on the games, intent on monitoring any activity that might point him in the direction of further answers. Gi-hun knew about this and would ask on occasion if anything had changed. It never did.

"There is a man," Seon-nyeo said, finally breaking her humming, "a middle aged man. I believe it is your brother."

Jun-ho sat up straighter.

"Yes, it's him," she said, not opening her eyes.

"Can you ask him… can you ask him why he did those things? Why he ran the games?"

Several moments of no response passed. Occasionally Seon-nyeo would continue to hum, but her expression shifted from one of focus and serenity into confusion. "He won't talk, but he's not refusing. He can't hear me."

"Can't hear you?"

Seon-nyeo didn't respond, but her face contorted further. "I don't know." Her eyes opened and she looked at Jun-ho. "I can't get through to him for some reason. It's different than what I'm used to. Something is wrong. He's stuck."

"Stuck where?"

"I don't know, but he can't hear me and I can't get through to him." It was rare for Seon-nyeo to experience this, but ever since coming back from the games she had found it harder and harder to connect with the spirits. "I'm sorry." She didn't know if it was something she was doing wrong, or if she had lost her abilities. Regardless, her business was struggling like it never had before and her sense of purpose was dwindling. She felt lonelier than ever, her mind so quiet.

"But you see him?" Jun-ho asked.

"I think so, but I might just be remembering him," Seon-nyeo confessed. "I can't get you an answer. I'm sorry." She rarely felt defeated, but this one was really stumping her. Usually she could get a word or two, or at least some acknowledgment of the connection, but In-ho was giving her nothing. Not even what she already knew. She had objects of his that Jun-ho brought in. Even In-ho's kidney was technically sitting in front of her, but she couldn't get through. She was losing her touch.

"It's okay," Jun-ho said, genuine disappointment spreading throughout him. He tried not to get too hung up on it. No one that he knew took Seon-nyeo seriously. He felt silly for trying.

The rest of the session continued in that same fashion, even ending with Seon-nyeo wanting to give Jun-ho his money back. He insisted she keep it, knowing where she had just been a couple months ago, but the disappointment stuck in his core was strong. He would never know why In-ho had done what he did. He would never know how someone he loved so dearly could do something so horrifying, and his brother's memory would remain a series of inconclusive mysteries and worst-case speculation; the man who raised him found to be a liar, an exploitative killer, and a torturer of the disadvantaged that he had once been.

Exiting the room, Jun-ho stopped at the sight of No-eul waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I… I have an appointment. I didn't know if I would be catching you at the same time," No-eul said, nervously fiddling with her hands.

Jun-ho didn't know much of No-eul's history beyond the basic details. He knew that she had escaped North Korea after an incident when she was a soldier. Her husband was dead and her daughter was left behind, still attempting to be located years later with whatever money No-eul could gather. Up until recently she had been living out of her car, only spared that due to Jun-ho insisting she stay in one of the motel rooms free of charge.

In some ways, Jun-ho wondered if part of his kindness and interest in No-eul wasn't only due to his desire to keep his brother's memory alive, but also to find a place for whatever grace he would've been extending to him. He knew that No-eul had done horrible things while in that place, unforgivable things, but he truly believed she had changed by the end, and her motivators had always been about the love she had for her family. If Jun-ho could find a way to ensure she lived a good life, or at least one that didn't put her in a place desperate enough to kill again, it would be like he had found a way for In-ho to change. Maybe if he had had time, time with his brother knowing what he did about the games, he could've convinced him to change his ways? No-eul was a way to convince himself that he could.

"Song-i?" Jun-ho asked, naming No-eul's daughter out loud.

"I think I've gone a little crazy, but I can't stand another day of listening to that broker not have any answers for me."

"You might be out of luck," Jun-ho sighed. "She was just as inconclusive about In-ho."

"Well, at least you know you've tried," No-eul said.

"Will I see you later?"

"I was planning on probably getting drunk tonight."

Jun-ho sighed. "Let me join you. I'll pick up soju on the way back to the motel."

No-eul nodded solemnly. "Just none of the fruit flavored shit."

Jun-ho gave her two thumbs up and exited towards the stairs, wishing No-eul better luck in her session. Although he was pretty sure they would both have good reason to be devastatingly hungover tomorrow, and it wouldn't be from celebration.

⭘△☐

This wasn't supposed to happen, not now, was all Gyeong-seok could think as he sat in that hospital room waiting to be seen by the doctor with his treatment plan. He had been feeling off for a while, but with Na-yeon's cancer, thankfully now in a tentative remission, he hadn't paid much attention to his own health. Today he wasn't able to ignore it anymore.

He had woken up feeling the same he usually did, tired after a night of insomnia, achy from the muscle cramps and swelling he had attributed to stress and lack of sleep. He had been working nearly non-stop, trying to save up as much money as he could in case Na-yeon's cancer returned once more. His co-workers and people from Na-yeon's school had all helped to cover her medical costs for the experimental treatment, Gi-hun offering to contribute whatever was leftover so that Gyeong-seok didn't have to take out any predatory loans. He was extremely grateful, but he didn't trust her being "cured" one bit, nor did he trust the people around him to keep helping should Na-yeon need even more treatments. Now he felt like a fool as he realized all of that money he had saved would likely be going towards treatment and procedures for his own health issues. He had put off going in to the hospital as long as he could, but when he started to feel this undeniable panic and inability to breathe, he called for an emergency sitter and headed straight to receive what he knew would be devastating news.

Lupus, the doctor explained to him, an autoimmune disease that attacked the body's healthy tissue. Flared up by stress, trauma, and the sun which he had worked so often underneath, leading to severely damaged kidneys and whole system inflammation that needed immediate management.

"With the proper medications, possibly dialysis, we hope it won't come to requiring transplant surgery," the doctor said.

Gyeong-seok nodded along, but was absolutely stunned. Lifelong medications, dialysis, a kidney transplant, this all seemed like a cruel joke. The moment that Na-yeon got better, the moment that their family had some peace from the hospitals and medical jargon and treatments, Gyeong-seok was once again staring down mortality like it was the middle of a war.

"You can pick up your prescription from the pharmacy and we'll want to set up an appointment with you in the office soon to see how the medications are going and make a better detailed plan. Do you have any other questions?"

"No, no, thank you," Gyeong-seok said, trying to maintain his manners and gratitude through his anger. He wanted to be appreciative of his medical team, he really did, but he was also starting to hate their faces. He needed to get out of their and home to Na-yeon as soon as possible, even if only as a reminder of whatever is left to feel grateful for.

⭘△☐

"Everything's good here. No rush. I'm happy to stay as long as you need," Mi-na texted to Gyeong-seok after calling Na-yeon for dinner. She had taken to Mi-na quite well despite not being her usual sitter, none the wiser to her father's whereabouts. Mi-na intended to keep it that way if she could, at least until there was more information.

Young-mi had been the first to know that Gyeong-seok was in the hospital, him having reached out hoping she could watch Na-yeon on such short notice. From there spreading through their contacts, Mi-na offered to step up and watch her so Young-mi didn't have to cancel her birthday plans. Mi-na was keeping her phone close as she usually did, with most of her notifications being from other friends from the games wondering if she had gotten any updates.

Na-yeon sat at the table and Mi-na set a plate in front of her, hoping it would be something enjoyable. Young-mi had given her a quick rundown of Na-yeon's routine and interests so that she didn't have to bother Gyeong-seok. The two started eating, Na-yeon not making much of a fuss over her food other than asking Mi-na to cut things up in a different way, when she saw a text from Gyeong-seok come in.

"Not sure exactly when I'm getting home. Would you be able to put Na-yeon to bed?" his text asked.

Mi-na sent him a message back saying that she would be glad to and was good to stay there. She had originally been planning to go to dinner with Jun-hee and a few others, but they obviously understood why she would be missing the evening, being part of the crew messaging Mi-na if she heard anything about how Gyeong-seok was doing.

"When is my dad coming home?" Na-yeon asked.

"I'm not sure exactly, but he'll probably be here in the morning to take you to school," Mi-na said as she texted Young-mi to ask about the bedtime routine.

"What?" Na-yeon had been easy going ever since Mi-na got there, but she had also been rather unprepared to be with a sitter that night. It felt similar in a way she couldn't quite place. "Where's my dad?"

Mi-na put her phone down and looked at Na-yeon, her expression anxious and confused in a way she had been anticipating from the start. "He's out."

"Where?"

"He's at a doctor's appointment."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"He didn't tell me he had a doctor's appointment."

"Maybe he forgot?" Mi-na figured.

Na-yeon sat for a moment in silence, not touching her food. "I don't like doctors."

"I'm not the happiest around them either," Mi-na said, thinking this conversation was going to head towards memories of Na-yeon's cancer treatment. It didn't though.

"They put a bunch of needles in my back once. They wanted to see what I was allergic too. I hated it." Na-yeon pushed her food around. "Dad made me go after mom died. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get stung and die like she did."

"Like by a bee?" Mi-na asked, getting increasingly nervous of where this conversation was going, but also not wanting to invalidate Na-yeon processing the anxiety of the day.

"We were at the park where my dad works. She got stung by a bee and died. I'm not allergic though, but dad still makes me bring medicine wherever we go just in case." Even though he technically had no reason to need it, Gyeong-seok made it a priority to save for and obtain an epinephrine autoinjector every year. Na-yeon remembered learning how to use it before she was fully potty trained.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

"Is my dad going to die?" Na-yeon asked, afraid of her own question.

"No," Mi-na said quickly even if she didn't fully know the answer. "No, you're going to see him in the morning."

Mi-na had seen the pictures of Gyeong-seok's late wife all around the house. Clearly, alongside her memory being kept alive, Gyeong-seok had an open dialogue with his daughter about her mother's death. Mi-na didn't want to spiral, nor cause Na-yeon unnecessary stress, but her heart ached for all that their family had been through, and what potentially might be on the horizon for them. At such a young age, Na-yeon already understood too much of mortality. And she understood, regardless of how much Gyeong-seok tried to convince her otherwise, that no amount of preparation could guarantee survival.

⭘△☐

Myung-gi hadn't been streaming since he got back. He deleted his crypto apps, sold his stock, and got a job in social media marketing for a health supplement brand in accordance with his probation. His own face, his name, his tags, none of them were on display. None of it was his other than the work, and he tried to let that satisfy him. He wasn't going to try to claim ownership over anything else, especially not the people he most cared about that he was gratefully given another chance to show up for.

"There's milk in the fridge and that should hopefully be enough for her, but if it's not there's more in the freezer. She hasn't been very receptive to bottles. I'll just feed her when I get home, but it's okay if you can't get her to eat much. Warm the bottles on the stove, never in the microwave." Jun-hee was giving Myung-gi all the instructions she had just recently learned herself, looking at him very carefully to know he was taking in every word. This wasn't her first time leaving Hana. Geum-ja and Mi-na had both watched her when Jun-hee needed to go out. However, Myung-gi had yet to be left alone with her. Cared for her in the presence of Jun-hee, sure, but never alone. However, considering Mi-na was emergency sitting for Gyeong-seok, and the reason she even needed a sitter was because of plans with Geum-ja, Jun-hee decided it was finally time to see if Myung-gi could properly handle an evening alone with his daughter.

Jun-hee pointed to a piece of paper on the counter. "Phone numbers for emergencies, my number, Geum-ja's number, Hana's pediatrician, and poison control, just in case. Diapers, wipes, rash cream, clothes, swaddles, all in the normal places."

Myung-gi was nodding along with each word, Hana held cautiously in his arms, dozing peacefully. He was nervous, more nervous than he expected, but trying not to let Jun-hee see. He could handle this. He had taken care of Hana before, and whether or not Jun-hee was in the next room or in Bongcheon-dong shouldn't change the parenting skills he's built thus far.

Jun-hee looked at her phone. "I've got to get going if I want to make my train. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, we're gonna be fine. You go, have an evening off," Myung-gi said, smiling awkwardly.

"Please call if there are any questions, any questions at all. I can be on the next train over or get a ride whenever and-"

"We're going to be okay," Myung-gi said again.

"Alright, but keep your phone on you too, because I'll be calling to check in."

"I wouldn't expect anything else, but please don't spend the entire dinner worrying about us. I know what I'm doing and I will reach out if for some reason I don't."

Jun-hee took a deep breath in. She pulled on her coat and put on her heavy backpack containing her pumping supplies. She had been feeding Hana on demand ever since she was born, the backup formula on the top of her fridge, untouched. Her milk took a while to come in, Geum-ja suspected due in part to the trauma she experienced during the games. She had initially been worried it would never come, or at the very least be less than what Hana needed to make it through the day. However, once Jun-hee's heart stopped vibrating in her chest, and she truly accepted that she was back home and safely united with her daughter, debts taken care of by Gi-hun and given a little extra to set up her apartment with newborn basics, her supply came in abundantly. She knew even the few hours she was supposed to be at Geum-ja's would mean at least one pumping session in order to not be aching.

"Okay," Jun-hee sighed, pausing in the doorway. She turned back to Myung-gi and Hana before approaching quickly and giving her daughter a small kiss on the head. "I'll be home soon," she whispered, stroking the small tufts of dark black hair. Looking up at Myung-gi seriously, she gave a warning with her eyes. Please have this go well and you might get a chance to do it again. He understood it loud and clear.

Jun-hee left her apartment and made it to the station just in time to make her train. The entire ride she was itching to reach out to her phone and immediately call Myung-gi, but she convinced herself not to. The truth was that for a man who had very little experience with children, Myung-gi was doing pretty good with all the baby care things. He knew how to change a diaper without much fuss. He could do a crisp swaddle after only a few practice attempts in the beginning. He even did the instinctual rocking motion whenever Hana got fussy, not realizing he was doing it until Geum-ja pointed it out one day. He couldn't read her cues as well as Jun-hee could, but the more time the two spent together, the stronger their bond became and the better Myung-gi got at being a father.

Jun-hee and him understood that there wouldn't be a world where he had custody over Hana or much of a say in the larger decisions of her life. However, they shared the intention of Myung-gi having a relationship with his daughter. He would learn how to care for her, a trusted person Jun-hee could call in instances like this. And eventually, when Hana was older, her and her father would have a chance to make good memories with one another, be in each other's lives and feel the warmth of their bond.

Myung-gi was grateful for the chance to be a part of Jun-hee's life again, and even more so as he realized how quickly he took to Hana. It was a complete surprise to him the love he felt for her that he never could've pictured when Jun-hee had initially told him she was pregnant. He wasn't going to fuck it up this time. Jun-hee was calling the shots and he was supportive of that, simply appreciative that she was willing to let him see Hana at all. He was determined to make this night go well and show Jun-hee that he had grown and could be trusted to be delicate and thoughtful, unlike before.

The train ride was short and Jun-hee arrived to Geum-ja's house in no time, quickly being let in by Yong-sik who hugged her closely.

"Ma! Jun-hee's here!" he called to his mother who was in the kitchen as the two walked inside.

Geum-ja walked over to her quickly, apron tightly tied around her hips. "Yong-sik, get the stuff on the stove." She extended her arms to wrap Jun-hee in an even deeper hug, Jun-hee taking in her reassuring scent mixed together with cooking herbs. "How was the train?"

"Easy," Jun-hee said, taking her bag off her shoulder. "Is it alright if I-"

"You can put that in my room," Geum-ja said, knowing what was inside. "Go in there anytime for some privacy if you need."

"Thank you," Jun-hee said, entering Geum-ja's room down the hall.

The house was small, but cozy, clearly lived in by people who enjoyed their family. The smells of home cooked meals had sunk into the upholstery, dust settled onto back corners but barely anywhere else. Geum-ja's room was minimalist, but comforting, furnished with mostly only essentials organized around the central bed that, while made, had memorized her small shape. Jun-hee settled her bag in the corner, out of the way but easily accessible, before walking back towards the kitchen.

Coming out of the bathroom, Hyun-ju smiled brightly at Jun-hee from the other side of the hallway. "I thought I heard you arrive!" She reached out her arms and took Jun-hee in another hug. The two walked into the kitchen where Geum-ja and Yong-sik were obviously already pestering each other.

Hyun-ju had become well acquainted with the mother and son's antics since they had returned. She got a front seat show to it now living at their home, although thankfully she was often kept out of it, merely amused on the sidelines.

Yong-sik and Hyun-ju didn't start off with the intention of living together, simply finding it easier to be with one another and sleeping in the same bed to stave off any lingering nightmares. However, those nights together kept happening and Yong-sik eventually pointed out that it was wasteful for Hyun-ju to be paying rent for a shitty apartment she barely spent any time in. She packed up her stuff and within the month was officially moved in, Geum-ja eager for her to be there as well. Yong-sik and her knew it wasn't long term, living with his mother. They planned to spend enough time there, saving up for Hyun-ju's last procedures and treatment and a move to Thailand where both could be more openly themselves. Things were moving fast with them, but it wasn't worrying. Considering everything they had been through together and the fact they were both in their forties made moving fast easier. Things were simple between them and they felt truly comfortable for what seemed to be the first time.

"Turn it on low, Yong-sik. It's going to burn," Geum-ja said.

"Ma, I've made this before." Still, he did as his mother instructed.

Hyun-ju looked to Jun-hee and smirked, happy to have another witness alongside her. "How have you been doing?" she asked.

"I've been alright. Tired," she answered, leaning against the wall to remain out of the way of the cooking.

"Of course you've been tired," Geum-ja said over her shoulder. "Please you two, take a seat at the table, the stuff will be out soon."

"Do you need help bringing things out?" Jun-hee asked.

"No, no, no, please, take a seat, catch up. We'll be there soon."

Hyun-ju and Jun-hee took a seat at the table. Jun-hee sighed in relief, not realizing beforehand how truly tired she had been. As soon as she stepped away from Hana, the adrenaline that kept her going faded and she could only feel the weariness in her bones from months worth of inconsistent sleep. Thankfully, she didn't feel much of a need to hide that from the people here, them being some of the most involved emotional support through her postpartum thus far.

"How's Hana?" Hyun-ju asked.

"From what I can tell, she seems alright," Jun-hee said, laughing. "I might be crazy, but I think she's properly smiling now, like, when I talk to her, and she's started cooing back a little too. Myung-gi's watching her right now."

"Alone?" Hyun-ju clarified.

Jun-hee nodded. "Because Mi-na's with Na-yeon, I thought it would be a good opportunity to see how he does taking care of her without me."

"How're you feeling about that?"

"I'm struggling not to call him right now and hear her gurgles over the phone," Jun-hee admitted. "I have no reason to think he won't be okay, I just, I feel like I'm waiting for something bad to happen. You know, like it's only a matter of time before he realizes he doesn't really want to do this."

Hyun-ju nodded in sympathy. "I think he'll do alright. He's kept coming back so far."

"That's true. I just… it's the history between us, but I know he's trying to make a change and I want to give him another chance. I don't have a great track record with giving people chances though." Jun-hee sighed. "But he's sweet with her and I want to try… for Hana."

"I think it's good that you're giving him another chance. I don't know, he might surprise you."

"But if he lets me down again, you'll hold me accountable to kicking him to the curb, right?"

"I wouldn't do anything less."

Geum-ja and Yong-sik entered the room with plates and bowls in hand, food steaming and smelling heavenly.

"I'm glad you got to make it," Yong-sik said, taking his seat next to Hyun-ju. "Have you heard from Mi-na about Gyeong-seok yet?"

"Not really, no. She said he didn't seem too panicked when he left, but he's still not back from the hospital, so, I don't know."

"Well, we'll be on standby if they need anything," Hyun-ju said.

"It's probably nothing, though. After everything he's been through, he deserves a break," Geum-ja said.

"We all do," Yong-sik said, pouring a drink for everyone before raising his glass. "To good food, and friends, and a future better than the worst we've gone through." The four toasted and took sips from their drinks, Jun-hee grimacing slightly.

"Is it alright?" Hyun-ju asked.

"Yes, just my first time drinking alcohol in nearly a year. I've forgotten it, I think."

"You'll want to take it slow. Your tolerance will be lower than what it was before," Geum-ja said.

Jun-hee placed her glass down and began eating the food she had served onto her plate, basking in the warmth that settled in her chest. "This tastes amazing, thank you."

"I'm sorry that it's a little burnt."

"Ma!"

⭘△☐

Snorting a line in the bathroom of Club Pentagon normally felt like a party, but for Nam-gyu in this moment, it was medicinal.

Thanos was coming home from the hospital today. In fact he was home right now, probably hanging out with Dae-ho who always provided a shoulder to cry on, the bastard. How the two could stand to be around each other, Nam-gyu didn't know. He certainly couldn't do it today, too much of a coward to reach out after everything went down.

He had seen Thanos the evening before he had been taken into the hospital. They were at the club together, getting up to their usual habits, when through inebriated lowered inhibitions, the topic of their relationship came up. Everything that Nam-gyu had been holding except in his vents to Dae-ho surfaced; his frustration with Thanos refusing to acknowledge his sexuality, the belief that Thanos was simply using Nam-gyu for access to drugs and the club, or somewhat contradictorily, that Thanos had genuine feelings for Nam-gyu but his shame and twisted ego kept getting in the way of him expressing it, leaving them both desperate for intimacy.

In the middle of their argument in the packed club, a man derogatorily remarked about the duo's gayness, which in the heat of the moment was particularly stinging to Thanos. A physical fight started as a way for Thanos to "prove" the club goer wrong about his relationship to Nam-gyu, not to defend them from his name calling. Thanos and the man got kicked out of the club and, in anger, Nam-gyu refused to follow him, staying inside and returning to the drugs he knew would dull him from the ache he felt at Thanos being more willing to take several punches before he could accept being queer.

About a half-hour later, Thanos called him several times back to back, all quickly declined. By the fourth call, Nam-gyu shut his phone off for the night. Now, waiting for the substances in him to hit in a discordant symphony, he was desperate for his phone to buzz with a message from Thanos, ideally saying he had reflected in the hospital and was finally ready to treat Nam-gyu with respect and properly screw him sober, although at this point he would accept anything at all. Just something to know that what the two had, for as much as it upset them both, wasn't over.

His phone did buzz, but not with a message from Thanos, or even Dae-ho. Rather it was from Min-su asking, "Are we still good to be let in later?"

Nam-gyu groaned and typed out a response with shaking hands, wishing this night could finally end, but figuring it was only beginning.

⭘△☐

"Okay. He says we're good, just to let him know when we're on our way," Min-su said to his three roommates.

"I'll book a ride now then," Se-mi said, opening her phone.

"Hold on, I'm still getting ready," Gyeong-su said from the bathroom.

"Hurry your ass up then! No one's going to even be looking at you anyway!"

"You don't know that!" he shouted back, spraying himself down with what Se-mi referred to as his "offensively mannish cologne".

"When we get in the car, I'm taking the front seat. I can't stand to sit next to you like that," Se-mi said, putting her phone in her pocket once the ride was secured.

"You just don't understand. This scent is chemically engineered to attract mad bitches, man."

"I told you to stop referring to them that way," Young-mi said as she entered the room with four shot glasses.

"My apologies. It's designed to illicit a hormonal response straight from the fucking mandala or whatever. With this, plus my game, I'm about to be mobbed by… beautiful ladies who I will treat with respect."

Young-mi smiled and nodded as perhaps a teacher would to a student who had correctly answered a very simple question with astoundingly low confidence.

"Yes, because your game has won so many beautiful ladies over in the past," Se-mi remarked sarcastically. She took the glasses from Young-mi and poured liquor into it, passing a shot to each of them. They downed them in unison before resuming the conversation. "Besides, tonight's not about attracting women, it's about celebrating Young-mi."

"Come on, obviously I wouldn't start putting the moves on anyone until we secured Young-mi a prime lover of her own."

"A prime lover?" Min-su laughed.

"I'm actually good, Gyeong-su," Young-mi said. "Really, I just want my birthday to be about having fun with you three and be wasted enough to not care about my dancing."

"Speaking of," Gyeong-su said, rushing out of the bathroom and grabbing something from her room. It was a pack of edibles that he had secured a few weeks ago. "Are you sure you want to do this? It might make you stressed out in the club," he asked Young-mi and Min-su together.

Both had tried weed a couple times now since coming back from the games. Gyeong-su had introduced them to it when they all moved in together. Se-mi refused to get involved, but did nothing to stop what so far for the three had been a fun time.

Young-mi had been worried initially that weed would worsen her anxiety which had been heightened following the games, but it actually seemed to have the opposite effect on her. Now, instead of panicking so much she needed to go to the hospital, when she started to feel her heart racing with flashbacks and memories, she would take a hit and let the tension melt away.

Min-su similarly found weed to help him with a lot of the insecurities he had. When he was high he talked more, without fear of his own feelings and the ways others perceived him. In an ironic way, when he was high he was less easily taken advantage of and part of him found that knowing he was doing something illegal and wasn't as scared of it as he previously had been, boosted his confidence in an unexpected way. He felt in control of himself when he normally rarely did, and it seemed to filter into his sober moments as well. He also didn't mind that it helped him sleep after so many restless nights spent trying to block out images of gore and violence.

"Yes," Young-mi and Min-su both said. They had never been high outside of their apartment, but tonight they were celebrating and thought it would be a good opportunity to be properly cross in a place where a lot of people already were.

The three took the edibles as Se-mi downed another shot.

"I'm so excited!" Young-mi enthusiastically said, the four smiling at each other.

"God, you reek," Se-mi said to Gyeong-su, pretend gagging as Min-su and Se-mi laughed.

⭘△☐

"I don't know, Sun-young, but I'm going to figure it out!" Jung-bae shouted over the phone to his ex-wife. He was sitting in his car parked in the airport lot waiting for Gi-hun's plane to land so he could take him home. He was already dreading the ride having heard a little bit of how the visit in California went and sensing Gi-hun would be somewhat of an insecure mess by the time he arrived in Seoul.

"You always say that, but how many times do you keep your word?" Sun-young asked, exasperation clear in her tone.

The two had been talking for nearly an hour about how to pay for their son's school trip. While Jung-bae's debt had been paid, the creditors no longer harassing him or his family, money remained tight. Even having sworn off gambling, Jung-bae just couldn't seem to hold on to money for long, everything he had going towards living expenses while he remained unemployed. He had been trying to find a job for months now with no luck. There had been one offer, but when he found out the job was underneath the parent company for Dragon Motors, he refused. He regretted that now as he argued with his ex-wife for what felt like the thousandth time about money.

"I know I've let you down before, but I'll find a way. Just give me a week to come up with the money."

"I can tell Seo-jun that he can't go. I don't want to make him promises that we can't keep."

"No, no, Seo-jun has to go. I don't want him missing this because I can't pull my shit together."

"Okay, then pull your shit together."

"Sun-young! I'm doing everything I can!"

"Then why is nothing changing?" Sun-young asked. Her tone suddenly shifted to something gentler, almost as though she was accepting her fate where she had previously been urging Jung-bae to change it. "It's the strike, and then the betting, and then the business failing, and everything else. Year after year things don't get better, they just get worse. I don't want Seo-jun to be scrambling to take care of us when we're old. I want something better for him." Jung-bae could hear she was crying.

This argument he knew was about more than Seo-jun's school trip. It was about his future. His college, any inheritance, the realities of his parent's retirement. He was young, but Sun-young wasn't wrong that with things the way they were, it was pointing towards a stressful life doing nothing but attempting to make ends meet.

"You know I want that too," Jung-bae said. "If I could go back and do things differently, I would. I never anticipated things being this difficult, but I'm going to do everything I can so Seo-jun lives a better life than I did."

"Just promise me you'll find a way to do that without taking more money from the loan sharks," Sun-young said.

Jung-bae went silent. He hadn't taken out any money from them since getting back, but if he didn't find a job soon, he wasn't sure what he would have to do.

"Promise me, Jung-bae."

Jung-bae took a deep breath in. "I prom-" And before he could finish the word, the world went black as a bullet flew through his side window.

⭘△☐

"Ride's waiting outside! You all ready?!" Se-mi shouted to the other three in the bathroom. Young-mi was putting finishing touches on herself and Min-su in the form of shimmering body glitter across the chest and cheeks. Gyeong-su and Se-mi had both declined, but Min-su was just tipsy enough to accept a light dusting.

"Yeah!" Gyeong-su called back, walking out towards the entryway where Se-mi was doing up her shoes. He slipped on his own and opened the door.

In an instant, a gun held by a concealed individual shot through the doorway, the silencer on its barrel muffling the sound. That didn't stop Se-mi's scream from ringing out as Gyeong-su dropped to the floor dead.

Young-mi and Min-su, tripping over themselves, ran out of the bathroom to the sight of several men clad in masks and dark clothing entering the apartment. Se-mi and Gyeong-su were both lying on the ground in two distinct pools of blood, eyes frozen in terror, lifeless.

"Fire escape! Fire escape! Go!" Min-su shouted, pushing Young-mi in front of him as the two scrambled to get away. The men turned towards them and began to run after the two who had ran into Min-su's room. Young-mi quickly pulled open the window and began climbing outside onto the fire escape below.

Min-su with one leg out was yanked back in by the men who found them, beaten on the side of the head, knocked out and shot as Se-mi and Gyeong-su had been. Young-mi wanted to scream and stare, but knew she didn't have the time to, the adrenaline coursing through her pushing her towards the steps.

One of the assailants climbed out after her, slightly slower because of his size. She ran without looking back before feeling a firm shove on her spine, sending her hurtling off the side of the rusted railing towards the ground below. In a bone chilling snap, Young-mi was dead.

⭘△☐

Nam-gyu was too involved in cutting another line on his tray set on the toilet tank to notice the sound of a person entering, locking the bathroom door behind them. He was too busy snorting that line to notice that same person entering the stall beside him and climbing onto the toilet. It wasn't until he heard the sound of two shoes firmly hitting the floor behind him that he turned around to see an intimidating figure standing high over him, his face hidden from view.

"What the fuck-" Nam-gyu began, but his voice was quickly stolen from him as the man reached his hands around Nam-gyu's neck, squeezing tightly.

Feeling the encroaching inability to breathe, Nam-gyu fought hard to escape the hold that was kept on him, scratching at the man's face and arms, trying to kick him in the legs and push him into the door, anything to force him to release his grip and give Nam-gyu a chance to run away. He didn't know why this was happening, partially didn't even know if it was real, but as darkness filled his vision and his head became consumed with dizziness, he knew he was a goner. Any fight in him left as his attacker confirmed he wouldn't be breathing again.

⭘△☐

"Job searches never seem to go well for me. Who'd have thought, right?" Hyun-ju said as she washed dishes in the sink. Jun-hee was standing off to the side in the kitchen, eager to help, but told not to. "I get through quickly with my resume, but as soon as they see me in the interview it's like I was never a proper candidate to begin with. I've been lucky to find some odd jobs here and there around the neighborhood, but the only person properly working right now is Yong-sik and even then it's a small job."

Yong-sik had taken on a position as a bookkeeper for a local photography business, his mathematical brain in combination with his general lack of complaint securing him the position. It wasn't much money, especially without an advanced degree, but it helped to pay bills and put a little extra aside each week to help him and Hyun-ju save for the move.

"What are you looking to do?" Jun-hee asked.

"At this point I would take anything, but if I could have my dream it would be something on track for a leadership position. I really miss training people and I miss thinking about the bigger picture and working with several different teams. I don't know how eager I am for active combat anymore… after everything, but I really liked my job in the army and I don't want to waste the skills I've been building for decades. And I want something with purpose, you know?"

"Yeah," Jun-hee sighed. "I've been starting to apply for some jobs. Online stuff mostly so I can work around Hana until I can afford childcare, but it's pretty bleak. It all seems so mind numbingly boring, but I don't know what other choice I would have. I'm running out of the money Gi-hun gave me and I never want to return…" She trailed off, but Hyun-ju filled in the blanks.

Her, Jun-hee, and Mi-na got together at Jun-hee's apartment soon after the games to have tea and socialize through her new mom haze. Eventually the conversation got to Jun-hee and Mi-na's work before they were put in the games and the former's motivation to leave without notice. They had been doing online sex work, phone calls, video chats, anything that would get them enough money to not be homeless and starving. Mi-na had been doing it for a while, off and on mostly, but Jun-hee only got into it after losing her money to Myung-gi's scam and being ghosted by him. She probably would've stuck with it if it wasn't for their employer harassing Jun-hee to a level even her clients didn't. She packed her stuff and slipped away from the house the girl's shared and didn't talk to any of them for fear of being tracked down and something bad happening to her, worse than what she had already been through. Upon returning home both Mi-na and Jun-hee were relieved to discover that their pimp had been apprehended by law enforcement and taken to jail, both of them being stuck at the games sparing them from any legal ramification as well at least for the time being. It was a relief, but no longer having that option to fall back on made things even more precarious.

"It'll work out soon, I know it," Hyun-ju said comfortingly even though she didn't fully believe it. At the very least she knew that this time in her period of unemployment she wasn't alone. She had Yong-sik and Geum-ja providing her a home, friends who validated her identity even when job interviewers made her feel like a freak, and a plan for the future no longer bogged down by crippling debt. Things were bleak, but they were also brighter than they had been in a long time.

"I'm caving, I'm going to call Myung-gi," Jun-hee said, laughing to herself and pulling out her phone. She pumped right after dinner and the hormones running through her system made her miss Hana more than anything. She had been trying to put off reaching out as long as possible, genuinely having a good time with her moment away, but she was getting too nervous not hearing from Myung-gi and needed a little peace of mind before continuing with the rest of her night.

She excused herself to Geum-ja's room and dialed Myung-gi's number, but rather than ringing, the call immediately failed. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen; no reception. She moved out into the hallway, wondering if maybe it was something about Geum-ja's room, but similarly got nothing when she attempted to call Myung-gi.

Passing by Yong-sik she asked, "Is there a certain part of the house where I can call from?"

He turned his head in confusion. "Is your phone not working?"

"I'm trying to call Myung-gi, but I can't seem to get a signal."

"Are you connected to the WiFi?"

"I thought I was," Jun-hee said, looking down at her phone again. She tried calling one more time and still got nothing.

"You can try in the living room. That's where the router is," Yong-sik said, directing Jun-hee behind him.

The two walked towards the living room, Yong-sik joining Hyun-ju and Geum-ja in the kitchen.

Now, right beside the router, Jun-hee attempted her call again which was immediately rejected. Maybe something was wrong with Myung-gi's phone? Jun-hee tried calling Mi-na next, but to the same result.

"Could I try using one of your phones? Mine's not working for some reason," Jun-hee said to the other three as she entered the kitchen.

Hyun-ju was standing over the sink by the window, finishing up the last dish. "Yeah," she said, taking out her phone from her pocket and handing it to Jun-hee.

She dialed Myung-gi's number, but the call failed again. "No, it's not working. Must be something with the service."

"Weird," Hyun-ju said, taking her phone back and looking at it, testing it herself.

"Would one of you be able to bring me home? I don't want to be away from Hana if Myung-gi and I can't reach each other," Jun-hee requested.

"I can," Yong-sik said, his voice stopping when he saw Hyun-ju suddenly go on high alert. "You okay?"

She looked back down to the phone and then scanned the room before glancing out the window. "I don't think we lost service."

"What do you mean?" Geum-ja asked.

"I think someone's using a signal jammer," Hyun-ju said.

Geum-ja's expression faltered. "A signal what-"

"Here's what we're going to do. We're going to go to the neighbor's house and try to call someone from there. If that works then-" But Hyun-ju wasn't able to finish her plan. If the shatter of glass didn't make it clear, the blood droplets dotting Yong-sik's face showed what he could not even begin to believe. Through the window from someone hidden in the dark of night, Hyun-ju was shot dead. Yong-sik felt his hands start to tremble, but before he could properly react, he suffered the same fate as his girlfriend, a bullet marking his temple as it had multiple times in past lives.

Jun-hee screamed as Geum-ja rushed to her son's side, desperately hoping there was a possibility he was still alive. Hands wrapped around his head, soaking in quickly flowing blood, Geum-ja was barely aware of the mysterious men entering the house with force, sending even more bullets into the two women with no ability to call for help.

⭘△☐

Nothing Myung-gi did seemed to console Hana. She would only sleep while rocking in his arms, crying every time she was put down in her crib no matter how tightly she had been swaddled. She would only take sips from the bottle before giving up and complaining no matter how hungry she seemed nor how perfect the temperature of the milk. All that Myung-gi felt he was doing right was keeping her clean. She had a fresh diaper and her warm outfit had not even a stain.

Myung-gi was determined not to reach out to Jun-hee for help. He knew the only thing she could do to save him from his misery was come home and take over. He didn't care if his arms were aching, he would find a way to handle this. She hadn't reached out yet and he hoped she was enjoying her evening. He took it as a good sign, believing that this meant she had more trust in him than he had previously thought.

It was his parents that he believed initially convinced Jun-hee to give him a chance to be in Hana's life. Soon after getting out of the hospital and getting set up at home, Jun-hee reached out to Myung-gi's parents to invite them to meet Hana. With her father dead and her mother God knows where, Jun-hee wanted Hana to have some form of grandparents even if the circumstances were atypical. He didn't know what was said exactly, or how much convincing Jun-hee needed. Regardless, about two days later her and Myung-gi had a very long phone conversation that ended in him being invited to her apartment for tea and to formally meet his daughter.

Rocking Hana in the nursery lit only by a nightlight in a faraway outlet, Myung-gi was holding the bottle with his opposite hand attempting to coax his daughter into drinking anything.

"Please," he whispered as her mouth haphazardly maneuvered around the nipple, not quite latching on, but the flow getting at least a few drops into her belly.

She was crying as she moved between tiredness and hunger rapidly, thankfully not yet at full force.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Hana latched onto the bottle and began taking regular sips, her mouth an airtight seal around the nipple. Myung-gi held his breath, not wanting to disturb whatever caused Hana to put the pieces together, but smiled nonetheless. He continued rocking gently until she was halfway done with the bottle, only stopping at the sound of the door opening.

Halting his motion seemed to burst the bubble that him and Hana were blissfully a part of if only momentarily, causing her to cry out again and lose her hold on the bottle.

"Damn," he said, putting the bottle down and moving towards the door. At least Jun-hee was home and would be able to feed her properly and get her to sleep while full.

But it was not Jun-hee who was home. Instead it was two men clad in indistinguishable garb with the majority of their faces hidden. Myung-gi instantly felt his stomach sink at the sight of them, not only for himself, but for the vulnerable newborn in his arms who was beginning to wail.

Almost like a glitch in the code, Hana between Myung-gi and the men made them pause in front of one another.

They're burglars, Myung-gi figured, and as much as Jun-hee valued her stuff, she and him valued Hana's safety far higher. "I don't want trouble," Myung-gi stated, reminding himself to not act too rashly and risk making himself more of a target than he already was. "Just don't hurt the baby and I'll cooperate."

"Put the baby down," one of the men said. His voice wasn't familiar, but commanding and calculated, able to adjust to this hiccup quickly.

Myung-gi hesitated a moment, but eyed the play mat behind him, the furthest spot from the men that he could defend if need be. He slowly moved towards the mat and placed Hana down, barely letting his eyes leave the men.

"Stand up," the same man said.

Myung-gi stood from his crouched position, glancing back occasionally to Hana on the ground crying until she was red in the face.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Myung-gi did as he was told, only realizing what a mistake it had been when the hairs on the back of his neck shot straight out at the click of a gun aimed to fire. Before crumpling to the ground dead, one thought ran through his mind. I've failed Jun-hee, and worst of all I've failed Hana.

⭘△☐

Mi-na was flipping through TV channels, casually sprawled out on Gyeong-seok's couch and trying not to fall asleep. Na-yeon had been successfully put down after a brief moment of tears where she had been wishing her father was home and tucking her in instead. Luckily she had been too tired to fight for long.

Similarly, Mi-na was struggling to keep her eyes open even as the colorful images flashed in front of her face. She was waiting for Gyeong-seok to come home, having received a text just recently that he was out of the hospital and would be on the next train over soon. She expected him back in only a matter of minutes, but was unaware that he wouldn't be coming home, pushed into the tracks in front of an oncoming subway car by an unseen force.

The minutes passed by and Mi-na gently closed her eyes, only stirring at the sound of somebody entering the house. Before she could properly sit up to greet what she suspected was Gyeong-seok, Mi-na's pulse stopped.

⭘△☐

No-eul thought she was a woman with very little faith, no faith most times in fact. It was hard to believe in anything other than harshness after everything she had witnessed.

Coming to Seon-nyeo's, No-eul expected to be disappointed. In a way what she got was worse.

"She's alive," Seon-nyeo said, guided by the spirits to Song-i, to find her where no amount of money could.

No-eul perked up, nervously clasping her hands, occasionally running her fingers over the scars on her wrist. She had been so distraught for so long, fearing that her actions against her commanding officer and fleeing from the North got her daughter killed. The guilt was cutting through her like a hot blade, knowing that even if she would be lucky enough to be put out of her misery, the universe would not reward her with reuniting with her daughter. But Seon-nyeo said she was alive and the burning cooled slightly.

"But I don't know where she is," Seon-nyeo said, opening her eyes with tears lining her lower lid. She was frustrated, once more unable to conjure much than the simple image of a person. The spirits were getting her nowhere.

"Is she safe? Is she okay?" No-eul asked, hoping that prodding her would result in an answer.

"I don't know. I don't know what's happening with her."

No-eul took a shaky breath in. As much as she was grateful for the hope that her daughter was alive, it felt almost more horrific to be given that hope with very little ability to change anything. Seon-nyeo couldn't find Song-i, the broker couldn't find her, no one could find her and there was no way to know if she was okay. There was no way to know she wasn't feeling the deep pain that No-eul felt every day that she couldn't even wish on her worst enemy.

"I'm sorry," Seon-nyeo apologized. "There's something wrong with me. I normally…" She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to fix this problem. It had all been so easy for her before. It was a natural gift that yes, had accompanied years of study, but she never felt this disconnected from everything. It was like there was a block in her system somewhere that prevented her from accessing the world she found so central to her being. She felt lost with no way of knowing how to get back home.

"It's okay," No-eul responded. "Thank you for your help."

"I didn't help you," Seon-nyeo said, reading No-eul's impossible expression. "I could do a lot more usually, but there's something off. That place did something to my soul."

No-eul didn't respond, but she was listening closely, possibly as a punishment to herself.

"For the first time in my life, I am out of touch." No-eul figured that wasn't entirely true, but held her tongue. "I think I left something behind there that is the answer to my troubles, both our troubles."

"How does that get solved then?" No-eul asked.

"It can't be. The place was blown to pieces. Whatever I left behind was buried and I can't get it back," Seon-nyeo said, her hands shaking. "Please take your money back. I can't take it from you." That's it. She would go on to be a washed-up non-special person working in some type of shitty retail job so she didn't end up homeless.

No-eul stood and grabbed her money off the counter, but stayed still for a moment. "I'm sorry that that place took something that meant so much from you. I wish I did more to prevent it. I wish that I did so many things differently knowing where I am now."

Seon-nyeo nodded and let a tear fall.

Without warning, the door to the office burst open to reveal three men holding guns. They fired rapidly at the two women who, even with No-eul's experience, stood no chance against them.

⭘△☐

"I'm taking the couch tonight," Dae-ho said, expecting some type of resistance from Thanos who just finished brushing his teeth.

However he simply responded, "Okay," halfheartedly. He realized on the drive over, only confirmed by the awkward dinner that Dae-ho had been kind enough to put together, that what Thanos wanted more than anything was to go to sleep. He needed a chance to shut off his brain and considering Dae-ho likely wouldn't approve of any illicit substances at the moment, sleep would have to do.

He shut off his phone once he realized Nam-gyu wouldn't be reaching out, foolishly holding onto hope that he would check in on him now that he was out of the hospital. In his head he was already planning the next time he'd see him. Not at Club Pentagon, even Thanos knew that was a bad idea, but somewhere where he could look at Nam-gyu's face and really try to figure out how he felt. As much as he wanted to convince himself that what Dae-ho and Nam-gyu did was none of his business and he didn't want to get involved in it, his entire time in the hospital he couldn't stop thinking about how poorly he left things with the two of them. He kept thinking about a world where his suicidal ideation didn't get interrupted and the two people who actually seemed to give a shit about him would think he hated being around them. Regardless, being alive still wasn't a pleasant experience and Thanos wanted a moment's peace in the form of sleep. His head was pounding and he felt himself growing more tired by the second.

He began to walk towards his room, stumbling suddenly from a rapid dizziness he didn't expect.

"Whoa, you okay?" Dae-ho asked. He contorted his face into a confused expression, sniffing the air around him. "Do you smell something?"

Before Thanos could answer, he dropped to the floor, his body seizing.

"Shit!" Dae-ho yelled, attempting to stand, but also met with dizziness. He too fell to the ground, just as he placed the smell; almonds.

⭘△☐

Air Premia Flight 153 never landed in Seoul. It crashed in the middle of the Pacific Ocean due to some faulty equipment that was only discovered a few thousand miles into the voyage. It was a very sudden tragedy, the plane having being routinely checked for safety several times. In another world the only way to explain this issue would be sabotage, but that story wouldn't be making it past the terminal gate.

Gi-hun didn't know what to think other than panic as the plane rapidly descended towards the water, shaking violently with turbulence he had never experienced before. But in the moment of impact, as his broken body started to drown, he thought of Ga-yeong and how desperately he wished he could've been a different man for her before he died.

Then there was silence.