Chapter Text
The salesman’s head is leaned back against the wall, brain matter and blood splattered right against it.
That could’ve been him.
Gi-hun can only stare. He is devoid of emotion.
It could have easily been him.
It was ironic how the salesman’s last moment alive was spent proving Gi-hun right. He was just their lapdog. He would never be free from the shackles of those above him.
Yet, Gi-hun felt as though this was destined to happen. Those who’d controlled the games already had a message for him—of course in the event he didn’t win this game of Russian roulette. It’d be favorable if Gi-hun was no longer a threat to their operation. But this only proved he couldn’t give up now. It meant he had to fulfill a purpose.
When Gi-hun looks down at those familiar numbers inside the envelope, a chill runs through him. In a millisecond every game passes through his mind. He recalls, in order, the deaths of his companions. He can hear the Front Man’s metallic voice echo in his head.
He didn’t expect to receive a direct message. Gi-hun thought he’d have to fight for it really. But he shouldn’t be surprised that the Front Man wanted him to acquire even more significant psychological damage in the process. He knows it’s a way to instill fear to encourage him to stop.
But Gi-hun doesn’t want anyone to die. He just wants it all to stop.
Some days later when he’s speaking to Hwang Jun-ho as the army men wait for instruction, he thinks of you. It’s been a few days since he’s seen you and it doesn’t help that you’ll be gone forever it’s just several days.
Well, not forever. You’ll just be out of reach.
That feels like forever to him.
It’ll be Halloween, his birthday, when he meets with the pink soldiers. Gi-hun is not counting on it going well. But his commitment to the plan must remain. He’s now got Jun-ho and an entire group of men relying on him. Not to mention the other victims the salesman has already recruited.
It feels so ridiculous to be thinking of you in a time like this. But Gi-hun quite literally cannot help himself. He could die and he wants to have the thought of you on his mind in his last moments alive.
Some fucked up part of him also wishes you were with him. You could console him with your gentle hands and kind gaze. Gi-hun would feel much stronger with you here.
He has a recurring fantasy about you finding solace with him in the Pink Motel.
For some reason he always pictures you crying, scared, begging for his protection. You’re banging your fists on the glass of the motel and calling for his name like it’s the last thing you’ll do.
Of course Gi-hun will come, sweep you off your feet like the protector he is, and keep you safe from the horrors you face out there in the world.
You’re always happy to stay with him, too. You’re eager to thank him for his hard work and protection over you. In a fit of passion, you’ll even kiss him.
In your shame, Gi-hun will always tell you it’s okay. No one’s around. He’ll kiss you, too. You’ll fuck hard, and he’ll protect you forever.
It always ends with you staying. Though, it’s always bordering on being held captive.
Gi-hun will tell you when you can leave, who you can be seen with, and how much you can show your face out there in that scary world. You’d have to break up with your boyfriend. If you don’t want anyone to come after him, it was crucial you never saw him again.
Gi-hun was the only man you needed anyway.
He knew all of you—in and out. He knew what you wore the most and what music you liked and your current special interest. He even knew what your favorite fruit was. Why did you even need anyone else?
Gi-hun could provide it all.
The only thing that changes is how he’s fucking you.
Sometimes it’s on the bed, other times it’s on the floor, maybe it’s over the table in his drab room.
Other times it’s fast and hard and other times it’s slow and intimate.
Gi-hun tries to imagine what it’d sound like if he gently tugged on your hair. How would you squirm if he pressed his tongue into you?
He had been studying your movements when he’d visit you at work.
But the sexual release is only brief, adding fuel to his alresdy dull fire. It can be ignited into a blazing flame just for a moment before it dies down into shame.
Gi-hun will always toss the panties or bras to the side, tainted with his cum, as the cold of the room consumes him.
You are not there.
You were never there.
Like a drug he is addicted to your presence.
But with every addiction comes shame and embarrassment.
So here he is admiring you from afar, hoping and wishing you don’t notice him.
You’re in the library, head ducked down and hunched over as you scribble something into a notebook. Every so often you lift your head to glance at the laptop screen in front of you and every single time it causes Gi-hun’s stomach to erupt in butterflies. He likes the scrunch in your face from the concentration and he wishes there was a way to keep the image forever, safe from his own fucked up thoughts.
A message illuminates his phone screen and he only fleetingly glances at it. He doesn’t want to miss a second of you doing…well practically nothing. You’ve been at this for almost an hour but Gi-hun’s not even close to be tired of it. In fact, he’d watch you watch paint dry if it meant he got to be blessed by your presence and beauty.
But then his cheeks run hot and his heart starts to thump hard. With shaky hands, Gi-hun raises the phone. He’s reading the text message over and over, but nothing is computing. Instead, he’s trying not to press the camera application just underneath it.
Gi-hun knows the text is from Jun-ho and it seems urgent. But he can’t even think of a response to it as he presses the application open. The camera shows his legs for a brief moment, but as he lifts the phone in your direction his breath hitches.
You’ve got your head in your hand lazily, eyes hooded as you look down at the screen in front of you.
Gi-hun is surprised you didn’t even notice he was there. Sure, he was a good distance away from you behind other students, but he was the only person out of place besides the library administrators.
He places the phone onto the apex of his knee discreetly before using two fingers to zoom in on your frame and he snaps the picture. He is thankful there is no embarrassing clicking sound or the flashing of the camera. He probably should have checked for that first.
He continues to snap a few more pictures of you before setting the phone down. Gi-hun’s head is hung but his eyes are peering right up at you for any change in movement. When you stretch your arms up for a brief moment, he snaps a couple more pictures until you’re hiding behind the screen of the laptop again. This continues until he watches you pack to leave.
He’s got maybe fifty pictures of you in his phone now to admire. If he’s ever feeling lonely, he knows where to look.
Gi-hun keeps his head low the entire time, fearing you will mindlessly glance over the wave of students and spot him. When he looks back up you’re already walking toward the exit.
It doesn’t worry him that you’re distanced so far. He knows exactly where you’re headed next. But when he stands and looks back at where you were previously sat, he sees a cord from one of your devices left behind.
Gi-hun quickly rushes over to swipe it and shoves it into the pocket of his jacket. For a moment a chill runs down his spine at the feeling of one of your panties grazing his hand. He can only imagine the embarrassment of having it fall from his pocket in front of all these students.
It wouldn’t be what they thought, no. Gi-hun would be returning them.
On the subway ride to your apartment, he grazes his fingers over the panties and the cord discreetly. It’s late afternoon so there are several people standing around him. He also didn’t intend for this to happen, but you’d ran into the same car he was in.
Gi-hun hadn’t even noticed initially. He just looked up and there you were, facing the other way. Because of where you’re standing you’ll potentially see him leave, but he doesn’t really count on it. He’d rather not speak to you knowing what he’s got in his possession. It’d eat at him.
When his stop comes, he stands and purposefully slithers through the large flood of others leaving and coming into the car. It earns him a few annoyed looks. He quite literally comes centimeters from grazing you due to his own clumsiness.
Gi-hun is excited to visit your apartment again. It’s Halloween Eve which means his potential demise is just around the corner. He won’t take a second with you for granted.
Instead of jumping over the balcony, he starts off by picking the lock of your entrance. Gi-hun wants it to feel like he’s invited—like he has the key to your most prized possessions and intimate areas.
He makes his way around the apartment to look over everything as he usually does. He then sets the cord onto your coffee table where he knows you’ll see it and then walks to your bedroom.
Gi-hun helps himself to a small bit of lotion you keep on your nightstand and cups his hands around his nose where he then sniffs. He feels his body relax already.
He sits on your bed and with a small bounce falls onto his back. With a pull of your blankets over his own body, he entangles his arms into the fabric. The scent of your sleep pheromones hit him and he smiles to himself.
It’s all a ritual at this point. Gi-hun will look in areas he notices you frequent a lot to observe what you’ve been moving around or using. He’ll then look in more stagnant areas, like clothing or bathroom supplies, to see if anything has been replaced or added.
With a rise from the bed he makes his way over to your underwear drawer. He lifts the clothing up to look it over one last time. It’s the second pair he’d taken, the laced ones.
Gi-hun is only returning them because he wants you to wear them after he’s had his time with them. They’re washed and clean of course, but they’re tainted with the touch of Gi-hun’s sexual desire. They’re a sexy pair—he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d worn them for your boyfriend or during a girl’s night out. It excites him to know that anyone who ended up seeing you with the pair on doesn’t even know that Gi-hun had access to them as well.
He has still kept the other articles of clothing safe in his room. They’re hidden under his own things in a box that he opens almost daily to look over. His keepsakes are what ground him from his never ending cycle of overthinking. Though sometimes he’s unable to really keep himself away from all the panic.
Gi-hun plays with the jewelry box and purposefully picks out the pieces he’d given you. He lays them out and just stares them over, a small smile playing on his lips. You took none of his gifts for granted it seems. How gracious of you.
Before he leaves, he opens a drawer of your metal utensils and grazes them over before taking a fork, knife, and spoon. Gi-hun places them in his pocket and steals an orange from the almost empty fruit bowl on the counter.
As he closes the entrance to your apartment, he places a tiny box onto the ground onto your welcome mat.
It contains an exact replica of the ring he had stolen from you the first time he visited. The only differences between the two were the authentic silver with expensive gems ingrained into the sides.
It was nothing less than expensive for a girl as worthy as you.
He knows it’s a risky move. You’d already seen the ring on his neck. But what will it matter if he doesn’t live to see another day?
After his escapades in your apartment, Gi-hun makes his way to the corner store where he knows you’ll be.
It’s already pretty dark outside but the store doesn’t close for another couple hours. Because of the weekday, he knows there will hardly be any foot traffic. Maybe he’ll linger—like an early birthday present to himself. He’ll gift himself some time spent with you.
When he arrives he sees two suspicious looking men smoking by the entrance. They eye Gi-hun suspiciously but he isn’t afraid to stare back.
No one is inside when he steps in. In fact, he doesn’t even see you either.
The light sound of the TV behind the counter catches Gi-hun’s attention and he even goes as far as to tip-toe up to look onto the other side. It’s no surprise you aren’t just crouching there. He does make note of your bag being stuffed into the corner of the floor, though.
Gi-hun’s head snaps at the sound of you and another coming from the back where the extra storage space is. He quickly moves to grab himself his favorite snack and a drink. He walks opposite of where you’re walking and the woman from before is trailing behind you as you both make your way to the door.
You stand by the counter and watch curiously as she attempts to shoo the men away. They only yell back and Gi-hun stops his walking to observe. He watches as you step closer to the woman as the bickering continues.
From what it seems, the men don’t stray far. They remain at a table set up for the closed café right next to the store from what Gi-hun gathers with the woman’s annoyed tone.
As the woman rushes to the back you remain leaned against the front of the counter. You’re still looking outside before you push yourself off to pick up a box.
Gi-hun wonders if he should intervene, but he knows escalating it will only cause the men to fight back even worse. He wouldn’t put you in danger like that—nor does he want that woman to think he’s causing problems of his own.
With hesitant steps, he appears from the aisles to watch you attempt to cut a box open. You’re wearily glancing up at the door every so often. But when you finally notice Gi-hun, you smile in relief.
“I didn’t see you come in! Happy Halloween Eve!”
“Oh, yeah,” Gi-hun smiles gently and moves to stand where you’re crouching. “Happy Halloween Eve.”
“Are you excited?” Gi-hun shrugs.
“I don’t…do all of that,” he waves his hand dismissively. “I haven’t since I was a child. Maybe I’ll get myself a cake.” It’s a lie. He’s sure he won’t even be able to stomach any food tomorrow.
“A cake?” You stop your movements and raise your eyebrows with an amused smile. The box you’re cutting isn’t even halfway open because you’re struggling. “Okay…as long as you’re celebrating.”
“It’s—” Gi-hun feels a little pathetic for even bringing it up. “It’s my birthday. October 31st.”
Your jaw drops at that and you spring up to run behind the counter. Gi-hun laughs in amusement as you scramble to find something amidst the clutter. When you find what you’re looking for, you kick away some objects on the floor and come down from the platform. You hand him a translucent lollipop with a tiny scorpion in the middle.
“What’s this?”
“It’s you,” Gi-hun furrows his brows with a smile. You grin mischievously. “Scorpio.”
“Ohh…‘Kay…,” It’s such a girl thing to be excited over—he really doesn’t know what that means. But wait—are your signs compatible? He turns the lollipop around awkwardly with a grimace. The both of you join in a fit of soft laughter. Gi-hun observes the insect before pushing the lollipop into the same pocket your utensils resided. “Thank you,” he gives you a curt bow. “I’ll enjoy it with my cake.”
“Aren’t you gonna see your friends?”
“Maybe.” No. But Gi-hun will see people he’s planning on pulling a raid off with. You then crouch back down next to the box.
“Well why don’t you—“ you stop for a moment, the box cutter still not doing its job. “Never mind. I was going to say you could come here for a little but I wont be here.”
“Why not?” Gi-hun hopes you’re not going to be dressed in some skimpy Halloween costume with friends at a bar. It’s a thought he feels embarrassed by because he really has no control over your life in that way. But he can’t stand the thought of another man looking at you. He figures neither would your boyfriend.
“Halloween festivities,” you grunt and huff as you tear at the cardboard but to no avail. “With my boyfriend and my friends—“ Gi-hun then crouches down in front of you and tears the box open effortlessly. Your eyes are fixed in his hands as you watch and when you meet gazes, you give him a grin. “Thank you, Gi-hun,” Your eyes then trail down to where his snacks are resting carelessly on his angled lap. “Oh—I’m sorry! Let me ring these—“
“I’m in no rush,” Gi-hun then moves to sit on another firm box with his back resting on the wall. He feels like a protector of sorts—a guard dog on an invisible leash. The voices of the men can still be faintly heard outside. He is not leaving now. “I’ve got nothing to do anyway.”
For once he’s telling the truth. It’s a waiting game at this point. Nothing can happen until tomorrow.
The entire rest of the night is spent directly by your side.
You’re both talking as you stock the fridge, body trembling from the cold despite you having a sweater on. Gi-hun is holding it open for you as he attentively listens, but the sight of something moving at the corner of his eye causes him to look. You follow his gaze and pause.
The woman is staring daggers at him as she makes her way to grab something. This isn’t new to Gi-hun. He turns his head toward you and you meekly meet his gaze.
“She doesn’t like me.”
“I know,” you murmur. Gi-hun keeps quiet in hopes you’ll say more. “I don’t think that’s important, though.” You’re now avoiding his gaze as you concentrate on stocking.
“I’m curious now.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
With a heavy sigh you turn toward him but avert your gaze.
“She just doesn’t like you,” you meet his eyes with a firm glare. “She didn’t want you coming in anymore if I was here but I told her to leave it because you helped me that one time.”
Gi-hun opens his mouth to speak but then shuts it with a hard swallow. He knows he looks visibly upset, but it’s not that. It was the fact that he almost got banned from the store because he couldn’t stop being such a creep.
“See? I shouldn’t have told you—“
“No, it’s—I don’t care,” Gi-hun leans in closer to you as bottles clank against one another. “I mean I do care I just…don’t care what she thinks.” You huff in amusement but still avoid his gaze. He only cares because he got caught if he’s being honest.
“Good.”
Silence falls between the both of you and Gi-hun so desperately wants to get rid of the weird tension in the air. He tries to dig deep into himself to grasp at any conversation starter—how did he do this before? How did he ever have a social life before to begin with?
He was pretty pathetic then but he knows he’s still pretty pathetic now, just in different ways. Following a young girl around, stealing her intimate clothing, and trying to befriend her was one of those things.
The tension breaks when Gi-hun asks what you’ll be wearing for tomorrow. You both discuss it over silly laughter and smiles. When you’re finished with your task, you pull your hands back from the cold and shiver.
You lift them to show Gi-hun how pale and red they are. You open and close your hands into fists to get the blood flowing, but Gi-hun grabs for both of yours and pulls them into his jacket sleeves. He studies your face closely.
You’ve got on that same look you had when he tied your shoes—plain surprise and slight discomfort. He holds your wrists as your hands warm up with his body heat. You don’t dare look up at him. You linger just a bit before you pull your hands back and shove them into your own sleeves.
It’s the closest he’ll be to holding your hands in an affectionate sense. He’ll never forget the touch. It just disappoints him that your hands were so cold. He always likes you imagine your warm ones touching at his skin.
“Thank you.” It’s a quick mumble. You quickly reach down to grab the empty box at your feet and he follows closely behind. Gi-hun chooses to ignore how awkward that was.
The end of the night is spent with both of you sitting on an uncomfortably hard cardboard box. The woman had gone home long before so Gi-hun didn’t have to worry about being yelled at for any reason. But if he had a say in it, you’d never be alone here by yourself.
He passes you a slice of a tangerine and you take it, sleepily pressing it into your mouth. Gi-hun watches down on you, imagining what your lashes would feel like on his fingertip. He tries to ignore how your sticky lips would taste if he kissed them right now. You’re blinking slowly with every passing minute, but you’ve only got fifteen minutes to spare.
“You don’t have to pay for those, by the way,” Gi-hun looks down at the snacks where he’d placed them last. He turns to look at you again. “Happy Birthday.”
He smiles discreetly to himself and hands you another slice. Your fingers graze over his and his stomach flips excitedly. He feels so pathetic, but he couldn’t have this any other way.
Gi-hun walks you home.
He doesn’t say much and neither do you, save for you apologizing for yawning so much. The ticking of time on his old watch only worsens that anxious feeling in his gut. He can’t help but think about tomorrow’s events. He has to be doing something for the greater good, right? This isn’t all just a part of some domino effect of his embarrassing demise, right?
First, he spends months preying on you. The next he’s dead by the hands of the Front Man after trying to avenge 455 people and the thousands before.
You both walk up to the very front of your door. It’s the first time you’ve ever let him join you, but it feels so familiar. You only glance down at the small box when you see it before looking at him. This time, he’s glad you choose to ignore it. Gi-hun had almost forgotten he’d even given it to you at all.
You blink your bleary eyes up at him and raise a hand to tap it on his bicep. Gi-hun smiles sadly, doing the same with your shoulder.
“You were my work best friend.”
It’s a simple statement, but Gi-hun feels he may start crying. There’s so much he wants to say. But there’s also so much he wants to hear.
He wants to sit you down and make you explain how you felt about him in great detail. He would gladly do the same. But he just wants to know.
“You were my corner store best friend.” That earns him a sleepy smile from you.
“Thank you for protecting me.”
Gi-hun blinks rapidly, fighting the wetness in his eyes now. He almost wants to lean down and kiss you, just to see what it’d feel like just once. But not only is that extremely fucked up, but he knows he’ll just want more. A hug would do just fine, but he’s not counting on that either.
“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” He hopes you’ll come yanking on the chain of the Pink Motel again one day. At least he hopes to live to see the day.
“I’ll come looking.”
—
Gi-hun sits cross legged on the floor in front of the TV. He’s got some chicken, the ramen packet he had swiped from your apartment, and one of your favorite sweet drinks displayed in front of him on the table below him.
The TV is at a low volume, but it’s completely tuned out with the sound of his own thoughts.
Gi-hun feels like a creep. Plain and simple.
He is one.
But he can’t help himself.
Gi-hun’s stomach rumbles at the sight of the food but he can’t bring himself to pick up the utensils. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to taint them with his own touch.
He looks up at the TV briefly and then quick psychs himself up to grab at the metal. He doesn’t hesitate to swirl some of the noodles around his fork before he’s shoving mouthfuls of it past his lips.
It’d be an extremely embarrassing sight had someone been watching him. But Gi-hun feels if he doesn’t eat all the food now, he’ll never finish it.
Gi-hun tries to distract himself with the TV. It’s another shitty soap opera he’s trying to understand the plot of. He could watch something else, but the sight of anything more than romantic dramatics will usually fill him with anxiety.
It also helps that this is such an opposite to what he has to deal with tomorrow. Gi-hun is glad his mind doesn’t stick to the panicked thought. It’s only because he’s too focused on not spilling a forkful of food into his lap.
Gi-hun pretends he’s there with you. Not here in the dingy motel room, but in your apartment. It’s away from the stacks of money, the weapons, and the depressing emptiness of it all. Rooms and rooms line the halls, but there is no one to share them with.
When Gi-hun finishes his food and takes everything to the sink and dumps the scraps. He purposely leaves the dishes there without washing them. It’s almost like he’s tricking himself into thinking he’ll be back.
At the end of the night when he lies in the darkness of his room, he stares up at the ceiling as he always does.
Tomorrow is his birthday.
Will it be his last?
—
The club music is blaring so horribly loud with the upbeat vibration of the bass that Gi-hun is sure he’s about to come onto a panic attack. But he’s surprisingly focused for someone who’s sacrificing their life for some face time with the Front Man.
Gi-hun is stumbling around, voices in his ear demanding instruction but also barking them. All he’s trying to find are the soldiers. But most of the women there have pink clothing on. It also doesn’t help that the colored lights are flashing every which way and people are holding flashing sticks. He can barely focus on one thing at once.
For a moment he turns his head, eyes scanning the floor for those familiar pink jumpsuits and black, geometric masks.
As he turns his head, Gi-hun’s breath stops.
It’s cosmic almost—the way a perfect, white light illuminates your reflective costume. There’s a wide grin on your face and your hands are up in the air like you’re having the time of your life.
It must take just a second but to Gi-hun, it feels like hours. In those milliseconds he tries to remember that look on your face. If this is the last thing he sees, he’ll be perfectly okay with it.
The sudden shove of someone behind him snaps him out of his gaze and he looks back to see that familiar pink jumpsuit and black mask.
When he turns his head to try and find you again, you’re lost in the flood of people.
As Gi-hun is sat in the white limo, foggy fumes filling the air, his last thoughts are his hopes for your safety and future, followed by an elated image of you.