Chapter Text
2020
"I think you'd like him."
Inho seemed not to hear anything the old man said. But Ilnam, even on his deathbed, knew well enough how Inho pretended to be deaf. He chuckled, then coughed as he was chuckling. Inho came next to him instantly, poured him a glass of water, repositioned his pillow, and helped him drink. Since Ilnam was able to see his face, he smiled wider.
It was insane, if you asked Inho. How could a man smile so wide while literally lying on a bed, waiting for death? And yet, according to everything Ilnam had done since Inho knew him, Inho was well aware this wasn’t insanity at all. It was normal, in Ilnam’s conditions. And Inho also knew that he was Ilnam’s last possible game to play.
"While calling him here, send him flowers. Put an invitation card in the bouquet," Ilnam said.
Inho was no longer playing deaf, but he still refused to answer his captain.
"It’s up to you to choose which flowers to send." Ilnam smiled. "Bet he’s never received red roses."
Inho was sweating in his expensive turtleneck sweater, blushing uncontrollably. The room was already uncomfortable, and it was getting harder to stand there. Yet he was respectful enough not to leave the side of his captain until dismissed. No matter how sick and weak the captain was. No matter how easy it would be to kill him by simply unplugging a cable.
It was strange. A naive kind of relationship. Ilnam was fond of Inho, of his unique personality, his loyalty, his reliability, his respect. He was like a son to him. A better son than his own sons. And the thing was, Inho had no need to stay next to him and act like his son.
He had once been the owner of 45.6 billion won, in 2015. He didn’t need to work anywhere. With that money, he didn’t even need to lift a finger. Yet he hadn’t touched it, because that money had been for his wife, and by the time he received it, she was no longer alive.
Normally, he should have been rageful when Ilnam reached him after the games. He wasn’t in good condition, the money was untouched, and he was rotting in his little apartment, neglected by himself, isolated from everyone he knew, wilting like a dehydrated houseplant in the dark. Normally, he should have attacked Oh Ilnam. But he did nothing.
He didn’t blame him for the games, or for missing his wife’s last days on earth. In other words, he had played the games knowing his fate, not blaming anyone. Because no one had ever given him a chance to be that rich before, and like everything of worth, that money had to cost something. The rules were known and accepted, maybe not from the very beginning, but certainly after Red Light, Green Light, when the majority was still alive and they had the chance to leave. Yet money was sweeter. And after that, every player, including himself, was half-dead for the last six days.
Knowing and accepting.
As a police officer, Inho was already used to killing when necessary. So he did nothing but treat it like a massive police operation: people killing each other, ready to be killed. Inho didn’t find himself a group of friends, because for a game with one winner, he knew he couldn’t trust anyone.
And eventually, he won.
He won.
He won, and it meant nothing.
He won, and he was welcomed by a world where money was no longer of use. And the most precious part of the world was gone forever.
Ilnam sat in that dark room with the houseplant, Hwang Inho, and told him he felt no different than him. Told him that now both of them were rich, and the most important thing in life was not money but having a goal to accomplish. It wasn’t a pep talk. Ilnam was more sincere than that. He simply made Inho believe he was the only person on earth who could truly understand him. And all Inho needed was to be understood.
He offered him a job that came with a goal, a status, and a place where he wouldn’t need to hide his past, instead, he could live with it proudly. And better, he could leave his miseries behind. Take a new step. Turn the page.
Inho accepted Ilnam’s offer on one condition.
“The games will be fairer. No player will be given a knife privately.”
Ilnam smiled that day, seeing his brighter potential. It even excited him.
Almost as much as meeting Gihun excited him this year. Since the end of the games, he had been telling Inho that he would love Gihun if he ever met him. But Gihun was a softer one, not a tough brat like Inho—whom Ilnam was very much fond of, almost as a father.
“You will be so alone on the island, when I die.”
“You’ll be living, sir.”
Ilnam smiled. He was breathing through machines and hadn’t left the bed for weeks because his legs were useless, so was the rest of his body.
“I will not live forever,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to, either. One should go when it is time.”
Inho was silent.
“I want you to meet Gihun.”
“He is not capable of work like ours, sir,” said Inho.
“You don’t have to offer him a job,” Ilnam said, as if teaching two plus two equals four. And he looked at Inho like he knew his boy was clever enough to understand. “I don’t believe in anything. I don’t believe in genders either. You two still have holes to do it, don’t bother me with details. I won’t buy it. Go. Meet him. Try to get him. Anybody loves a handsome guy like you.”
Inho was patient. He didn’t try to explain that he wasn’t into men, let alone Seong Gihun. He simply said, “I never dated anyone since my wife died.”
And Ilnam looked at him.
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
A day later, Inho arranged a bouquet of red roses as Ilnam dictated and sent them to Seong Gihun, who looked no better than a caveman.
Chapter 2
Notes:
Fun fact: I planned this fic 3 months ago, but I never wrote it because I thought it wouldn't be liked. But it is so much better to write it now because I was fed with Season 3 knowledge too now.
Chapter Text
"Did you give him the bouquet by yourself?" Ilnam was speaking; it was right after Inho informed him that he had actually forwarded an invitation card to Seong Gihun in a bouquet of red roses as he wished. Like a kid, Ilnam was joyful, almost too joyful. It was making Inho melancholic, and he wanted to stop it. Inho wasn’t the kind of guy who got sad too often. He had trained so well to control his emotions, especially for the last five years, but lately he was feeling things more than he had trained himself to get used to.
It started with Junho, of course. When he first noticed him on the island it shook Inho completely. To be honest, he had always been proud of his brother for being a police officer like him, and he always knew that meant Junho would be in danger more often than regular people. Hence, the first feeling Inho got wasn’t hesitation for Junho’s well-being, it was fear for his own reputation in his brother’s eyes. Which was also a keyhole showing through his true identity. He must have known it and hated it especially for this reason. Because knowing what he actually was wouldn’t help how he acted like he was.
Inho. The just. The “Everything is up to players, they know and keep on playing, we are not killing them, they are killing themselves” front man. Yet he was not okay with saying the exact words to his own brother. He had been hiding for years. As if he didn’t believe in what he was saying.
Inho. His little brother’s idol. He could never reveal his real identity to him for five years. No. He made himself believe so well that he actually believed in what he was saying, but he just knew there was no way to make his brother believe the same thing. And the fear came with it. In the end, when he showed him his face and reached out, he was so brave, yet he knew there was no place for a talk and he had to shoot his own brother. And he hadn’t felt okay since then.
It was against his training. He would rather be a robot sometimes, but every now and then the world kept reminding him that he was nothing more than a human. And it was disgusting. Feeling sad for not being able to talk with his brother again, feeling sad for living in the last days of his captain, etc. Inho was trying hard to ignore this sadness, absorbing it with nothingness, yet applying everything Ilnam said just for the sake of keeping him alive for one last time.
"No, sir." Inho replied to the smiling old man with a unconcerned face.
Ilnam didn’t change his expression, he kept on smiling. "It’s better not to show your face right away anyway," he said. "He must be hating us right now." He still kept his smile.
"May I ask you why you invited him here then, sir?" Inho asked respectfully.
"I am already going away," Ilnam said, before coughing a little. "I just want to talk with him once again. He deserves to see his gganbu."
Inho knew more or less how Ilnam’s mind worked, thus he didn’t need to poke deeper and cut the conversation right there. He left the room too. The room was located on some high floors of a skyscraper and Inho was living in another room on the same floor for now. There were also some higher-ranked, most reliable soldiers with them, without pink uniforms, without masks. Inho had already planned to promote one of them to be his right hand, since Ilnam was going to inherit his position. His duties would increase too, and he would need a right hand as Ilnam needed a front man.
They had talked about how the system would change, etc. for a very good amount of time. Inho had assured him that everything would go on as it was, and Ilnam was already aware of it because this year Inho had done an amazing job working almost all alone. And also, since there were still lots of top parts of the chart, a change of an "Ilnam" would not cause much complication.
Ilnam was even making jokes. Once he said, "You should at least put a wax statue of me somewhere in the island. You should better put it in your room." He was giggling and everything, yet Inho didn’t flinch a muscle, because it wasn’t funny or logical at all. His unamused face was also amusing to Ilnam anyway.
A soldier informed Inho that Seong Gihun had entered the building. And then Inho remembered Ilnam’s request to meet alone with Gihun, so he didn’t send the soldier into Ilnam’s room. He told them to keep watching the camera recordings, and not to enter the room without a real alarm.
The soldier saluted and turned back to work.
And Inho refused to go with him and look at the camera recordings. He was not ready to see Seong Gihun right now. It was most likely because of Ilnam’s matchmaking. Crazy that he was feeling shy and nervous, like there was actually something real and important.
He didn’t leave his room.
But his ears were waiting for Seong Gihun’s footsteps in the corridor to Ilnam’s room.
One.
Two.
Three.
He heard nothing.
He was ashamed that he actually counted for it. What was he doing?
He thought about the last time he saw him. There was always an unpleasant feeling whenever he was alone with him. He remembered he drank more than he normally did in that limo ride back to Seoul. Normally it was easy to belittle players, even when they won billions of won, because they won that by losing themselves, losing their humanity. So they didn’t deserve to be treated like humans.
Inho remembered it so well. He told him, "Because you are horses." And he remembered it so well: he drank his whiskey in one go. Because he knew he was gaslighting a winner who killed nobody individually. A winner who wasn’t an ordinary winner at all. He had tried to give up on billions of won just to save one person in the end. Inho could never be as good as him, and it was hard to swallow. Inho was a horse, less than a human, and Inho was ready to see the rest of the world like him just to prove that he was no worse than anybody. That everybody was trash already. So Inho attempted to gaslight Gihun. It was nothing but a game of ego.
And worse? He knew this clearly.
And later? While he could have put the credit card in Gihun’s pocket, he shoved it deep in his throat. Remembering this, he couldn’t believe how he did it. But jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when it is mixed with self-rage.
Good thing Ilnam never learned about this, otherwise he would keep reminding him in a funny way. Saying something like, "You already like shoving your fingers in his mouth." Uh.
Finally the noises were heard. And Inho immediately stood up and silently but quickly found the little peephole. His eye met homeless-looking Gihun in the corridor. He was looking at him very curiously, and it was not because he hadn’t seen him recently. They were following Gihun everywhere, like many of the other winners, because Gihun rejected spending his award money, he was the special interest for so long.
Inho noticed his beard and hair were even longer than the last time he saw him.
And he blamed Ilnam when he thought, "His face looks thinner. His clothes are too baggy to notice his body, though, but I bet he looked like a model if he wore something for his size. His waist was already thin, I can't imagine how it is now."
He went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. "He should have just killed himself already," he said out loud. He hated that he was important. For Ilnam. Also for... himself.
hertzq on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Sep 2025 07:40AM UTC
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kuprdoerezo on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Sep 2025 08:38PM UTC
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