The rest of the week passes with minimal action and silence. Jungkook and I talk only when necessary. We eat in any dark corner that we can find. Convenience store owners don't care when we run out with sandwiches and kimbap. It's like they don't want to get involved at all. We're either invisible or cursed, or maybe both.

We sleep in niches in the alleys, taking turns to watch. When I sleep, the subject of my dreams is either the girl I shot or the boy Jungkook stabbed. Sometimes when I wake up, Jungkook is watching me carefully. He doesn't offer me comfort. Maybe I prefer it this way, pretending nothing is wrong when really I'm being haunted by the souls we sent to the afterlife.

When death is always leering over your shoulder, you forget what it felt like to be safe. When I slept at home next to Zion, I didn't fear a dagger in my gut, or a gunshot to my skull. I took that safety for granted. When you're competing for both your life and your brother's, there's no space for peace. I thought I was brave for going to the outskirts by myself. But maybe Jungkook was right—that I don't know anything about bravery.

Jin, RM, Suga, J-hope, Jimin, and V. What are the horrors that they had to face? Do they regret the lengths they went through to become stars?

When I eat, I register that I'm not hungry. I eat only because I have to. When I sleep, I wake up with the same exhaustion that never leaves me. My body is betraying me, and it's only been a week. I have seven more weeks to survive. And not only survive, I have the impossible task of stealing two guarded items. One for Jungkook, one for me.

Jungkook and I don't run into any more clues. Even though we must walk from border to border south of Seoul, there isn't another firework, no golden L waving from a flag. The silence is overpowering.

On Sunday, truce day, Jungkook and I head back in the direction of Gangnam. It isn't long before we find other competitors. While it felt like everyone was avoiding each other in the past days, now we take in each other's ragged states. I can't help myself. My hand goes to my pistol when I see someone else in uniform. It's only through her surrendered posture that I realize I'm safe.

"My family and I used to go to church in the mornings," Jungkook says. It must be the longest sentence from him since our fight. "On Sundays. It was the happiest day of the week for me."

A part of me wants to bring back our conversation, when he practically called me a coward. But if he wants to move on, I'm not against it. I'm tired of being at odds with the boy I'm trusting my life with.

"You don't go anymore?" I ask.

He sighs. "Not since I started breaking the law. Maybe I should go back, but it won't feel the same without my parents with me."

"I think you should go back," I say. "I mean, after we survive this competition."

"I like how it's not a question for you," Jungkook says. "We're going to survive, and that's that."

"Yeah," I say. "And when we win, I'll go to church with you."

"I thought you were an atheist," Jungkook says.

"There's no rule that says atheists can't go to church," I say, and I find that I'm smiling.

Jungkook is smiling too. "You're right," he says. "There's no rule. I think you'd like the songs that we sing in church."

The League of Fame building crawls into view, and the survivors are filing in one by one. We follow, and I find myself counting. Once Jungkook and I are in the lobby, I count at least fifty. If half of us survived, I don't want to imagine the other half. Their bodies on the streets. Being cleared out by Mr. Fame's employees and placed into body bags.

"Welcome back," Mr. Fame says. He's dressed in a dapper suit, and his smile contrasted with the grimness of the competitors is striking. "You've survived the first week. Feel free to rest and make use of the facilities here. Food will be served all day on the top floor. There are showers and changes of clothes. The game will start again at midnight, so you may want to take off earlier to secure a spot in the city."

By his relaxed demeanor, you'd think he has no idea of the fifty people dead by the hands of those surrounding him. I wonder if Mr. Fame ever feels guilty. Or if he regrets starting this annual games.

When you're as rich and powerful as Mr. Fame, maybe the lives of the poor seem dispensable.

The first thing I do in the company is head for the showers on the second floor. In such a pristine environment, I become acutely aware of my smell. I'm disgusting. Worse than a dog that rolled around in the mud.

The hot water is a blessing on my skin. I must stay in the shower for an hour, scrubbing away the dirt and breathing in the lavender scent of the soap. Somewhere in the men's locker room, Jungkook is also showering. I wonder if he's experiencing the same bliss as I am. I shake my head and attempt to eliminate the thought of him in the shower.

I meet him in the hallway outside. We're both dressed in new uniforms. "Let's eat?" Jungkook says, pointing to the elevator.

I reflect on the games as we head up and stand in line for the buffet. "I wonder why Mr. Fame calls a truce every Sunday," I say. "It's kind of sick, like giving us a false hope when we'll have to return to killing each other in the coming hours."

"Maybe he believes in the Sabbath," Jungkook says. "Like me."

I snort. "I doubt Mr. Fame is as righteous as you are."

Suddenly, I'm hungry for the first time this week. I shovel food into my mouth, barely tasting the mashed potatoes and roasted chicken. At some point, I visualize the girl I killed. I stop mid-bite and close my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks.

I continue to chew. "Just thinking about the past week." I know that he understands what I mean.

The room hushes when the doors to the dining hall opens. The six idols walk in dressed like the stars they are. Jimin, V, RM, Jin, J-hope, and Suga appraise us like we're the new students in school.

"We thought you'd like to get a good look at us," RM says. "Before you head off tonight to catch us."

Then they grab their own plates. They share a joke among themselves, and by their shoulders—almost touching—they seem like family. If they have ghosts of the past games, it sure doesn't show. I wonder how relieved they must feel to have survived and been made into emblems of Seoul's most glamorous.

I will be among them. Seven weeks from now, I'll join their ranks.

Jungkook studies me. Those piercing eyes of his read my thoughts. "Soon," he says. "We'll be their equals."

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please feel free to vote and leave a comment!