"I can't run any longer," I say.

"Just a bit more," Jungkook says, as we speed around the corner of a hospital. Elders on wheelchairs, parents accompanying their sick children, nurses taking patients on a walk—they all pause to stare. They take several steps back, giving us enough space to dart past.

Sometimes, when the sun is shining just right, the shield is visible—a barely-there film against the sky. Today, it's evident. The thin layer of force field material that saved us from the nuclear war so many years ago. I notice it shimmering as Jungkook and I try to find a proper place to hide.

We haven't been lucky in shaking off the contestants at J-hope's game. As soon as a minute passed, they began their chase. Jungkook and I have been running at full speed for more than an hour.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, eyes wild. "In here!" he yells, pulling me into an empty cafe.

His gun is up, and he's pointing it to the lady behind the counter. The smell of coffee mixes with my sweat, making me nauseous. I can't help but doubt Jungkook's intuition. Maybe we weren't fast enough. Maybe someone saw us duck into the cafe.

"Give us a place to hide," Jungkook says. "Quickly."

With no other choice, the lady opens the passage behind the counter. She points to the cafe's backroom. Jungkook and I dash inside, sandwiched between packages of coffee beans and paper cups. Seconds later, we hear our pursuers pass by the cafe. They are shouting, cursing at each other. Gunshots fire off, and I hear someone thud against the concrete.

"Do you still have it?" I ask, panicking.

Jungkook lifts up his wrist. The silver bracelet is like a star in a completely blank sky. I was afraid we'd lose yet another chance. We can't afford another mistake. Time is running short, and our last opportunity to save us both is coming in two day's time.

"You should wear it," Jungkook says, quietly.

I grip his other hand, which was moving to take off the bracelet. "Don't you dare. Keep it on and don't let anyone take it. It's yours. My promise to you."

I can tell Jungkook disagrees, but he doesn't argue any further. I guess my stubbornness does pay off sometimes.

*

We spend the rest of Wednesday and Thursday in hiding. Now that we know we're being hunted down, Jungkook and I are careful to stick to the shadows. Somewhere between hiding in stairwells and pressing our backs against the wall at any sudden movement, we inch our way closer to the abandoned COEX mall.

Friday night, the tiredness has made way for a throbbing headache that tells me I might never sleep peacefully again. Our motto of no sleep until after the competition has served us well for avoiding ambushes, but it makes us both on edge.

"Do you think anybody else has Suga's clue?" I ask, as we both huddle in an underpass.

"I hope not," Jungkook says. His stance is a bit wobbly, and he blinks heavily a few times. I know I'm showing the same signs of exhaustion.

"Maybe it's a good thing Mr. Fame shortened the games," I say. "We get to get things over with."

"I don't think so," Jungkook says. "We could use more time."

An unusual humor comes over me. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. "You just want to spend more time with me."

Jungkook scoffs, crossing his arms. "Um. I don't think so." The line between his brows is more endearing, than before I got to know him.

The brief lightness in my chest is gone. It's replaced with a sinking feeling, like an endless abyss beginning to open up. The lives I've taken flash before my eyes. I see them alive, then suddenly fallen against the ground—maroon pooling all around them. I waver a bit, leaning on the concrete pillar of the underpass.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, at my side in an instant.

I shake my head, leaning up as if that'll stop the dizziness. "Do you think we'll ever be the same?" I ask. "I mean, after knowing that we killed so many of our competitors."

Jungkook rests a hand on my shoulder, and I imagine that he's my anchor in stormy seas. "Cosma, I don't think we'll ever be the same."

I like how he doesn't sugarcoat things. The floor seems to waver under me, and it's a miracle that I remain standing. I imagine that the lives I've taken are lurking in the shadows behind. They grab onto me with their bloody hands. They shout at me from the afterlife. Telling me that I'll join them very soon.

Breathing seems like a strenuous act. Between breaths, I try to focus on Jungkook who's beside me and watching me carefully. "Can you say something?" I say.

"Anything?" Jungkook says.

"Anything."

Jungkook thinks for a few seconds. Or it could be a few minutes. I wouldn't know, when time is slipping through my fingers in my panic. "You know how I went to a Christian school?"

"I remember," I say.

"I believe in God," he says. "I always have."

"I know you do."

"I think God will give everyone an opportunity to accept Jesus," Jungkook says. "So the people that we killed, I think they were given the choice to accept him. So really, they could be in a better place right now. I don't know if I'm making much sense."

"That makes sense," I say, recovering a bit from my dizzy spell. "That is much more hopeful than what I was thinking."

"What were you thinking?" Jungkook says.

"That the people we killed are ghosts now," I say. "And that they're going to haunt us for the rest of our lives."

Jungkook is quiet. Then, he squeezes my shoulder—I began to forget he was touching me, with me so naturally adjusted to his weight. "Even if you're right, you don't have to worry."

"Why?" I ask.

His voice is like a potion, curing me of my dark thoughts. "Because even if they're ghosts, I'll be right here. You won't have to face them alone."

Tears fall down my face, but I turn away so Jungkook doesn't see. I wipe at my face with my dirty sleeves. "I hope you're the right one. That they really had a chance at a beautiful afterlife."

"Then let's just say I'm right," Jungkook says. "So you don't have to worry about ghosts."

I wipe away the last of my tears. Jungkook doesn't say any false comforts, and I am grateful for his presence—his recognition of my pain, his ability to hurt with me and stand beside me. He's the only one who understands me—probably the only one who will ever will, going through everything with me in this competition.

I grab his hand, turning it over so his bracelet captures the moonlight. "If you come out alive without me, take care of my family."

"Don't say that," Jungkook says, jerking his hand away. "You're making it out too."

I don't want to argue. But now that I've said it, I know Jungkook will take care of my family if I really do die in the next two days. Zion will be safe. My family won't have to worry about getting food on the table. Not when I've enlisted a star's support.

"Is it close to midnight?" I ask.

Jungkook checks his watch. "Twenty more minutes."

I squint into the dark, toward the abandoned mall. "Let's go soon."

Neither Jungkook nor I move. I guess we don't really want to face the music. Our last real chance at saving us both.

I take the first step. Jungkook follows me without saying a word.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you all enjoyed the Permission to Dance concerts in Seoul! I was so happy to see it in the cinema.