"We sincerely congratulate and comment you for successfully making it through five games," The square guard had said, when the two of them came into the almost completely empty room. All that was left was two beds, one of the left side of the room, and one on the right. Two when there used to be over five hundred.

Jimin and Jungkook were the finalists, the last, the best. That seemed to mean something here, because only a minute or two after they walked in, still silent, the pink soldier asked them to change for their special gift.

So they went to the bathroom, changed in individual stalls. Jimin is done first, and he approaches the mirror, staring at himself. They put him in a tuxedo, a three-piece suit complete with a bowtie. The number 136 was on his chest, just like it was on the bloody jacket he left on the floor behind him. He wears dress shoes with no socks, that dig into the back of his ankles.

He doesn't even recognize himself.

His eyes have sunken in, and there's red spots dancing around his face from stress. The glass cut a clean line across the bridge of his nose, and another cut slanted over his left eyebrow that would probably leave a scar if he survived long enough for it to heal. His hair was greasy, when he brushed his hair back he didn't like how it felt.

He didn't notice the younger approach behind him until his hand was on his shoulder. "You're pretty," Jungkook murmurs, the first thing either of them have said since pressed together on the bridge.

"Really?" He turns around, staring up at him. His hair was a bit greasy too, he had acne as well, but he was beautiful. Honestly the most beautiful person he's ever seen, despite the little flaws. "I was just thinking about how much of a mess I looked."

"I won't deny it, but it doesn't change things," Jungkook brushes Jimin's dark hair out of his eyes. "You're pretty."

"Why so soft all of a sudden?" Jimin jokes half-heartedly. "You're being grosser than usual."

"I...I'm just so happy you're alive," He whispers. "And...not even after all these games. Simply just in general. I'm happy you exist."

Jimin's face flushed pink, something he was not used to. Never once in his life, except maybe as a naïve little kid, did he dare to dream someone would say something like that to him. Jungkook just...made his dark, scary world brighter.

He really loves him.

"Today was really hard Jimin," He continued when Jimin didn't respond verbally. "Harder than any other day. Watching people fall, watching you almost fall." He started tearing up. "I just...I can't..."

"Shh," Jimin grabs both his hands, pulling him to sit on the floor. "Let's...let's talk. I'll try. I just don't really know how to process things today. You obviously don't either. I think you would feel better if you talked. We're lost, maybe we'll be less lost together."

"You really know what helps," Jungkook kisses the corner of his lips. "We click."

"We do," Jimin nods. "Um, tell me what you're feeling. I don't know how to help, but I'll try."

"Thank you," He sighs. "I...I don't wanna talk about this much, because it hurts. And I want the last night we're 100% sure of surviving to be full of good things. So...well, if one of us wins and the other doesn't, the winner will leave with happy memories."

"Shut the fuck up," Jimin's body tenses. "We'll both win. Don't spew shit."

"Still," The taller looks down. "You'd still rather have good memories than bad, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Then let's get this over with so we can talk about good things."

"Okay."

"I didn't like their screams," Jungkook starts. "I didn't like how wet with sweat they were."

"Me neither," He shakes his head.

"I was terrified the whole time up there," He stares at nothing. "I'm scared of heights. At least with tug-of-war I was in the back. Because of being connected to everyone else, because of the pull, I couldn't fall off the sides. Even though I was never in the front, I couldn't stop thinking about how I could just lose my balance, and fall off."

"I felt you tremble against me during the explosion," Jimin tells him, rubbing his thumbs over Jungkook's hands. "I'm betting that was a big reason why."

"Yeah," Jungkook tears up. He was definitely a crier. Even days ago, Jimin thought those who cried often were weak, pathetic. Jungkook was strong, despite his tears. In fact, his tears even seemed to show strength from him. Maybe...crying was just a healthy way to cope.

Jimin wiped his tears. He...he realized in this moment he really liked giving comfort. He felt more connected to Jungkook by making him feel better. He didn't think he was this type of person. These games were really teaching him a lot. "My Jungkook," Is all he says.

"And seeing all the bodies on the ground?" Jungkook's exhales a shuddery breath. "Did you see the organs?"

"Yeah," He nodded solemnly. "It's...psychological torture, isn't it? All the games were, but...this was so different. This was the worst one by far. Those who die are free. They're focused on sucking the souls out of the living. And fuck them for it."

"Yeah...exactly," Jungkook bows his head down, and Jimin scratches his frizzy hair gently, like you would a loved animal.

"You know...I saw something," Jimin makes eye-contact with him.

"What?" He looks at him intently.

"I...I saw a window of some sorts," Jimin squeezes the younger's hands slightly. "It was tinted, I couldn't see inside, but it was there. That's what distracted me, before Ten dropped. Someone was watching us live."

"My God..." Jungkook visibly shivers. "That's sick."

"I know," He glares. "If only I could find them and do to them what they did to us. That would be ideal."

"Anyways, today was just hard, the hardest thing I've ever done save for watching my family die," Jungkook sniffs. "That's the extent I want to talk about it. Is there anything you have?"

"Um, it was really hard today, helping out that woman," He admits, embarrassed. "It was selfish what I did, I didn't like doing it, pretending to be nice. I talked to her to get her moving, for us. I had no intention of helping her."

"That's okay," The taller assures. "Even if it wasn't your intention, you did help her. And you really helped us. We probably wouldn't have made it if not for you."

"I also hated watching you fight with that guy," Jimin inhales a shaky breath. "I was so convinced you would both lose your balance and fall to your death."

"Me too," He sighs. "That was terrible."

"The explosion was bad," Jimin continued. "You didn't see it, but I did. I'll always be able to see it...so gruesome."

"Speaking of, how are your hands?" Jungkook grabs them again, staring. "There's so many cuts."

"They sting when I wash my hands, but that's it," Jimin too looks down. His hands are streaked red at all angles, but they were shallow, Jimin got lucky. "What about your back? Your neck?"

"The cuts hurt, but they're not bleeding, none of them are deep," He smiles softly. "I'm okay...all things considered."

"We'll never be okay," Jimin huffs out a laugh.

Jungkook shrugs. "Maybe when we're dead."

Jimin nods with a smile. "Maybe when we're dead. But we won't die for a long time. We'll win this tomorrow."

"I'm counting on it," Jungkook stands up. "Alright, I'm feeling better. You ready for the surprise?"

"Fuck no," Jimin lets his partner pull him up, flying to his feet once again. "But let's go."

When they walk in everything had changed.

There was a square table in the middle of a circular checkered pattern on the floor. Everything was lit by candlelight or dim lighting, otherwise it was dark. It looked so fancy...like a meal for a king. What was this?

Two pink soldiers stood by chairs on either side. They motioned for the two of them to sit. Jimin glanced at Jungkook, who only shrugged. At that, Jimin walked to the right, Jungkook the left. They sat down at the same time.

In front of Jimin was about a billion utensils, all probably for different things. There were vegetables, and shellfish, and bread. And a covered platter that seemed too big for one person.

A pink soldier poured him wine. He didn't want it. Ever since that first night, when alcohol was used as a weapon against him, he's detested it.

The guard takes the cover off the dish, revealing a massive tomahawk steak, with more vegetables as garnish. Never in his life has he seen something like this in the flesh. He never thought he would.

Square mask walks up, seemingly out of nowhere. "We have prepared this feast as a token of gratitude for the sacrifice and effort you finalists have made." What the fuck did that mean? "We're certain you'll give us a splendid performance in the final game."

"...Performance?" He breathes aloud. This wasn't a movie, or play, this was real. Fucking bastards.

"Please enjoy the feast without any concerns," Is the final thing he says.

That...was it? No catch? Jimin stared at Jungkook from across the room, who was looking right back. They obviously both needed assurance, but had none to give.

Looking back down at his steak, he concludes it must be fine. There's only two of them, killing one now would be...well, from their sick standards, boring. He picks up his fork, and his knife, and starts cutting. He hears the scraping of utensils against plate across from him. Jungkook has done the same.

They eat in silence, soft music in the background. Jimin hates to admit it, but holy shit the steak was so good. He's never gotten to eat food this delicious in his entire life. The steak was rare and juicy, it fell apart in his mouth.

He was finished much faster than he would've liked, but as quick as he went, Jungkook was faster. Both of them had finished to the bone, all the side dishes gone. It probably took about half an hour. But it felt like three seconds.

Once the both of them were done, the pink soldiers came and cleaned up. They brought up a serving car, taking everything away one by one. They grabbed the plates, almost all the utensils, and finally slid the placemat away.

Until only the knife remained.

They placed the knife in front of the two neatly, and left. Jimin stared down at it, before up at Jungkook. He was just as confused. Jimin didn't want to make the conclusions he was making in his head.

He didn't touch it, he didn't want to. Soon everything around them was cleared off the table. Circle mask puts his hand on the back of Jimin's chair, gesturing with his whole hand on the knife. Reluctantly, he took it. He felt he had no choice.

There was a bed on either side of the room, as Jimin had noticed before, so the guards had them take the bed on the side they were on. They watched the table get taken away, then all that was left was an intricate center light fixture, that remained there.

Finally, after seemingly much too long, they were alone. This was the first day they had truly been alone together. First in the bathroom, now through the night, all they had was each other.

Jimin watches Jungkook climb out of bed, walking over to him. The knife is in his hand.

He trusts Jungkook...he does, but what is he planning to do with that? He could've just left it at the bed on his side, that would've been the best decision! They maintain eye-contact the entire time, until he's at the foot of the shorter's bed. Jimin tenses up.

"You know, if I were to kill you, I hope you know I wouldn't be this stupid," Jungkook chuckles. "I just want to show you the knife, so you can see it clearly before I throw it."

And with that, he throws it across the room. His aim is off and he hits the light. It ricochets and skids to the back wall.

"I want that thing as far away from me as possible."

"Me too," Jimin grabs his own knife, chucking it into the far back corner. "It's done what it needed to. Now come here."

"Are you gonna be this demanding when we're out of here?" The tattooed boy jokes. "'Shut up,' 'Don't flatter yourself,' 'Come here.'"

"Hey, come on," Jimin drags him down, and Jungkook goes willingly. "It's not like you listen to me anyways."

"I don't always," He stares warmly. "But that's why we're here."

"Yeah," Jimin looks down bashfully. "But my orders did help. We're a good team."

"We are," Jungkook nods, holding his hand. "What do you want to do with the money? Think extravagance."

"I don't have too many big dreams," Jimin shrugs. "If anything...buy a nice house in a beautiful, quiet country. Get a dog or two. Find a job I love doing, even if it doesn't pay well. Just...simple. I want to be at peace. At least externally. How about you?"

"Pay off my brother's debts, donate a bit to a charity helping those with addictions. Then, live simply, like you."

"I think we've seen more in twenty years than most people see in a lifetime," He whispered. "To want anything except simplicity is fucking insane."

"What will we name the dog?" Jungkook wonders.

"I've always wanted a pair," Jimin smiled as he thought. "A light-furred one named Sun, and a dark-furred one named Moon."

"Sounds wonderful," Jungkook kisses his cheek. "Let's do it."

"Together?" Jimin looks at him. Stars are in the younger's eyes.

"Absolutely," He beams. "I want to do everything together with you Jimin."

"Really? You promise?"

Jungkook chuckled at him warmly. "I promise."

Jimin's heart sped up, for a really good reason this time. "Let's do everything together then."

Jungkook intertwined their fingers. "Sounds like a plan."