In-Ho and his team were on their way back to the others. While walking those stairs, all he could think about was his wife.
It had been raining that night, a sudden downpour caught them off guard as they walked home. He hadn't expected it; the forecast had promised clear skies.
"Let's find cover!" he shouted over the sound of the rain. He could only remember the sound of her laughter and the graceful movements in her dancing.
"How can anybody hate the rain?" she tilted her head skyward and the droplets fell on her face. She extended her arms as if she were tanning in the sun. "You're going to catch a cold!"
"Who cares!" She turned toward him and watched his expression shift into a smile. "You're smiling, why?" He hadn't answered right away. He couldn't. Something about the way she looked at him, so alive and unguarded, had stolen the words from his mouth. He walks into the rain, closer to her.
     "You," he finally said, his voice quieter than he intended. "You're...beautiful." Her laughter had faltered, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. She tilted her head, studying him as though searching for something in his expression. The effect of the falling rain transformed it into a scene from a romance movie.
     "What are you thinking?" He stepped closer, looking down at her. She was a mess, rain streaking her face and plastering her hair to her skin, but she was laughing, and somehow, she'd never looked more beautiful.
"I'm thinking," he said, stepping closer. "That if I don't kiss you now, I might regret it for the rest of my life." The words surprised Hyunrin and even In-Ho, but he hadn't hesitated. He reached for her, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped her rain-slick face. For a moment, he hesitated, waiting for a sign, a flicker of permission in her eyes. The dilation of her pupils gave the final sign and he leaned in.
When their lips met, it was as if the rain disappeared. The world shrank down to just the two of them, her warmth cutting through the cold. The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but when she sighed against his mouth and gripped his jacket, he deepened it, pouring into it all the feelings he hadn't been able to say out loud.
When they finally broke apart, she laughed again, her forehead resting against his. "Took you long enough," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. In that moment, he knew he loved her, though he hadn't said it yet. He hadn't needed to.
The weight of that memory lingered like a ghost, tugging at the corners of his mind. He couldn't reconcile the woman she was now—guarded, distant, standing on the edge of a deadly game—with the one he had kissed in the rain all those years ago.
And yet, that kiss had never truly left him. It was still there, etched into his very being, a piece of her that no time or distance could erase.

In-Ho and his team return to the rest yet there is no cheering for them.
''They don't seem happy to see us," Jung-Bae mutters. In-Ho notices Junhee separating from their team and his gaze follows where she is heading, which can be only one person—his wife.
Jun-Hee almost sprints up the stairs to Minsoo, who looks at her with relief written on her face. "You're unharmed," she breathes as Jun-Hee crouches before her.
"We were the last ones to finish the games," she explains with a small smile. Her chest tightens, wanting to ask a question yet she is unsure how Minsoo will react. "The team indeed protected me."
Hyunrin looks Jun-Hee in the eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew her husband would ensure her safety.
"Unnie? You should come and sit with us." Hyunrin's focus returns to Jun-Hee and her stomach twists. Her heart starts to ache and her breathing quickens.
"What? No, we are fine over here," Hyunrin answers as steady as she could. Jun-Hee lays a hand on her knee, telling her why she wants to be there.
"It's what you told me during the second game, Player 001's team keeps us safe. It's a larger group too," Jun-Hee reasons. Hyunrin glances past Junhee, toward the group of four standing in a loose circle. She recognises his figure immediately, even with the mask obscuring his face. Her heart sank, a heaviness settling in her chest.
     "I don't think that's a good idea," she answers, her voice barely a whisper. Jun-Hee tilts her head, her brows knitting together in confusion.
"Why not? They're good people. They helped me. And if we stick together, it'll be easier to watch out for each other." Hyunrin's pulse quickens, panic clawing at the edges of her mind.
She can't do this.
Not now.
Not with him standing right there, so close she can feel the weight of his presence even across the room. But then she looks at Jun-Hee, at the earnest hope in her eyes, and guilt stabbed through her chest. Junhee doesn't understand—not the danger, not the history, not the truth that Hyunrin was desperate to hide.
"Besides, I feel safer with you by my side," she adds. "Please, Unnie." Hyunrin freezes. The weight of Jun-Hee's words presses down on her, her chest tightening until it is hard to breathe.
     Junhee needs her.
     And Hyunrin had promised to protect her. She clenches her fists, nails digging into her palms. This isn't about her. It isn't about him. It was about keeping Jun-Hee alive.
     "Okay," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But first, you should know something. My name isn't Minsoo, but Hyunrin. After the loss of my husband, I couldn't bear that name any longer. However, Minsoo was the woman who ran, who buried her pain in another name. But Hyunrin... Hyunrin is the one who loved, the one who fought. And it is time to be her again."
"Unnie," Jun-Hee smiles. I care not what name you carry; it is the way you handle the world. It's the way you care for me." Hyunrin smiles and rises to her feet. Her pulse quickens with each step toward the group, and each step is heavier than the last. The air seems to thicken as they approach, suffocating in its intensity. She keeps her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at him.
     "Do you mind if I bring Unnie to join?" Gi-Hun nods and gestures for them to sit.
     "Of course. The more, the better." Jun-Hee sits down quickly, leaving Hyunrin standing for just a moment too long. Her body feels leaden like her legs might give out at any second. Finally, she sinks onto the floor beside Jun-Hee, her back stiff, her gaze firmly fixed on what's in front of her.
     She doesn't dare look up. Not at him. Not yet.
     However, she can feel him, his eyes on her, and it is unbearable. Her hands curl into fists in her lap, her nails biting into her skin as she fights to steady her breathing.

As Hyunrin and Jun-Hee approached, In-ho's eyes flickered toward them, his gaze trained on Hyunrin the moment she crossed the threshold of his group. The air around him seemed to change, thickening, as though the very atmosphere was aware of her presence. His pulse quickened, but his face remained unreadable, his eyes obscured by the mask.
He didn't move a muscle as they neared. He didn't want to give anything away—not yet. Not when it had been so long since he had seen her, not when the raw ache in his chest was threatening to explode.
When Hyunrin sat down, his eyes lingered on her for a fraction longer than necessary. There was a shift in how the others around him behaved—subtle, but perceptible. They could all feel the tension, and it made them uneasy. In-ho was the leader, the one they followed, the one who made decisions. But for the first time in a long while, the power dynamic felt... fragile.
For a moment, he let himself look at her. Really look at her. The sight of her sitting there, so close, yet so distant, churned something deep inside him. She had changed or fallen back into the woman she was before she met him. He could see it in the way she held herself, the way she avoided looking at him. And yet, despite everything, there was an undeniable familiarity in the way she sat—so poised, even as she trembled beneath the surface.
He couldn't tell if she was doing it to protect herself or to prevent him from seeing her pain. But it didn't matter. The wall she'd built between them was as palpable as the silence stretching between them now. He needed to speak with her, exchange a word, or spend a moment alone—just him and her.
Hyunrin, his wife, his lost love—so much had changed. Yet, she is still there. Still close. And in this twisted, deadly game, that was a truth he couldn't escape. His attention is drawn away by the doors open. The guards walk in.

''Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game. Here are the results of the second game.'' The piggy bank lowers and the money drops into the glass bank. Hyunrin dares to look up, only to see In-Ho looking at the other players. Her heart skips a beat as he shifts his gaze to her. She instantly redirects her gaze, as if she is a teenager—shy of attention.
     ''In the second game, 110 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person's share is 78,823,530 won.''
     ''It's still under 100 million? It's not even 80 million.'' Several people indignantly scoff at the price.
     ''I completely understand the disappointment. However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will not take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not.''
     ''Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice. Please feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner.'' Hyunrin watches Gi-Hun turn to In-Ho, who then looks at him.
     ''Don't worry. I want to stop here too," he chuckles. "I should go and be with my wife." In-Ho casually casts a look at his wife, who has her eyes on him. Her eyes are magnetic and it is just her that pulls him toward her.
     ''A marine knows when to retreat.''
     ''Marines arent invincible.''
     Jun-Hee glances at Hyunrin, who looks at In-Ho. She smiles and snuggles closer to her. It seems to have drawn her attention and she puts her arm around her shoulder.
     "Let's get out of here."

''This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote.'' In-Ho retreats from his team and walks to the voting system. He changes his vote and presses X. Several people are called before they call Hyunrin's number. Without much thought, she presses the X button, yet her heart pounds against her ribs like a war drum. She moves carefully, each step deliberate, but she can't avoid this moment any longer.
There he is.
     In-Ho stands tall and impassive, his face a mask of indifference. From a distance, he looks so detached, so unreachable. But up close? She can feel the tension radiating from him, the weight of his presence pulling her in like a force of gravity.
     Her pulse quickens as she steps onto the square beside him. She can't explain why she is standing directly next to him. She moves too close to him, too much in his personal space. Too close for a comfortable position.
     And then, her hand brushes his.
     It is barely a touch, accidental and fleeting, but it is enough to make her breath catch. She freezes for a split second, her fingers curling instinctively.
     In-ho stiffens.
     The contact hits him harder than he lets on. His body stays rigid, every muscle locked in place, but his hand twitches, almost imperceptibly. The sensation lingers, more powerful than it has any right to be.
     He glances down. His eyes land on her hand, so close to his, and he feels the overpowering urge to close the distance. His chest tightens with the weight of everything he can't say or do.
     But he stops himself. He couldn't—this isn't the time.
     Hyunrin feels his gaze before she sees it, and the intensity of it makes her stomach twist. Against her better judgment, she glances up.
     Their eyes meet.
     For a moment, time seems to stop.
     In-ho's usual stoicism cracks, just enough for her to see what lay beneath: the storm of emotion he keeps hidden from the world. Pain. Longing. Regret.
     Her chest constricts, memories rushing back like a flood she couldn't control. She can see the man he once was, the man she had loved, even if he stands here now as a stranger.
     His hand shifts ever so slightly toward hers.
     Her breath hitches, her thoughts spiraling. Was he going to reach for her? No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. The tiniest movement of his fingers tells her he wants to, but he stops himself.
     She looks away quickly, breaking the connection before it overwhelms her. Her heart is in turmoil, a storm of emotions she isn't ready to face.
     In-ho swallows hard, his gaze lingering on her even as she turns away. His chest burns with unspoken words, his hand aching with the restraint he forces upon it.
They stand there, close enough to touch but worlds apart, the silence between them screaming louder than any words could. As the vote ended, the commotion of the vote grew louder than their moment. The O had the majority of the votes, meaning they would continue the games.
     When the vote ended, Hyunrin stepped back, her movements unsteady. She didn't look back, but she could feel his gaze following her, just as it always had. She and Jun-Hee return to the spot where they joined the team.
     In-Ho stayed rooted in place, watching her go, his heart heavier than ever—forgetting his original purpose for a moment. All because of her.

ᵀᴿᵞᴵᴺᴳ 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎