Chapter Text
Classical music flooded the small room, causing Junho to almost fall out of bed.
"The next game will begin momentarily. " A feminine voice came out of the speakers "Managers, soldiers and workers, please move to your designated locations."
He quickly put on his suit (which technically wasn't his, you stole it, remember? You t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶ ̶m̶a̶n̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶e̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶m̶e̶r̶c̶y̶,̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶e̶m̶b̶e̶r̶?̶ ̶Y̶o̶u̶'̶r̶e̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶s̶u̶i̶t̶-) while looking at the camera on the celling. Were they watching ALL the time? How could anyone ever live like this??
The corridors smelled metallic from blood, mixed with stench of sweat and smoke. (I guess the murderers just don't care about basic hygiene anymore, but then w̶h̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶G̶o̶n̶g̶ ̶Y̶o̶o̶ ̶s̶m̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶-)
The pistol felt heavy like a boulder, and as he walked through the endless stairs, his migraine became stronger and stronger. God, why did it hurt so bad? He didn't remember hitting himself in the head.
Then, the guard before him stopped all of the sudden, turning around to face him.
"Hello, officer." The modified voice rang in Junho's ears, causing his heart to almost jump out of ribcage. Was his cover blown already?! The voice, cold and mechanical, sent a cold shiver down his spine. He dared to look up, meeting the lifeless gaze of a black mask. Before he could speak, the unmistakable click of a cocked gun froze him in place.
The world around him faded, leaving only the deafening thud of his heartbeat in his ears.
Then, the guard took the headwear off, exposing his face. It wasn't just any guard, it was.. Gong Yoo? The man looked at him with a fake pout, but deeply in his eyes hid victory
"What a shame" he said, coming even closer "And to think I actually started to like you"
BAM
Junho woke up with a gasp. His head felt like it was about to explode, and the high beeps of all the machines around him didn't help.
It took him a while to realize what's going on, the odour of a hospital filling his nose.
Death and disinfectant.
He hated that damn smell, (it always brang back the unwanted memories from around three years ago-) but if he wanted to fully wake up he had to exercise his brain a little.
He took a deep breath,trying to catch as many scents as he could.
● Elderly patients are usually incontinent of urine, they often have infections which make the urine smell more.
● Homeless patients don’t have the ability to wash often, they sometimes have a distinctive odour.
● Infection can smell - a strangely sweet odour which clinged to the nose.
● The products they use to clean also have a very strong scent.
He could tell that someone around him had experienced a big trauma, because the the smell of blood was very strong - somewhat akin to the smell of a butcher’s shop where sometimes you can almost taste the iron.
His mother slept right beside his bed on a chair, poor woman looked like she's been crying all night. After a second, almost like if she sensed his revival, she quickly opened her eyes and hugged him so tight he could barley breathe.
"Oh in so sorry Junho, I promise I'll be better!!" His mother's yells were heart breaking "If only I knew, Junho I'm so sorry!"
"What happened..?" His body was shaking from the shock, a ringing sound in his ears appearing as he reached a hand to his temple; Touching the wet bandaids quickly restored his memory. The games, Gong Yoo sitting at his table, russian roulette.. The bang. He lost the round.
"You tried to kill yourself!" she put an emphasis on the last two words "Oh Junho, this is all my fault!! " Her voice trembled with dread, eyes pleading; While she kept on crying her heart out, the staff had run in, checking the monitors.
A chill coursed through Junho's body, his sweat-soaked shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin as dread swallowed him whole. He felt like if someone hit him with a baseball bat. Of course she thought he tried to commit suicide, why else would her son had a fired gun in his hand? She must've woken up to a gunshot.. And then had to see the bloody mess in the dining room.
My God, he completely didn't think about the consequences of the game. He knew that loosing meant death and that all his hard work would've gone to shit, but he completely forgot to think about his mother!
Now, she thinks that t̶h̶e̶ ̶o̶n̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶o̶n̶ ̶s̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶l̶e̶f̶t̶ Junho tried to kill himself, and the worst part is that she thinks it's entirely her fault.
He wanted to yell, to hug her back even tighter and tell her that she's enough, always had been, and that it was all a simple misunderstanding. But how was he supposed to explain it?
Telling his mom that someone had drugged her, and then made Junho play russian roulette while she was sleeping in the next room was off limits.
But was it better than her thinking that he- Stop.
"Don't apologize for anything" his voice was stable, but the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes exposed him. She finally ended the hug and looked at him with glassy eyes, pain and regret painting across them "It's not your fault, mom."
--
The noodles warmth was as comforting as a kiss. Spending one more week in the hospital (to make sure he's fully recovered) was exhausting, but at least he got some of his questions answered:
1. With some serious luck, his shaky hands saved him. Turns out that as he pulled the trigger, his hand slipped and fired at the non fatal area.
2. He had a surgery to remove the bullet from his head while in a coma, leaving a deep wound across his temple (luckily, it's covered by most of his hair, so he didn't have to worry about getting weird looks; he has to take a good care for it till it fully scars though) (Great, another scar on his body.. Why is he collecting them like Pokémons??)
3. His gun got confiscated... Amazing
Junho and his mother now sat at the dining table... The same table he shot himself. The bloodied carpet was gone, leaving a sad reminder of what happened. None of them dared to say anything, so they just ate in silence.
Junho had stopped eating after the first few bites, letting his mind wander endlessly in the silence of the room, not allowing himself to look up at his mother sitting across from him.
In the hospital , she never left his side, not even when he had to go to the bathroom (especially when he had to go to the bathroom, but luckily she left him some privacy and stood outside the door) to make sure a̶t̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ her sons̶ would be safe. Since her last awkward conversation starter she also had lost appetite, avoiding her son's gaze uncomfortably.
Ever since they came back, his mom cooked only his favourite meals, spending hours in the kitchen humming quietly.
Maybe Gong Yoo wasn't so wrong after all, maybe he and his mother really were more similar than he thought. (Except, she escapes her thoughts by cooking, while he drowns himself in work and plays russian roulette with strangers)- Stop.
It's been around a month since the recruiter had gave them a visit, his face still haunting Junho.
That never ending smile, the undecipherable gaze, the smell of his cologne.. Junho remembered it all like if it was yesterday.
Where was he now?
"Mom.." he begun not really knowing what to say, a hollow ache consuming him. "..I'm sorry"
"Oh don't be stupid, I should be the one to-"
"No" he cut her off quickly "You don't understand."
She glanced at him from her soup. After an uncomfortably long silence she sighed "I wasn't exactly telling the truth about how I found you." Her gaze quickly went back, like if she was embarrassed. Junho took his eyes off of food and stared at her, waiting for a follow up. What did she mean by that?
"...To be honest, I didn't hear the gunshot, I must've slept really strong."
"Then.. How did you call the ambulance in time?"
"..."
His mother looked around the room, like if she was looking for something. Her gaze stopped on the part of the floor where Junho bled out, the wooden planks still red from the dried up blood. It seemed like she couldn't find the words.
"I know it might sound a little silly, but.. that day, I felt like if someone had woken me up so I could find you"
Junho stiffened, now his attention now fully on the woman infront of him "I felt someone shaking me gently and even talking a little, but I couldn't recognize the voice"
"...Someone woke you up?"
"Yes.. They told me to go to the dining room, but didn't say why." She looked back at her son, eyes wide "Junho, I know I'm not that religious, but I think it was your guardian angel."
He choked of the air, feeling like time had stopped, everything around felt unreal. Could it be- No.
"Trust me I know it sounds stupid, but the police looked trough the entire place, and they couldn't find any traces of anyone else, just you!"
"But the gun, it wasn't even mine!"
"What are you talking about, of course it was!"
...
That piece of shit.
It all made sense now, in the rush of emotions, Junho didn't even realize that the gun Gong Yoo took out to play with, was his own. He planned it all out.
"You know that once my mother wakes up, she'll get me my gun and call the cops, right?"
"You're adorable, really"
He knew his mom wouldn't bring him his gun, because the gun was already in his hands. He wanted people to think it was just a suicide.
Amidst all the pain he felt rushing through his body, a pang of anger appeared. This anger overtook his whole body and became a searing hot rage.
"You poor thing, you're shaking!"
"Mom."
"Go to bed, I'll make you some tea,"
"Mom."
"We can watch some movies instead if you want to. I think-"
"MOM." The woman became completely silent, sending a wide-eyed stare in his direction.
"I'm sorry." He apologized once again, feeling bad for yelling "But.. oh God, how I put this.. Do you remember that.. man.. who shot me 3 years ago?"
"Oh no, did he come back for you?! Do I need to call the police?" She gasped, jumping out of her seat.
"No, but.. I think I know how to find him."
"Why would you ever wanna go back there?? Junho for the love of god, I almost lost you three times already, I can't deal with this type of pain again!"
"This time I won't be alone."