No Way Out (Squidgame s2 x child reader)

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🌃🌃🌃

I couldn't stop coughing.

Each breath felt like trying to inhale through wet fabric—thick, suffocating, impossible. My chest burned, my throat raw from the force of it. The tissue in my hand was useless now, completely soaked through, but I couldn't even muster the strength to grab another one.

Around me, players continued voting. I could hear them, hear the shuffle of feet, the murmurs of uncertainty, the sharp click of buttons being pressed.

Red or blue. Stay or leave. Live or die.

I should be watching the votes. I should be counting them. But my head was too heavy, my vision blurred, and lifting it to look at the screen felt unbearable.

"I-..." I tried, but my voice came out weak, barely above a whisper.

A hand tightened around mine—Young-il. His grip was firm but trembling, like he was holding on for both of us.

"I'm gonna pass out," I croaked.

And then, I did.

The moment my body gave in, I felt everything at once and nothing at all. My ears buzzed, the world tilting, shifting, and then—black.

.....

Voices.

Distant, muffled, worried.

"...breathing too shallow."

"Shit—what do we do?"

"Guards won't help—"

A rough, calloused hand tapped against my cheek. My head lolled to the side.

"Evelyn," someone whispered. My name. My real name. They sounded desperate. "Come on, wake up."

I wanted to. I really did. But my body felt like lead, my limbs frozen, my brain swimming in thick, sludgy exhaustion.

A sharp pain bloomed in my nose as something pressed against it.

"She's still bleeding," another voice muttered.

I felt a new tissue—or maybe a sleeve—being dabbed under my nose. A warm hand cupped my cheek, steadying me.

"Evelyn, please," Gi-hun. That was Gi-hun. His voice was soft but firm, a mixture of concern and barely concealed panic.

I let out a weak breath. It was all I could manage.

"Oh, thank God," Jung-bae exhaled in relief. "She's not dead."

"Obviously," Dae-ho snapped. "She just—she lost a lot of blood. And she's sick. It's gotta be a fever or something."

"Probably from the stress," Jun-hee added quietly. "And the cold."

I felt my body shifting, strong arms pulling me up slightly. My head lolled against a warm shoulder, and I barely recognized Young-il's voice as he muttered, "She needs rest."

Rest.

That sounded good.

I let myself sink into the warmth, my mind slipping away from the pain, the voices, the games.

Just for a moment.

Darkness.

Thick, endless, suffocating.

I was surrounded by it, swallowed whole. No light, no sound, just an eerie stillness that stretched on forever.

Was this death?