No Way Out (Squidgame s2 x child reader)

|15|

🌃🌃🌃

Back in the bunk room, the air was thick with something unspoken. It wasn't relief, not really. We had survived—again—but the weight of what was coming next clung to my skin, pressing down on my lungs.

Jun-hee sat next to me, her expression unreadable, but I could tell she was exhausted. We all were.

Then, 333 appeared.

I tensed.

He didn't hesitate—just grabbed her wrist and pulled.

Jun-hee stiffened beside me, shaking her head slowly, but she didn't pull away.

I didn't like that.

My eyes narrowed as I side-eyed him, my body instinctively leaning forward. I didn't trust him. I didn't trust anyone outside of our team.

Still, I didn't move.

Instead, I forced a big smile on my face and sat down in my usual spot, resting my arms on my knees. Stay positive, right? That's what Eomma would say.

But I didn't look away.

I wasn't subtle about it, either.

I watched them—watched him—like a hawk, my fingers curling slightly against my leg.

Was he the father?

The chances were slim. Almost impossible.

But then again... my uncle had somehow ended up here too.

Nothing was impossible.

Jun-hee disappeared with him for a few minutes, and I kept my eyes locked on the spot where they'd been. My leg bounced. My breath felt uneven.

When she finally came back, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

She didn't look at me.

That made something in my stomach twist.

I didn't press her, though.

Instead, I slipped under the stairs where the others were, crawling into the small space before settling next to Gi-hun.

He was stiff.

Still glaring at Young-il.

For fuck's sake. Could they not just have a normal conversation?

I huffed, reaching for his sleeve and giving it a small tug.

"Gi-hun," I muttered.

Nothing.

I frowned, tugging again. "Come on, don't—"

"He left you," Gi-hun cut me off, voice low.

I blinked.

He didn't look at me.

Only at Young-il.

Tension crackled between them like static before a storm.

I had a bad feeling about this. Was he talking about mingle? Maybe? 

The blaring alarm sliced through the room, snapping the tense murmur of conversation into absolute silence.

My pulse stuttered.

The flashing red lights bathed everything in a harsh, sickly glow, making the already suffocating space feel smaller. The guards stood in a perfectly aligned row, their featureless masks reflecting the red like demons watching from the shadows.