Chapter Text
As the first faint light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, Seong Gi-hun slowly opened his eyes from sleep.
A wave of soreness and exhaustion immediately flooded his body, spreading through his mind in an instant.
His body, still soft and weakened after the fever had finally subsided, felt utterly drained—so much so that even lifting a single finger seemed impossible.
He lay there in the soft pillows of the black leather bed like a cracked porcelain figure, slightly turned to the side, remaining still and quiet.
At that moment, the door was pushed open with unusual gentleness.
Hwang In-ho walked in carrying a carefully prepared, warm breakfast.
He was dressed only in a thin white shirt, the collar loosely undone. The stern authority he carried during the day was gone, replaced entirely by a softness that seemed impossible to erase.
“Gi-hun-sii, you’re awake? You expended too much energy. I made something easy to digest—try to eat a little.”
He sat down at the edge of the bed.
With both hands, he carefully supported Gi-hun’s weakened back, lifting him slightly with a gentleness that made the gesture feel as if he were handling something irreplaceable and fragile.
Because Gi-hun could barely move, he could only allow Hwang In-ho to bring the spoon to his lips.
Even so, he stubbornly muttered, “Hmph… this breakfast is passable, I guess…”
But his body betrayed him completely, leaning most of his weight naturally into Hwang In-ho’s strong, solid chest.
Watching his tough words paired with unmistakable reliance, Hwang In-ho’s eyes were filled with indulgent warmth.
Just before coming down here earlier, he had used his authority as the Front Man to access classified player files—and specifically checked Seong Gi-hun’s birthday.
The result happened to be today.
At that moment, Hwang In-ho sat by the bedside, looking almost like a young man experiencing his first crush, earnestly trying to figure out what kind of gift would make his “Player 456” truly happy.
On the island, resources were scarce. Money, status, and all the luxuries of the outside world meant nothing here, and he found himself at a loss for what would be appropriate.
In the end, his gaze fell on the faint redness at the corners of Gi-hun’s eyes, and something clicked in his mind.
He had his answer.
He would give him a whole bouquet of carefully cultivated red roses from the greenhouse—along with something far more important:
The sincerity of a heart that had been reignited from ashes by Seong Gi-hun himself, offered without reservation.
Meanwhile, Seong Gi-hun remained completely unaware of what was being prepared for him.
After breakfast, Hwang In-ho stayed with him in the private room for the entire day, showing a level of patience that bordered on devotion.
With warm palms, he repeatedly massaged the sore tension in Gi-hun’s lower back and thighs, never once growing tired. At the same time, he spoke with him about the outside world—about ordinary, almost luxurious everyday things that now felt distant and unreal on the island.
Under this overwhelming, almost suffocating tenderness, the part of Gi-hun’s heart that had once gone still and numb began to stir again, sending faint waves of warmth through him once more.
Time passed quickly, like sand slipping through an hourglass. Before long, the island was once again struck by its first warm rainstorm of the night.
As thunder rolled outside the window, all the lights in the room suddenly went out.
In the darkness, Hwang In-ho gently took a soft black silk ribbon and carefully tied it over Seong Gi-hun’s unfocused eyes.
“Gi-hun-sii, be good. Close your eyes. I’m taking you somewhere.”
Gi-hun’s body tensed slightly in the dark, but he did not resist.
He could feel a firm hand steadying him at the waist and hips as Hwang In-ho lifted him into his arms in a careful, bridal carry.
Step by step, he carried him out of the original room and into another space—more enclosed, and far more spacious—another private chamber deep within the facility.