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The dagger looked obscene in Gi-hun's hand.
I'm sorry, In-ho wanted to say, I'm sorry it's come to this. You shouldn't have come back. You should have gotten on the plane. This is your fault, not mine. Please listen to me. Please do what I say.
"No," Gi-hun sneered, "I'm not—I won't," he threw the knife on the ground, heaving, "I'll find a way out. I'll—I'll find another way," he glared at In-ho, "I'll show you. I don't need your help," he spat, "I don't need your twisted charity!"
In-ho closed his eyes and sighed, disappointed but not surprised. Gi-hun really did remind him so much of his Yuna. Both of them were too kind, too set in their ways to listen to him.
It doesn't matter, In-ho stood and lifted his head, heart aching over what he was about to do but it needed to be done, I will not lose Gi-hun. If he can't make the right decision, I'll make it for him. He'll thank me one day. I know he will.
"If that is your choice," In-ho said, "I will respect it," he lied, "you are free to go, player 456."
Gi-hun blinked at him, shocked. His eyes darted between In-ho and the door, as if he couldn't believe he was being dismissed. In-ho did not say anything more. He just stood there, completely still, waiting for the elevator door to open. Breathing heavily, Gi-hun slowly edged toward the door, his gaze switching between In-ho and the dagger. When the elevator chimed, Gi-hun nodded to himself and full turn toward the exit, his shoulders relaxed. In-ho shook his head and quickly put on his mask again.
He needed to be the frontman for what was coming. He needed Gi-hun to know that he never had a choice. That In-ho had already sealed his fate.
As soon as the door opened, one of the pink guards immediately tackled Gi-hun to the ground. Shouting, Gi-hun tried to buck the man off but they just cuffed his hands behind his back before forcing Gi-hun to kneel on the floor.
"Young-il!" he screamed, "you said I could go! You said—"
Another guard came into the room, gently bouncing the baby in their arms.
"Wait!" Gi-hun tried to stand but the guard kept him down, "No, wait stop!" tears clogged his voice, "wait, no, no please—please don't hurt her Young-il, please!"
"I'm not going to hurt her," In-ho scoffed, gently taking the baby girl into his arms, rocking her, "I'm going to keep her safe," he faced Gi-hun, "I'm going to make sure she survives."
Panting, Gi-hun looked at the baby, eyes damp, "What-what do you want?" he sniffled, straining forwards, "please, please—please give her to me please, I'll do anything," he pleaded, "please, Young-il, please!"
In-ho shook his head and stepped forward. He stopped in front of Gi-hun and looked down at him, his heart beating loudly between his eyes, hands sweating in his leather gloves.
"Why should I give her back to you?" In-ho asked, "Why should I give you the baby when you were so willing to walk back into the dorms without any kind of plan or protection?" In-ho let out a breath, "How will you save here, Gi-hun? How are you going to protect her from the players that want her dead?" he took a step back, "Are you going to throw away Jun-hee's sacrifice?" In-ho hissed, "are you going to throw away her death for your morals?"
Sobbing, Gi-hun bowed his head, his tears dripping onto the floor. In-ho let him cry for a couple of minutes before he spoke again, voice cold but steady.
"Kill the players," In-ho ordered, "kill them all and I will give you the baby."
Gi-hun snapped his head up. His face was pale, but an angry blush crept up his neck and ears. He opened his mouth wide, teeth set in a snarl, but no words or sound came out. Instead, Gi-hun looked between In-ho and the baby, breathing unsteady.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Gi-hun spoke.
“You'll let us go?” he whispered, voice raw, “you—you won't hurt her? You'll get us off this island?”
In-ho grinned behind his mask and nodded.
“I promise,” In-ho said, looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms, “do as I say, and no harm will come to you or the baby.”
“...what happens if I don't kill them?” Gi-hun asked, stubborn, “what—what happens then? Would you-would you kill her?”
In-ho clicked his tongue, irritated, “I wouldn't be the one to kill her. I would just feed her to the wolves waiting in the dorms,” he cocked his head, “and I would make you watch.”
Heaving, Gi-hun frantically shook his head, his arms straining behind his back.
“No! No, no, no, please I'll—“ he swallowed, “I'll-I'll do it, I'll-” he closed his eyes and lifted his head as if in prayer, “just...just please don't hurt her, please,” still on his knees, Gi-hun bowed. In-ho licked his lips and shuddered, glad that Gi-hun wasn't looking at him.
“I hope you do,” In-ho took a couple of steps back and nodded at the guard behind Gi-hun. Nodding, the guard quickly freed Gi-hun's hands while the other guard raised his rifle, ready.
Groaning, Gi-hun practically fell face first onto the floor, his hands barely catching him. Panting, he slowly stood him, his knees shaking.
“Pick up the knife,” In-ho told him. Gi-hun winced but did as he was told. He held the knife in his hands and stared at it, “the guards will take you back to the dorms,” In-ho lifted one of his hands and pulled his coat down a little, “I sharpened the dagger earlier today,” he touched the side of his neck, “cut here; this is where the jugular is. Strike fast and deep. They might all be drunk but they could still fight back,” In-ho warned.
“Please,” Gi-hun pleaded, his knees trembling, “please...Young-il...” he hiccuped, “I don't—you don't need to save me. You can just save her, please—“
“Player 456,” In-ho barked, his voice echoing around the room. The baby jumped in his arms, startled and let out a whimper but In-ho patted her back and lulled her back to sleep, “I will not repeat myself. You know what you have to do. You know what will happen if you refuse my help,” he paused, “the choice is yours, player 456.”
Heaving, Gi-hun looked down, shoulders hunched, trembling.
“Ok,” he whispered, voice almost gone, “ok,” he wiped his cheeks and raised his head, his eyes seeking In-ho's behind the mask, “just don't hurt her,” he begged, “don't hurt her.”
I would never, In-ho wanted to say, I would never hurt her. She's not Jun-hee's daughter anymore; she's our daughter. How could I ever lay a hand on our child?
“That depends on you, doesn't it player 456?” In-ho said instead. He nodded to the guards, “take him to the dorms.”
One of the guards took Gi-hun's arm and pulled him towards the elevator. Gi-hun did not resist. He stumbled after the soldiers, his eyes still glued on In-ho, burning with an emotion In-ho could not decipher.
Before the elevator closed, Gi-hun dropped his gaze to the baby in In-ho's arms, still peacefully sleeping. He stared at her until the doors closed, dagger gripped tight in his hand and lips set in a thin line.
Sighing, In-ho walked back to his chair and turned it around to face the screen, carefully sitting down so as to not jostle his daughter.
“Don't worry,” In-ho took off his mask and sighed, “I'm sure your appa will do what needs to be done,” he smiled down at the baby, heart full and warm, “and then...then we can go home.”
Home. For the first time in years, In-ho was going to have a home, not just a house. Not just a tiny apartment he visited out of guilt and loss but an actual home.
“Come on Gi-hun,” In-ho murmured, leg bouncing, “make the right choice. Please.”
In-ho hoped that Gi-hun would kill the players. If he didn't, In-ho would have no choice but to put Gi-hun and their daughter back in the game. The VIP's would forgive him for arming Gi-hun with the dagger. After all, Gi-hun was their favorite player; their favorite horse. In-ho was sure the VIP's would be delighted to see Gi-hun kill the others and win again.
However, if In-ho were to take Gi-hun and the baby completely out of the games...
He shivered.
The VIP's would not like that. They would not like that at all and In-ho honestly didn't know what they would do to Gi-hun. To the baby. To him.
“We don't have a choice,” In-ho told the baby and turned on the screen, heart beating between his teeth, “your appa has to kill them for you to live,” he swallowed. Old memories crept up his throat, chocking him, “he's going to chose you. I know he will.”
In-ho wondered what choice his wife would have made. Yuna was such a kind woman; kind and lively but quiet , almost meek. However, there were times where her anger bubbled over and In-ho saw just how strong and stubborn his wife really was.
“I won't lose again,” In-ho murmured, running a finger down the baby's nose, grinning when the girl smiled in her sleep, “Not this time,” he looked at the screen. He watched as Gi-hun stumbled back into the dorms. He watched as Gi-hun looked at each and every player, his body trembling with indecision, the knife gleaming in his hand.
Make the right choice, In-ho prayed, please make the right choice. Please, please Gi-hun, please make the right choice.
Body thrumming, In-ho watched as Gi-hun slowly made his way to where player 100 lay sleeping. Gi-hun looked around the room until he found one of the cameras. He stared at it and In-ho could feel Gi-hun's gaze wrap around his throat, choking him.
“Come on,” In-ho breathed out, knee bouncing faster, “make the right choice. Kill them. Kill them. Do it for your daughter,” he swallowed, “do it for me. Please.”
Gi-hun looked down at player 100 for a long moment before slowly raising the dagger up in the air, arm stiff but steady. In-ho held his breath, a storm raging inside his chest.
Do it, In-ho wanted to scream, do it. Do it. Do it.
And as if he was listening, Gi-hun did it.
The dagger sliced through the air and sunk into the players neck. Before player 100 opened his eyes, Gi-hun stabbed him again. And again. And again.
A laugh bubbled out of In-ho's throat and tears pricked his eyes but he didn't care. Gi-hun was doing it. He was doing it. He was going to kill the players for their daughter. For him.
He watched, in awe as Gi-hun slowly moved away from his first victim, his body taut and eyes completely empty. Blood dripped down his hand and knife, leaving dark red stains on the concrete floors.
In-ho shuddered. He remembered his own games.
He remembered how heavy the dagger felt in his hand. He remembered the hesitation, the despair and finally the resolve to do what needed to be done.
Even now, almost ten years later, In-ho could still remember the smell and taste of iron and salt. He could still remember how hot and slippery their blood was and how hard it was not to lose his grip on the knife. In-ho remembered the gurgling, the rattling of drowning lungs and the echo of his own heavy breaths and sobs.
“I'm sorry,” In-ho closed his eyes and held the baby—his and Gi-hun's baby—closer to him, “It's for your own good Gi-hun. Everything I do is for you,” he opened his eyes and continued to watch the massacre on screen, “I hope you'll understand that one day.”
By the time Gi-hun came to the last player, he was covered head to toe in splotches of blood. Silent tears ran down his face but he was no longer trembling. No, Gi-hun stood next to player's 333 bed, quietly panting and dagger raised up. He looked like an avenging angel and In-ho felt the love he had for Gi-hun burst inside his chest, drowning him in hope and warmth.
“Did you see?” In-ho bent his head and rubbed his nose on the baby's forehead, happy, “your appa saved you,” he chuckled, “he protected you. I knew he would. I knew he would do anything for you,” he sneered and looked up just in time to see Gi-hun plunge the knife deep into Lee Myung-gi's neck.
The young man's eyes flew open and a gurgling scream ripped out of him. In-ho watched, smirking as Myung-gi weakly thrashed on the bed, his hands coming up to cover the wound on his neck. Blood seeped between his fingers. His mouth stayed open, stuck on a silent cry, a silent plea for mercy.
“He would have killed you,” In-ho told his daughter, disgust curling in his gut, “I've no doubt that he would have killed you if it meant he would have lived.”
Within seconds, Myung-gi stopped fighting. His hands slipped down his chest and the blood flow slowed to a trickle. His eyes lost focus and for a second, Gi-hun looked at him, horror and nausea splashed across his face. Heaving, Gi-hun shook his head, as if he was trying to shake away the sins he'd just committed.
Gi-hun dropped the bloody knife and sunk down to his knees. He brought his hands up to his face and stared at them, shocked.
“Players 039, 100, 336, 353, 203, 125 and 333 eliminated. Winners—player 456 and player 222. Congratulation players 456 and 222.”
Laughing, In-ho leaned down and kissed his daughters cheeks, cooing at her when she fussed, her hands opening and closing.
“He did it,” In-ho murmured to her, relief flooding her body, “you're safe,” a tear slipped down his cheek but In-ho didn't care, “We're going to be a family,” he leaned back in his chair, shoulders slumping, “He did it. He did it.”
In-ho knew he hadn't won yet. He knew that he'd broken something in Gi-hun that he would probably never be able to repair but at the moment, he didn't care. Gi-hun was alive. He and their daughter were alive. In-ho would gladly take whatever Gi-hun threw at him after this.
“It was the only way,” In-ho told himself and the baby, “there was no other choice.”
This time, In-ho managed to save his family. He wasn't too late. He saved them. He saved them.
On the screen, In-ho watched as two guards carefully helped Gi-hun to his feet. He watched as they guided Gi-hun, who continued to stare at his bloodied hands, out of the dorm. Gi-hun followed them but he did not say anything. He did not do anything. He just looked at his trembling hands as if he were seeing them for the first time in his life. As if they were not a part of him. As if they were alien.
With a sigh, In-ho carefully got out of his chair and turned the screen off. The baby cooed in her sleep and snuggled closer to him, pouting. In-ho gently rubbed her head and headed to his bedroom.
“Here,” he whispered, gently laying the baby down in the cot next to his bed, “your appa will be here soon,” In-ho assured her, “and in a few days, we'll all be going home.”
In-ho sat down on the bed. He ran his hands down his face, shuddering and biting back tears of relief, hope and regret.
He's never going to forgive you, a voice whispered, he's never going to forget this. He's going to hate you. He's going to hate you for the rest of his life. Do you really think Gi-hun is going to be with you? To play house with you?
“I saved him,” In-ho whispered, “I saved him and our daughter,” he looked at the baby, “He can't hate me forever,” he told himself, “sooner or later, he'll realize that I was right,” he nodded to himself, “he'll love me...eventually. I know he will. He will.”
In-ho hoped, anyways. He hoped that Gi-hun would forgive him. He hoped he could give Gi-hun and himself another family, a better family. He hoped Gi-hun would grow to love him. After all, In-ho knew that Gi-hun liked Young-il didn't he?
“He'll love me one day,” In-ho nodded, “he will. I know he will.”
He hoped. He really hoped.