Chapter Text
Jongwoo’s phone was ringing in his bag. The buzzing was almost inaudible thanks to the bustling of people around him.
Seoul’s subway station tended to be busy, especially at times like this when most of the office workers had finished their labors for the day and started their trek back home. Jongwoo could see the tiredness in their overworked faces as their eyes drooped more with every second. Weariness seeped from their bodies and gathered in shadowy pools below them.
It was in moments like this that he couldn’t find it in himself to regret any of the events that caused him to lose his job at Jaeho’s company.
What happened at Eden would forever be cemented in his memory, even though Jongwoo struggled to remember most things from that night. The rain was a constant whenever he made an active effort to recall something. He could hear it hitting the roof above his tiny room or wetting his clothes as the wind whipped through his hair.
Mostly, he remembered Moonjo kneeling in front of him and clasping the bracelet around his wrist, whispering, almost reverently, about how he’d be spared. And then he remembered Moonjo with a trail of red across his neck as he rammed a scalpel into his jugular.
The hospital was also just a hazy memory. Sterile white surfaces, the smell of antiseptic, and the buzzing of lights in his room. Nurses would come to and fro, but he never remembered any of their names.
At one point, a pair of detectives came to speak with him about Eden. Jongwoo didn’t talk to them, just stared until they started shifting uncomfortably and left.
The only consistent visitor he had was Junghwa, the nice policewoman who had talked with him before things started to go downhill. She spoke to him kindly, eyes full of pity as she took in his injuries.
There were a few moments when Jongwoo caught her staring, looking almost afraid as their eyes locked. It took him a while to realize that it was because he was the same as Moonjo.
Jieun had left him soon after Jongwoo was released from the hospital. She’d texted him for the first time in weeks, and they’d met at a cafe near her work. She’d cried as she explained that they should go their separate ways. Looking down at the table, refusing to meet his eyes as she spoke.
Jongwoo didn’t take it well. He had gone back to Eden, he had gone back to Moonjo, for her, he had saved her. Hell, he had killed for Jieun, and had driven a knife through his neighbor's neck just so she could be safe. But instead, she was crying over Jaeho’s death. Jaeho, of all people, who still managed to haunt him from the grave.
Still, he understood. He couldn’t stay with Jieun anymore either; every time he looked at her, all he could hear was Moonjo’s voice whispering in his ear. Pushing him to wrap his hands around her throat and feel the fire under his fingertips as the life drained out of her.
He couldn’t do that to Jieun; he was in love with Jieun, or at least he had loved her at some point. Either way, he moved on quickly, leaving her behind in that cafe as she continued to cry into her coffee.
Jongwoo switched easily between boarding houses and motels. Clinging onto his laptop like a lifeline and staying mostly to himself.
The hospital kept sending him bills, crisp white letters with meticulous cost breakdowns, and a far too large total printed at the bottom. He never paid them, and he stopped receiving them after he moved for the fifth time. Once they realized that he didn’t have a stable address, they started emailing him. Jongwoo let their calls ring as payment reminder messages started piling up in his voicemail.
Snapping back to the present, Jongwoo felt the train start to slow down. It was subtle at first, but as they approached the station, a woman’s voice came on over the PA system to announce the upcoming stop.
It wasn’t necessarily where he had intended to get off, but he didn’t have a destination in mind anyway, so he figured that this would do.
The station was impeccably clean, tiles swept and mopped of any dust and debris, and lights shining brightly overhead.
Others besides Jongwoo scrambled out of the subway car, eager to head back to their families or whatever else they had planned.
Jongwoo had no such aspirations, content to idle in the station before he was required to figure out where he was staying tonight. A bench along one of the walls caught his eye; it was empty and seemed far enough out of the way that no one would make an effort to bother him.
Jongwoo sat down heavily, the bench groaning slightly from the sudden increase in weight. It wasn’t that he was desperate; he just didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t afford another boarding house, and without a stable address, he was out of a job. At this rate, he might have to move back to Busan with his mother.
He sighed heavily, and he continued to think. He vaguely registered a man sitting down next to him and the faint click of a briefcase being set on the floor.
“Excuse me, sir,” The man who’d sat beside him started. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?”
“I’m not interested.” Jongwoo quickly interrupted, keen to shut the conversation down.
“If you’ll just give me a moment, I’d love to show you my offer.” The salesman started again as he opened his briefcase between the two of them.
“I told you I’m not interested, I don’t have money to buy anything from you.” Jongwoo spun around, fed up with the man sitting next to him. “Much less this…” he trailed off as he gestured down to the briefcase, only to find it full of cash and folded paper for ddakji.
“I’m sure you know how to play ddakji. Just play a few rounds with me and I’ll give you some money every time you win.”
He wanted to ask what the hell the man was talking about. Playing ddakji was already a stretch but with money on the line in the middle of a subway station seemed almost insane. But, as Jongwoo looked up to meet the other man’s eyes for the first time and tell him just that, his mouth closed, and his teeth ground together.
Logically, he knew this man wasn’t Moonjo, hell they didn’t even look alike besides their eyes. Both were dark and set deep in their face with a look of exhaustion comparable to the office workers he had seen earlier. Except they were different, like two sides of the same coin.
The workers looked defeated like they were stuck in a cycle they couldn’t escape. The man in the suit looked like he was tired of the people around him. His faith in humanity was splintered, just one push away from shattering altogether.
“So would you like to play, I already told you the rules.” The man asked, maintaining eye contact with Jongwoo the entire time.
Jongwoo’s jaw clenched at the man’s voice, and he could feel his teeth start to gnaw at his bottom lip. He could only nod in response as the man’s face split into a large smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“So, which color do you want to play as?” He held up both the red and blue cards like an offering to Jongwoo.
The bracelet around Jongwoo’s wrist jingled dangerously as he reached his hand out. “I’ll take red.”
It took less than a week after that for Jongwoo to get his new job. He didn’t know where he was working, just that he was on an island and that he wouldn’t be permitted to contact anyone from the outside.
The offer was simple, and it paid enough money that Jongwoo couldn’t turn it down. He had negotiated briefly with someone in order to bring his computer with him. Jongwoo had to finish his story, and he had a feeling that this job would help him find the inspiration he needed.
It wasn’t until the first day that he was handed a gun and told of his responsibilities. The man in front of him in a black suit and square mask looked wary as Jongwoo simply nodded and fastened his own triangle mask over his face.