dongwoon: Circus Games: Round One

[snapshot]

title: Circus Games: Round One
fandom: Beast
pairing: Dongwoon-centric, OT6
genre: Sci-fi
rating: PG-13
word count: 10, 564
summary: Dongwoon has to fight stay alive and stay in the game.
notes: written for beastattack's minibang. i can't even begin to say how grateful i am to freefallskyline for editing this and putting up with all my whining. this is not the end, there will be another companion piece to this.

also, i have a writing meme going on over here! check it out if it tickles your fancy (:



Dongwoon wakes up with a crick in his neck, the glaring light from his computer blinding him momentarily. He groans, stretching as he leans back into the chair, wondering what time he had fallen asleep. Falling asleep at his computer has become such a regular occurrence that Dongwoon has forgotten what it’s like to sleep in a bed, but it’s all for the best. The more time he spends away from his computer, the less time he spends hacking into the government’s server.

He frowns at his computer screen when he realises that he still hasn’t hacked past the window he’s been working on since noon yesterday. Dongwoon stretches out his arms out in front of him, pausing for a moment to take a quick whiff of his armpit. He pulls back almost instantly. Clearly, the concept of showering has eluded him for the past couple of days, because he smells of gym-sweat and dirty laundry. He needs to shower, that much is obvious, but at the same time he needs to continue hacking into this fucking window.

The front door to the tiny apartment creaks open and Dongwoon barely spares the person a glance, still caught up in his internal debate.

“Go shower.”

“I need to get past this window,” Dongwoon replies, rolling his shoulders before placing his fingers over the keyboard. “It’s important.”

“If you don’t get up to shower now, you’re not going to think about it until next week!”

Dongwoon turns to glare at Gikwang, who places two large, brown paper bags on the kitchen counter. “I’ll take a shower once I get past this window!”

“I can smell you from here,” Gikwang says, taking out the contents of the paper bags. “And so can this food! Look, this apple is practically rotting in front of me.” Gikwang holds up a slightly bruised apple to show Dongwoon, grinning broadly.

Dongwoon blinks, forgetting their argument for a second. “Where the hell did you manage to find an apple?”

“Do you know who I am?” Gikwang is shimmying around the kitchen, holding the bruised apple in his hands like a trophy. “I am the greatest, most infamous-”

“Oh, for the love of-”

“The most wonderful, most handsome-”

“Are you done yet?” Dongwoon walks over to Gikwang, plucking the apple from Gikwang’s hands. He looks at it, feeling slightly breathless. “Is it even real?”

Gikwang rolls his eyes, and takes the apple back from Dongwoon. “Of course it’s real! And I’m not telling you where I got it, either. It’s a secret.”

“We don’t keep secrets.”

“We do if one of us smells like the sewer,” Gikwang says pointedly, going back to unpacking the rest of the paper bags. “Seriously, Dongwoon, that window isn’t going to go anywhere in the five minutes that it will take you to shower.”

“I just need-”

“To shower.”

“Fine,” Dongwoon says, sighing heavily, walking out of the kitchen. He picks out sweats, a shirt and a fresh pair of boxers from the basket of clean clothes at the foot of their bed and quietly makes his way to the tiny bathroom, listening to Gikwang sing as he shuts the door. He places the clothes he picked out on top of the toilet seat and adjusts the temperature of the water to his liking.

As he showers, he thinks about the window that he can’t get past. He doesn’t know why this particular window is so difficult. At first, he’d thought that it was just like the other windows of coding he had to get through, but the more he’d hacked into it, the more complicated it had become. He’d been pretty excited about it, because the other windows he’d hacked into had been relatively easy and had barely provided him with a challenge. Now, however, Dongwoon has to keep retracing his steps because the coding in the window is becoming more convoluted the more he hacks. While the hacker in Dongwoon is excited by the challenge, the coder in him is irritated by the lack of organisation and simplicity the government coder had used when setting up the window.

He pounds a fist at the tiled wall, grimacing at the twinge of pain that follows. The sigh that leaves his lips is barely there, but it triggers a flood of unbidden thoughts that Dongwoon usually tries his best not to think about. He thinks of his father’s sudden disappearance, the cryptic letter he’d left behind, the way the government had nosedived into chaos. Dongwoon is more than positive that his father’s disappearance has to do with the state of anarchy that the government is in, but he hasn’t quite worked out the whys and hows yet.

For the past six months, he’s been hacking into the government’s server window by window, but he still has nothing to show for it. Each day he tells himself that all he needs is to make it past the next window, and he’ll soon be where he needs to be to find all the answers. Sighing once more, Dongwoon shakes his head, trying to dispel the thoughts as he turns off the water.

He dries himself quickly, throws on his clothes and speed walks over to his computer. Just as he’s about to sit down, Gikwang pulls the chair away.

“What?” Dongwoon says, exasperated that he’s about to lose more time from hacking into the window.

“Let’s eat lunch!” Gikwang gestures with his head to the small table that’s settled in between the imaginary line of the kitchen and the rest of the apartment.

“I can eat it at my desk.” Dongwoon quickly sidesteps Gikwang, before stopping suddenly when he sees the food. “Where did you find fruit?”

“I told you, it’s a secret,” Gikwang replies, pulling Dongwoon down to sit on the cushions laid out on the floor.

“No, really, Gikwang, where the hell did you find it?” Dongwoon begins to panic because they could be found, because Gikwang’s been charged with stealing and fraud more than once, because the government could stop him. Gikwang pinches him, smiling in that unnerving way that always manages to calm him down.

“Do you really want to know?” Gikwang asks, and Dongwoon looks over at him, trying to decide on an answer. “That’s what I thought. Don’t think about it, just eat, okay?”

Dongwoon unconsciously licks his lips before picking up an apple slice.

“That’s part of dessert!” Gikwang protests loudly but Dongwoon doesn’t care. It’s been months since he’s heard the satisfying crunch of an apple slice between his teeth; the fruitiness of the taste delivers a punch to his taste buds that has him twitching.

Gikwang laughs at him as he pops a slice into his own mouth. Dongwoon grins as he watches Gikwang have the same reaction as he had. Not holding back, Dongwoon grabs at the rest of the food that Gikwang has placed out on the table. Most of it, he hasn’t eaten or even seen in over a year.

“I still can’t believe you got all of this,” Dongwoon says between mouthfuls, swallowing carefully before giving Gikwang a once over. “You didn’t get it illegally, did you?”

Gikwang shoves more food into his mouth by way of an answer, and Dongwoon’s lips twitch, but he stays silent. He decides not to question it for the time being, especially since if it weren’t for Gikwang, Dongwoon wouldn’t be feeling as full as he was now.

“You’re doing the dishes.” Gikwang stands up, stretching as he walks over to the bed pushed up against the wall and lies down in it.

“But the window-”

“Is still going to be there,” Gikwang interrupts, smiling cheekily as he turns over in the bed. “It’s nap time.”

Dongwoon sighs, grudgingly getting up to do the dishes. Feeling vengeful, he takes one of the napkins on the table and rolls it into a ball to throw at Gikwang’s head. Just as he’s about to throw it, he hears Gikwang snore loudly. With a shake of his head, Dongwoon drops the napkin ball back onto the table. He gathers up the dishes as quietly as he can, careful not to wake Gikwang. It’s the least he can do, Dongwoon knows; after all, Gikwang is the brave one out of the two of them. He’s the only one who dares to go outside the apartment.

Dongwoon is still trying to crack the window when Gikwang wakes up.

“Don’t tell me it’s the same window,” Gikwang says, voice rough with sleep.

“It’s not.”

“Really? You hacked it?”

“No.” Dongwoon swivels around in his chair to look at Gikwang, who’s sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall with hair still messy from sleep.

“Then why did you say it wasn’t?”

“You said not to tell you it was the same window,” Dongwoon replies, swiveling back around to face his computer.

“Smartass.”

Dongwoon ignores the comment, saying, “I’m almost there, I can feel it.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Gikwang points out.

“This is different!”

Gikwang hums in response. Dongwoon feels the slight itch of irritation under his skin. He knows Gikwang well enough to know that he’s being indulged like a child, something he doesn’t appreciate very much at the moment. Gikwang doesn’t understand what Dongwoon is doing, doesn’t understand what it could mean if-when-he finds out the secret that the government’s been hiding, doesn’t understand that he could find his father by doing this, doesn’t-

“I did it,” he whispers, eyes wide, staring at the screen in disbelief. And he says it again, more loudly this time: “I did it!”

“What? Seriously?” Gikwang is out of bed and next to him, pressing his face closer to the screen, before he can respond.

“Holy shit,” Dongwoon says, turning his head slightly to meet Gikwang’s eyes before looking back at the screen. “I’m a genius.”

The computer screen, which had been displaying the window with all the codes, turns white and Dongwoon is too shocked to say anything. Everything that he had spent the past two days on is gone; he didn’t even have time to blink, and then-

“What’s going on?” There’s a slight tremble in Gikwang’s voice. Dongwoon doesn’t know how to answer and can only watch as the screen starts to flash white and green. And, as suddenly as the flashing had begun, it stops.

“What the hell did you do, Dongwoon?”

“I-I-I don’t-fuck!” Dongwoon stands up, hands gripping the sides of his desk when the screen turns black. This can’t be happening, he thinks. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be mother fucking happening.

And then Dongwoon forgets how to breathe.

The word welcome appears on the black screen, inscribed in green text.

“Dongwoon, what the hell is-”

“Don’t talk.”

“But the screen-”

“Just shut up!” Dongwoon looks over at Gikwang, who’s glaring at him. “Seriously, Gikwang, you never know when to shut-” He stops talking when all the colour drains from Gikwang’s face. Dongwoon’s eyes snap back to the screen.

Game. Start.

Game? What game? What the hell is the government do-And, just like that, everything that Dongwoon had thought was impossible begins to happen.

Two players. Single game.

Player 1: Son Dongwoon

Player 2: Lee Gikwang

And then the words start disappearing one-by-one until there is only one word left blinking on the screen.

Start

Dongwoon feels a slight breeze sift through his hair. The unmistakable feeling of dread explodes in his stomach, when he belatedly remembers there are no windows in their apartment. Dongwoon turns to look at Gikwang, they share a look of terror, and at that precise moment, a forceful wind takes over their apartment. He closes his eyes, one hand holding onto the edge of the desk, the other gripping Gikwang’s arm. The wind is whipping at him, pushing him forward. Opening his eyes slightly, Dongwoon sees papers with his writing flying past his eyes, as well as books that have been forgotten. Suddenly, the screen shines white light.

It’s the last thing Dongwoon registers as his vision blurs.

The first thing Dongwoon notices when he comes to is that he’s on his knees. The next is that wherever he is, it’s dark; his wrists are shackled to the wall and his ankles to the cement floor. He pulls his wrists forward, causing the shackles to dig into his skin. Wincing, Dongwoon tries the same with his ankles, and ends up with the same result. Despite how dark it is, Dongwoon can make out the shapes of iron bars to his left; the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he takes in his surroundings. Looking down at what he’s wearing, he notices that he’s not in the same clothes he changed into after his shower. The cotton of the jumpsuit he’s wearing makes his skin itch, which he doesn’t find particularly amusing.

Again, desperately this time, Dongwoon jerks at the shackles on his wrists, and again, the rough iron digs into his skin. He’s not sure where he is or why he’s here, the only thing he knows for sure is that he needs to get out now. As he tries to break free from his chains, he realises that something feels wrong-out of place. But what? Then it hits him, hard and fast like lightning-Gikwang.

How could he forget Gikwang? Was he also sucked into the screen because of the wind in the apartment? Frantically, he pulls harder at the shackles chaining him down. The need to escape has escalated tenfold now that he’s realised his best friend might be near.

“Gikwang!” Dongwoon tries to yell, but his voice comes out hoarse. Clearing his throat, he tries again, “Gikwang!”

The only response he gets is his own voice bouncing off the walls, whizzing past his ears. Tears start to well in his eyes as he continuously struggles to break free. His wrists are burning and he’s been on his knees for so long that he’s pretty sure that the cement has cut through the fabric of his pants.

“Gikwang!” Dongwoon pulls hard, hissing in pain as the shackles suddenly become tighter. “Gikwang! Where are you? Are you here?”

He yells, body jerking as the shackles on his ankles tighten. As he continuously attempts to break free, a feeling of terror slowly pools in the center of his chest. Dongwoon struggles to catch his breath. The thought that he could be alone in this place forever, by himself, catches up to him quickly. No matter how much he may try to escape from this place, it won’t do him any good if he continues to get beaten up by the shackles chaining him.

Just then, Dongwoon hears a buzzer and the sound of a door being opened. Muffled voices reach his ears, along with heavy footsteps that seem to be getting closer and closer. Focusing all of his attention on the iron bars, Dongwoon waits. He can make out silhouettes of two people outside the cell. Before he has the chance to do anything, bright light impairs his vision. Squinting, he tries to move his face away from the light but he can’t seem to escape it.

Just as he starts to get used to it, his world is consumed by darkness once more as a bag is shoved onto his head.

“What the-”

“If you want to get through the next ten minutes, kid, you’re going to shut up.”

He feels hands grab his arms roughly, fingers digging into the thin cotton of his shirt.

“If you try to escape while we move you-” Dongwoon hears a click as the shackles are unlocked - “we’ll leave you here for a bit longer-” the feeling of relief rushes through him as his arms drop to his side - “and you won’t get to play the game, and there’s no fun when you can’t play the game.”

As soon as the shackles around his ankles are unlocked, Dongwoon tries to stand up. He hears someone cluck their tongue in disapproval, and then a strong hand pushes him back down onto his knees.

“We didn’t say you could stand up, kid,” the faceless man says as he squeezes Dongwoon’s thin shoulders.

“Where’s Gi-”

“What did we say about talking, kid?”

Dongwoon grinds his teeth together, clenching his fists. There has to be a way for him to escape from these two. If the fucking bag weren’t on his head he could just escape and find Gikwang!

“I know what you’re thinking,” the faceless man whispers, and Dongwoon jerks away when he feels hot breath linger by his ear, “and it’s useless. Get up.”

A strong hand grips his upper arm, and pulls him to his feet. Dongwoon’s knees crack as he stands up. The faceless man holds him steady, leading him to what he assumes is the door of the cell.

“Let me give you one piece of advice, kid,” the man says, “and I’m not just saying this to be nice.”

Dongwoon is quiet, letting the chains scraping across the cement floor do the talking as they walk. The faceless man holds onto his elbow, steering him to the left after the buzzer sounds.

“Play the game,” he says, “and win.”

The faceless man’s companion makes a discernible noise, but he laughs in response. “My friend here thinks I shouldn’t be telling you these things, kid, but as you can tell I don’t care. It’s not like I’m telling you how to win.”

They take another left, and the man’s grip on his elbow loosens. Dongwoon stops walking when he feels an arm snake around his shoulders. He holds his breath, flinching away because he can sense how close the faceless man is. “Listen kid, if you win you can escape. Isn’t that what you want?”

Dongwoon’s fists clench, his nails digging into his palms. Of course he wants that, but what he wants most is to find Gikwang. Finding Gikwang, making sure that he’s safe is at the top of Dongwoon’s priorities; there is absolutely no way that he’d leave without Gikwang. The faceless man chuckles, wrapping his fingers around one of Dongwoon’s hands.

“Good,” he whispers, and he’s still so close that Dongwoon is sure that if the faceless man were to let go of his shoulders, Dongwoon would fall flat on his ass. “You’re angry, kid, that’s going to help you win.” And escape. The faceless man doesn’t say it, but Dongwoon hears it.

Dongwoon pulls his hand away and stumbles backwards. He would have fallen, if not for the faceless man’s companion steadying him from behind. The faceless man laughs again; the sound gives Dongwoon goose bumps. His companion tugs on Dongwoon’s arm, leading him forward.

Before the wind had taken over their apartment, the words Game. Start. had flashed on the computer screen. Dongwoon is sure that the game the faceless man keeps talking about is the very same one as on his computer.

“We’re here.”

Dongwoon stops walking as the faceless man grabs his wrists. He hears the soft click of the lock, and the snap of the shackles being taken off his wrists and ankles. The bag over his head is taken off, but instead of being given time to bask in his limited freedom, he’s thrown into a different cell. The door closes before he has a chance to react.

“We’ll be back for you, kid.”

The faceless man leaves before Dongwoon can get a chance to look at him. Groaning, Dongwoon tries to make out his surroundings as he pulls himself up from the ground.

“Dongwoon?”

His head snaps in the direction of the voice. Dongwoon knows this voice, he’s heard it so many times, and this time feels like the first after so long.

“Gikwang?”

Arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers digging into the scratchy cotton of his jumpsuit. Dongwoon reaches up, clinging to the only familiar thing in such an unfamiliar place.

“I was so scared when I thought you weren’t here,” Gikwang is saying, but Dongwoon is hardly listening to the words, only taking comfort in the sound of Gikwang’s voice. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, asshole, because you just had to hack into that stupid window, and now we’re stuck here.”

Dongwoon stays silent, breathing deeply because reality’s finally hit him. They’re stuck in this hellhole because of him, because he’d hacked into the government’s server, because the window he’d hacked into had sucked them into a prison of some sort. They might not be able to escape, they could potentially be stuck here forever, and he’s the one to blame for it. Dongwoon is supposed to be the brains of the duo, but he fucked up. Before he knows it, he’s crying. This wouldn’t have happened if he weren’t so bent on trying to find his father.

“Stupid,” Gikwang mumbles, pulling him closer, “you’re so stupid.”

“God, this is like a scene from some horrible romance movie.”

Dongwoon jerks up at the sound of a voice, and turns his head to find the source.

“Don’t be so mean, let them catch up.”

Dongwoon sits up, realising that he and Gikwang are not alone. Wiping the tears from his face, he tries to make out the other people in the room, despite the darkness.

“Hey kid, your friend was telling us how you hacked into the government’s server.”

“Gikwang, you told them-”

“Most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard, to be honest.”

“You wouldn’t underst-”

“It doesn’t matter why you did it,” the person interrupts, “it’s still fucking stupid.”

Dongwoon grinds his teeth, fists clenching around Gikwang’s jumper. “Don’t talk about things that you know nothing about.”

“Don’t mind him,” the other person tells Dongwoon, “he’s just in a bad mood because he lost a life today.”

“Fuck off.”

Dongwoon hears quiet footsteps that come to a stop directly in front of him. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his face.

“Oops, sorry about that, I was hoping that wasn’t your face.”

“It’s all right,” Dongwoon replies, reaching out for the hand awkwardly.

“I’m Yoseob,” he says, shaking Dongwoon’s hand. “The one over there is Junhyung.”

“Dongwoon.”

“I know,” Yoseob says, and Dongwoon can tell he’s smiling. “Gikwang couldn’t stop talking about you before you got here.”

Dongwoon tilts his head slightly towards Gikwang, who sputters at Yoseob’s comment. “I was worried!”

Yoseob chuckles softly, but doesn’t say anything more.

“Where are we?” Dongwoon asks, turning back to where he’s sure Yoseob is. “Why is it so dark?”

“The Underworld,” Junhyung answers promptly. “That’s why it’s so dark.”

“As in, Hell?”

Yoseob pats his hand, saying, “No, but it might as well be.”

“I don’t follow.”

“We’re in prison, Dongwoon.”

Before he can ask Yoseob to explain, he hears the buzzer go off again, and the sound of the cell door opening and closing. There’s the unmistakable outline of two people sliding down the wall of the cell to sit on the floor.

“Did you two win your games?” Junhyung asks.

“Yes,” they answer at the same time.

Yoseob laughs when Junhyung makes a disgruntled noise. “Looks like you’re the only loser today.”

“Fuck off.”

“No wonder you’re so grumpy,” one of the new guys says.

“Didn’t you fight the Swordsman?” the other one asks.

“He did,” Yoseob answers, laughing harder this time.

“Dude, how could you lose to the fucking Swordsman? He only has two moves!”

“Shut up, Doojoon! You didn’t fight him!”

“I did yesterday, and I won.”

“He was different today,” Junhyung says, his voice soft, and for some reason Dongwoon feels sorry for him. “You didn’t see how he was today. I thought I was going to die.”

“You will if you continue to lose,” the other guy says.

“Fuck you, Hyunseung.”

“Yoseob, would you mind explaining who the new person is?”

“Oh, right, I completely forgot!” Yoseob exclaims. “Should I turn on the light?”

“So you’ll put the light on for them but not for me?”

“I don’t put the light on for people who throw fits after a fight.”

“It was the fucking Swordsman!”

Dongwoon blinks in surprise when orange and yellow flames appear on the cement ground out of nowhere.

The two guys closest to the fire are, Dongwoon assumes, Hyunseung and Doojoon. They’re both wearing black jumpsuits; one of them has the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and the first two buttons of the suit unbuttoned.

“Yo,” the one with the rolled-up sleeves says, “I’m Doojoon.”

“Hyunseung.”

“I’m Dongwoon,” he says with a slight bow of his head.

Gikwang turns to look past Dongwoon, and then raises his eyebrows. “You look horrible.”

Dongwoon hears a bitter laugh. He turns to look and finds himself staring at a person whom he assumes Junhyung. The pant legs on his jumpsuit are rolled up to a bit above his ankles, and there’s a long cut across his left cheek, with a trail of dried up blood down his neck. He’s sitting, leaning back against the wall, a card in his hand. Junhyung smirks at Dongwoon, flipping the card over to reveal the Joker.

“The Swordsman did that?” Dongwoon asks, despite himself.

Junhyung’s smirk disappears, face setting into a scowl. “Fucking bastard.”

“Aren’t you going to clean it up?” Dongwoon looks concerned, pursing his lips when Junhyung shakes his head.

“You’re not allowed to heal or clean any injuries that you get if you lose a game,” Yoseob says, smiling sadly as he lets go of Dongwoon’s hand. “That’s your punishment for losing.”

“They’ll heal you before your next game so that you can fight on the same level as your opponent. If you lose two times in a row, they won’t heal you until you win.”

“I don’t understand.” Dongwoon is confused; he’s trying so hard to keep up with the conversation, but everything keeps flying over his head. They keep talking about the game, and he doesn’t get any of it.

“Maybe you should explain shit to the kid first.” Junhyung moves from his spot on the far wall, and sits next to Gikwang, who’s beside the fire. He puts a hand over the flames, eyes narrowing. “He’s been here for a week and he still knows shit all.”

“I’m not a kid,” Dongwoon hisses.

Junhyung looks at him sharply. “Until you prove yourself otherwise, you’re a kid. Only a kid would think that hacking into the government server would find his father-of all fucking things!”

“Don’t talk like you know-”

“That’s enough!” Doojoon shouts, and Dongwoon flinches, feeling like a five-year-old who’s just been scolded. “Junhyung, you’re not helping the situation-”

“Wait,” Dongwoon interrupts Doojoon, who pins him a look on him that clearly says he’s not impressed, “I’ve been here for a week?”

Dongwoon looks at Gikwang who shrugs his shoulders with a helpless expression on his face. “We were in the same cell at first. I was awake before you, so they moved me here.”

“But a week!”

“Out of everyone here, Dongwoon, you’re the only one to have been passed out for such a long time.” Yoseob is smiling again, but it’s strained, and he looks at Dongwoon with sympathetic eyes that make Dongwoon’s stomach churn.

“It happens to the best of us.” Doojoon’s voice is comforting, but Dongwoon still feels panicked.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on? Where is this place? What is the game?”

“This place is the Underworld,” Hyunseung replies, his voice soft but firm. “It’s the government’s secret prison.”

“Is this what they were trying to hide?”

“Yes and no,” Doojoon responds, running a hand down his face, sighing. “The Underworld is in an alternate dimension, and the only people that has access to this world are criminals or should I say, people who the government believe are criminals. The Underworld is a prison that houses all sorts of criminals, ranging from petty thieves to murderers.”

“It’s not an ordinary prison, though,” Yoseob says, taking over. “Everyone is given a chance to fight for their freedom, by playing the game and winning.”

“What the hell is this game?” Dongwoon is so frustrated. They keep talking about the game and winning the game to get out of this place. The only thing they keep forgetting to do is explain it!

“If you keep interrupting, Dongwoon, I’m never going to get to that part.” Yoseob crosses his arms over his chest, scowling. “Let us explain everything first and then you can ask questions, all right?”

Dongwoon nods, and Yoseob uncrosses his arms. “Where was I? Oh, the game. Okay, so, when you play the game and win, you can leave the Underworld, but it’s not that easy. To win the game you have to have a hundred lives won and intact. Every time you lose, you lose a life. Every time you get injured, you lose half a life. If you lose two times in a row, you lose five lives, three times in a row, ten lives, four times in a row and they’ll kill you.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, a hand reaching over to grab his own. He realises belatedly that it’s Gikwang, who’s breathing hard.

“Everyone starts off the game with fifty lives,” Yoseob continues, snapping his fingers at the dimming fire. Dongwoon watches in awe, as the flames get bigger, spreading out throughout the entire room. “By the end of your first fight, the most lives anyone has ever had left are five.”

“Everyone walks into their first fight knowing nothing about their fighting style,” Hyunseung starts where Yoseob left off. “That’s why you lose almost all your lives by the end of the fight. If an experienced fighter holds back on a newcomer they’ll take away the fighter’s lives, so even if you feel bad for the poor sucker you can’t do anything unless you want to die.”

“The game isn’t about winning to be free.” Junhyung tears his eyes away from the fire to look at Dongwoon. “It’s about staying alive.”

“Has anyone ever managed to get free?” Gikwang asks.

“No,” Doojoon answers, voice hard and thick; Dongwoon gets the feeling that he’s lying, but stays silent. Clearing his throat, he says, “People have died trying to leave this damn hell hole.”

Dongwoon is leaning against the wall, staring at the fire in the middle of the prison cell. He’d learned afterwards that Yoseob is a fire breather, which is why they’re the only cell in the entire prison with light. The rest of the prisoners live in darkness, only seeing light when they’re out in the ring. Junhyung had suggested that everyone go to sleep, as they all had fights the next day.

He’s scared. Dongwoon doesn’t know how he’s going to fight tomorrow, but everyone had assured him that he’d be fine. He doesn’t think that he’s going to be fine at all. What if he has no lives left at the end of the fight? Will they kill him? More than anything, Dongwoon wants to stay alive. What Junhyung had said earlier about staying alive being more important than being free rings in his ears. He’d been surprised to find out that Gikwang had already had his first fight.

“I guess working out at the gym all those years came in handy,” is what Gikwang had said, after telling Dongwoon he’d been dubbed the Strongman.

However, Gikwang refused to tell him how many lives he still has left after the fight. This is another rule of the game: how many lives you have is a secret. Dongwoon understands, no matter how curious he is. Sighing, he looks down at Gikwang, who is currently using Dongwoon’s legs as a makeshift pillow. The light from the flames shines softly on Gikwang’s face, reminding Dongwoon how carefree Gikwang used to be. If he hadn’t dragged his best friend into this mess with the government, he would have led a normal life back home.

“He really cares about you.” Doojoon, who had been sitting at the wall across from him the last time he checked, is now at his side. “The whole week all he kept talking about was you. Kind of got sick of hearing about you after the first hour, to be honest.”

Dongwoon quirks his lips slightly, eyes falling back onto Gikwang. “We’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember.”

“So I’ve heard,” Doojoon replies, stretching his legs out in front of him, sneakers almost touching the fire. “You guys have been through a lot, you in particular.”

Dongwoon frowns. “What’d he say?”

“He had a lot to say.”

Dongwoon laughs, but even to his own ears it sounds strained. Things didn’t change, it seemed. He was always Gikwang’s favourite topic of discussion. He’d been embarrassed when he’d first realised just how much Gikwang could talk about him.

“He says you saved his life.” Doojoon’s lips curve in the light from the flames, and Dongwoon is left slightly breathless. Earlier, he’d barely noticed Doojoon’s presence in favour of Yoseob or Junhyung, but now, he feels himself basking in Doojoon’s attention. He doesn’t know what it is about Doojoon, but he’s being reeled in slowly, leaning in to hang onto every word that Doojoon has to say.

If Doojoon notices he makes no comment. “Apparently, you stopped the police from taking him in.”

And, just like that, the spell that Doojoon had on Dongwoon is gone as he remembers that night. Gikwang had always had sticky fingers; it had only become worse after they’d left high school. Gikwang found himself unable to hold a steady part-time job, so he’d taken to the streets instead, taking on odd jobs from equally odd people. He’d never told Dongwoon what the jobs were, and Dongwoon isn’t so sure he wants to know. All he knows is that these odd people had paid well, so well that Gikwang had never wanted to get a normal job because the pay had sucked in comparison.

One night, the police had come after Gikwang. He couldn’t risk going back home, already in deep with his parents, so he had run to Dongwoon’s apartment. Dongwoon had hidden Gikwang in the cellar for four nights and five days until the search for him had been called off. Gikwang had never told Dongwoon why he’d been running and Dongwoon had never asked.

“It was nothing,” Dongwoon says, and the fire crackles in response.

“He doesn’t see it as nothing.”

Dongwoon shrugs, turning his head to look at Doojoon. Doojoon’s dark hair covers most of his profile, but it doesn’t hide the white scar that runs up the length of his neck. Dongwoon wants to ask how he got it, but knows he shouldn’t. No matter how curious he is, prying into other people’s lives without their permission is extremely rude.

“I started hacking into the government’s server about six months ago,” Dongwoon says. He’s not sure why he’s telling Doojoon anything, but there’s something about him that makes Dongwoon feel safe. “I wanted to find my father so badly that it was the only thing I could think of. He disappeared right before the government started fucking up, and all I have-had-” Dongwoon corrects himself, bitterly realising that he no longer even has it-“left of him is a letter he wrote to me.”

Though, if Dongwoon is being honest, the letter his father had left behind was technically not a letter. It was only one sentence: Choose your third world carefully. Dongwoon still doesn’t know what it’s supposed to mean.

“And then the officials kept coming by the apartment, asking where he was and what he’d been doing before he disappeared. They searched the whole fucking place but they still didn’t find whatever it was they were looking for. After about the fifth time they searched the apartment, Gikwang and I left.” Closing his eyes, Dongwoon runs his fingers through Gikwang’s soft hair. “Gikwang became more paranoid after every visit, since it was just after he’d almost been caught by the cops. And I ... I wanted to find my father without the government’s help. We found this run down basement suite that was abandoned and had no windows, just a bed and a botched up computer. When we moved in, it was the first time we’d ever felt at home.

“I need to find my father. I need to know why he left so suddenly. It was just the two of us. My mom died when I was little, I can’t even remember what she looked like.” Dongwoon pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I know my father. He just wouldn’t walk out on me without a reason. That’s why I have to find him.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, kid,” Doojoon says, leaning his head back against the wall.

“I feel like I have to,” Dongwoon replies with a shake of his head. “Junhyung keeps saying that hacking into the government’s server is something that a kid would do, but … he doesn’t-”

“Don’t listen to Junhyung,” Doojoon interrupts. He puts his hand is on Dongwoon’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before dropping it to his lap. “He’s programmed to act like a little shit.”

“I’m still awake, you know.” Junhyung’s voice filters into the conversation, and Dongwoon doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s scowling. “Stop talking shit, Doojoon.”

“It’s not shit-talking if it’s the truth,” Doojoon retorts.

Junhyung scoffs. “Fuck off, just go to bed, both of you.”

Dongwoon shakes his head, watching as Junhyung turns his back on the fire to face the wall.

“I used to be a journalist,” Doojoon says softly. “I got a lot of free reign with the newspaper, but then I started poking around in places that I shouldn’t have been, especially with the government the way that it is. No one else wanted to report about their fuckery, so I thought, why not?”

“I followed a lead about a professor who disappeared to the Entertainment District,” Doojoon continues, and Dongwoon looks up at him sharply. “When I got to the place, I was knocked out cold. The next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

“The professor,” Dongwoon starts, feeling his throat beginning to close up, “was his name-”

“Yes,” is Doojoon answer. “Whatever you thought about your father and the government being connected is true, Dongwoon.”

“I knew it,” Dongwoon whispers, burying his face in his hands. “I fucking knew it.”

“I don’t know what kind of situations your father was involved in,” Doojoon says. “I can’t tell you what was going on at the time, either. Your father was a source of mine, and to have him disappear…” Doojoon trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You should get some sleep, kid.” Doojoon stretches. “It’s your first fight tomorrow, you’re going to need all the energy you can get.”

Dongwoon wakes up to the sound of a buzzer. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he notices that the fire is gone. The cell is once again consumed by darkness, but he no longer feels uneasy about it. He places a hand in his lap, frowning slightly when his fingers come into contact with Gikwang’s hair.

“Gikwang,” he whispers, bending down to what he hopes is Gikwang’s ear, “you need to wake up. They’re coming.”

Gikwang groans and turns over, but doesn’t move to get up.

“Seriously, Gikwang now’s not the time for an extra lie in!”

“Wake him up now!” Hyunseung exclaims. “They’re almost here and if he’s still sleeping, he’ll lose a life and they’ll beat the shit out of him.”

“Gikwang!” Dongwoon pushes Gikwang off his leg.

“All right, all right,” Gikwang yawns, “I’m up.”

“You’re a heavier sleeper than Junhyung,” Yoseob remarks, laughing when Junhyung spits curses at him.

“Quiet,” Doojoon says forcefully. Once again, Dongwoon finds himself compelled to give into Doojoon, to bask in any kind of attention he receives. “They’re here.”

The cell door opens with a loud clang and Dongwoon hears footsteps but he can’t see anyone. He knows they’re there, though. More importantly, he knows that the faceless man is in the room. Dongwoon can practically feel him breathing the same air.

“Good morning, everyone.” Dongwoon shivers; he was right. “Stand up, you know the drill by now. Single file, all of you.”

“Follow me,” Yoseob whispers, sliding his body in front of Dongwoon’s with ease.

Dongwoon isn’t sure how he’s supposed to follow Yoseob if he can’t even see him, but the faceless man has no complaints. He hums in, what Dongwoon assumes is, satisfaction. Hearing footsteps approach, Dongwoon holds his breath. Yesterday’s events hit him full force, as he remembers the fire in the man’s touch. Just like yesterday, an arm slings around his shoulders, pulling him close and a step out of the line.

“Hey, kid,” the faceless man says, his breath hot and sticking to Dongwoon’s neck. “How’d you fare last night, hm? Tell me, did they treat you okay?”

“You’re scaring him,” a voice says, and Dongwoon wonders if it’s the faceless man’s companion from yesterday.

The man chuckles, and the hairs on the back of Dongwoon’s neck stand on end. “Am I scaring you, kid?”

Dongwoon shakes his head in response.

“Good,” he says, his lips so close to Dongwoon’s ear. “I’m not the one you should be scared of.”

He pushes Dongwoon back into the line and Yoseob passes him something, whispering for him to pass the rest down. His fingers caress the outline of the fabric that Yoseob passed him.

“C’mon, kid, we don’t have all day,” the man says. “Put the damn mask on!”

Frowning, Dongwoon puts it on after fumbling quite a bit. He hadn’t known it was a mask.

“Everyone has it on, right?” The faceless man’s question is met with silence, but he hums in satisfaction once again and instructs them to move out.

Dongwoon is sitting in a holding cell by himself. He’s surprised that this one actually has light, even if the light bulb is on the dim side. After being taken from the cell, they’d all been taken to the nurse, who hadn’t healed Junhyung’s cut or even cleaned it. She had only washed off the dried blood on his face and neck, and then kicked him out of the room. The nurse had taken one look at the others and promptly kicked them out, as well, only keeping Dongwoon. She had patched up the wounds on his wrists and ankles, and when she was done, she’d taken a blood sample and then told him to leave.

Dongwoon eyes the TV screen as he leans back in the chair. When he’d entered the room, the guard had informed him to keep an eye on the TV screen placed in the corner. After staring at the TV for what seems like eternity, Dongwoon closes his eyes. This is the first time in what feels like forever that he’s been this comfortable. Leaning into the chair, he thinks that taking a nap should be okay.

The room explodes with a loud pop. Dongwoon opens his eyes quickly, scanning the room for any potential danger. He notices that the TV is on now. There’s music playing from the machine and then words written in yellow script flash on the screen.

THE UNDERWORLD GAME OF BEASTS: ROUND ONE

The words disappear just as soon as a pink cartoon rabbit holding a microphone pops up on the screen.

“Round one starts in ten minutes, folks!” the pink rabbit chirps into the microphone. “Our first round today consists of the crowd’s favourite: the Ring Master and the new kid!”

There’s a loud bang and the rabbit jumps and the screen changes from blue to circus scenery. “Round one is starting in ten minutes!” The screen turns black.

Dongwoon is still staring at it, expecting the pink rabbit to come back. Except it doesn’t. He feels his chest start to constrict, and his hands start to shake. He’s up first. He knows that he’s the new kid, there can’t be anyone else, and those who already fought before have special nicknames. Wiping his palms on his jumpsuit, Dongwoon tries to steady his breathing.

Freaking out is not going to do him any good in this situation. He needs to remain calm, because if he doesn’t, everything in his head is going to end up muddled and that will only get him killed. Breathe, he tells himself, just breathe.

The door to the holding cell opens and the guard from before is standing there. “Let’s go, kid, you’re up first.”

Standing up, Dongwoon wills himself to get it together. The guard has his gun out, and he places it in the center of Dongwoon’s back as they move to the arena where the fight is going to take place.

“Kid, if you make it out alive today it’s going to a miracle.”

“Why?” Dongwoon asks, wincing as the gun is pressed more firmly into his back.

“The Ring Master is the strongest player in the game,” the guard replies. “He’s one of the favourites. He and the Fire Breather.”

Fire Breather. Dongwoon shouldn’t be surprised that Yoseob is one of the stronger players in the game, especially after last night but he is. As long as he doesn’t have to face any of his cellmates, Dongwoon knows he should be okay. Except, the guard had said that the Ring Master is the strongest player. What if … what if the Ring Master kills him? The guard had said he’d be lucky if he made it out alive.

Shuddering, Dongwoon tries to clear those thoughts from his mind. Winning isn’t important, he decides. He needs to focus on staying alive and keeping as many lives as he can. Once they get to the arena, Dongwoon’s world flips over for what seems like the hundredth time. They’re in a tent, and there’s a ring in the middle of it, with a fence that circles around the ring, rising upwards. Instead of a human audience, however there are life-sized playing cards on the benches. They’re chattering amongst themselves, and everything feels so surreal to Dongwoon.

“It’s a bit freaky the first time you see them,” the guard says from behind him, removing the gun. “You get used to it.”

Dongwoon doesn’t say anything. He’s beginning to get nauseous; the little bit of food the nurse fed him earlier is slowly making its way back up his throat.

“Kid, if you’re going to have a fit right now, I’m going to shoot you,” the guard says calmly, gun still in hand. “Get your shit together.”

Trying to get a hold of himself, Dongwoon steadies his breathing. He bends over, gripping the sides of his thighs. I can do this, he thinks, I can do this. The only thing he has to do is stay alive.

The sound of a drum roll brings Dongwoon out of his thoughts. The guard grabs his arm, dragging him over to the ring. There, the pink rabbit appears as a life-sized card, and is being lowered into the center of the arena. Dongwoon stares up at it with a mixture of awe and horror.

“Everyone, please take your seats,” the pink rabbit announces. “The fight is starting!”

“Kid,” the guard says, tugging on Dongwoon’s arm, “good luck.”

Dongwoon nods numbly, and takes a step into the ring.

“In this corner, we have the newcomer, still with no name!” The pink rabbit card turns to him for a moment, and then turns back to the audience. “And in this corner, we have the magnificent Ring Master!”

Dongwoon watches in horror as Doojoon steps into the ring, grinning and waving at the card audience, who’ve burst into cheers. Doojoon pauses, turning to look at Dongwoon. He isn’t wearing the black jumpsuit anymore, but a completely different outfit; he has a red tailcoat on, along with a black bow tie and white breeches, followed by brown boots that go past his shins. There’s a black top hat in one hand, and a walking cane in the other.

Doojoon smirks, bowing with a wave of his hand, and puts the top hat on.

“The fight starts on the count of three!”

Dongwoon notices that the Doojoon standing in front of him is different from the one he’d met in the cell. This Doojoon has completely embraced his character of the Ring Master, and Dongwoon is terrified. And then he remembers Hyunseung’s words from last night: if an experienced fighter goes easy on a newcomer, the fighter will lose his lives.

“One!” The pink rabbit card is being slowly lifted out of the arena and into the audience stands. “Two! Three! Start!”

The only thing Dongwoon can think of to do is wait for Doojoon to attack. However, he’s surprised when Doojoon doesn’t.

“Kid,” Doojoon says, walking forward, swinging his walking cane back and forth, “why don’t you move?”

Dongwoon is about to reply when his body moves of its own accord. He tries to fight it, but his legs start to walk towards Doojoon. He stares at Doojoon, who only grins. The audience is yelling, cheering for Doojoon to win, to kill Dongwoon.

“No, no,” Doojoon says, once Dongwoon is standing directly in front of him, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Dooj-”

“It’s Ring Master,” Doojoon snarls, digging his cane into Dongwoon’s stomach.

Tears begin to well up in Dongwoon’s eyes. This can’t be Doojoon. The Doojoon he had talked to last night hadn’t struck him as a violent person. Doojoon had been the first person to actually believe that his father’s disappearance had to do with the government sinking to oblivion. In fact, Doojoon had even said his father had been a source for information about the government-

“Pay attention, kid.” Doojoon’s eyes narrow, as he brings his cane up, slashing it forward to hit Dongwoon across the face. Dongwoon falls to the floor. “You’re boring me. I want you to fight back.”

Dongwoon has lost all will to fight. He doesn’t want to fight against Doojoon, except his body isn’t listening to what he wants. His body is getting up, and before he knows it he’s throwing punches at Doojoon, who dodges them with ease. He wills himself to stop fighting Doojoon, but he can’t. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Every time Doojoon tells him to do something, his body-Doojoon moves forward, hooking his cane under Dongwoon’s chin. He pushes him backward and presses Dongwoon into the fence.

“I said fight,” Doojoon whispers in his ear before jumping back to the center of the ring. “Come!”

Dongwoon is still trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t want to move, but his body does so anyway. And then he finally understands Doojoon’s power: Doojoon can compel anyone to do anything he wants. It all makes sense; whenever Doojoon had spoken, everyone had listened. Whenever Doojoon had so much as breathed in Dongwoon’s direction, Dongwoon had simply revelled in the attention. And just now, when Doojoon had told him to move, to fight-had he said those things to help Dongwoon?

“What’s wrong, kid? Feeling tired?” Doojoon sneers as Dongwoon walks forward.

Dongwoon wants to yell, wants to tell Doojoon to stop because he doesn’t like this side of him. He desperately wants to beg Doojoon to show him that he cares, to show him that he’s helping him, to just do something! He wants Doojoon to stop acting like the Ring Master and to start acting like Doojoon.

“You’ve done nothing so far,” Doojoon drawls, walking around Dongwoon, tapping the end of his cane against his palm. “I want you to fight with all the energy you have left!”

Dongwoon screams in pain when he feels Doojoon’s cane hit his spine. He drops to his knees, ears ringing as the crowd starts howling. How can he fight? He doesn’t have any kind of power to use to fight against Doojoon. But his body is disobeying him again, and he’s back on his feet.

“Fight.”

Fight? He doesn’t know how! Doojoon keeps telling him to fight, and Dongwoon knows he has to but, how? How can he fight against Doojoon who only needs to say one thing to kill him? Dongwoon clenches his fists, ducking his head because the tears are starting to fall. Use all the energy he has left to fight? He has no energy left. The only thing left is his anger and desperation and helplessness. Where’s the energy in all of that?

“Did you hear me? I said fight!”

Something snaps inside of Dongwoon. “What if I don’t want to?” he yells, placing his palms in front of him, just in case Doojoon attacks him. However, he’s surprised when he feels his palms burn up, and then-boom! Looking up, he sees smoke and rubble around the area where Doojoon had been standing.

What had just happened?

“That was close.”

He looks to his left to see Doojoon standing there, frowning as he takes the top hat off. The top hat has been burnt; the only thing left of the hat is the brim.

“Did I just-was that-wow.”

Doojoon raises an eyebrow, throwing what’s left of his hat to the ground. He smirks at Dongwoon. “Now, this is starting to get interesting.”

“Do that again, kid,” Doojoon shouts, running forward.

Dongwoon looks down at his hands. They’re still hot and pulsing. Closing his eyes, he focuses all his energy into his palms. He opens his eyes back up to see Doojoon up in the air, ready to strike him down. All he has to do is fight back, right?

He throws the hot energy in his hands at Doojoon, who barely has enough time to dodge the attack, but still emerges from the explosion unscathed.

“That was good, kid,” Doojoon says, standing atop one of the fence poles. He jumps down and Dongwoon barely has time to register anything before Doojoon is standing in front of him again. “But I’m better.”

He shoves the cane against Dongwoon’s neck, jumping away when Dongwoon brings a hand up to his neck in response. Dongwoon is coughing, but he tries to regulate his breathing quickly. He’d been lucky enough that Doojoon hadn’t expected him to burn his neck.

Doojoon is touching his neck at the other end of the ring, frowning. He looks at Dongwoon, then waves his cane in a circle. “Sorry, kid, but it ends here.”

Dongwoon is stunned as a lion appears out of the circle that Doojoon creates. “Devour.”

The last thing Dongwoon sees is the lion running at him, dodging every energy ball that Dongwoon throws.

He wakes up in the nurse’s office.

“You can leave now.”

The nurse is standing at the door, her lips pursed in a straight line. “I don’t have all day!”

Dongwoon scowls, but gets off the bed. She hands him the eye mask, which she waits for him to put on before leading him to the door. Once she steers him out the room, he feels a gun dig into the center of his back, causing him to tense up.

“That fight you had with the Ring Master-” it’s the same guard from before, Dongwoon realises, and relaxes his shoulders- “it was really good, Cannonball. I didn’t think you could do it but man, that shit was cool.”

“What did you just call me?” Dongwoon asks, turning left when he feels the gun dig into the left side of his back.

“Cannonball,” the guard replies, chuckling. “Whatever you threw at the Ring Master was a ball of fire before it exploded. So, they decided to call you Cannonball.”

“Cannonball,” Dongwoon mutters, making a right.

“It’s better than ‘Kid,’ if you ask me.”

Dongwoon hums in agreement.

“We’re here.”

The cell door clangs, and Dongwoon steps inside, taking off the eye mask. He hands it back to the guard.

“See you tomorrow, Cannonball.”

The door clangs shut.

“Cannonball, eh?”

Fire appears in the center of the cell. Yoseob is sitting on the other side, Hyunseung and Doojoon next to him.

“Doojoon.” Dongwoon immediately hurries over to him. “How’s your neck? Are you okay? I’m so sorry about-”

“Your energy cannonballs are awesome!” Yoseob interrupts, eyes wide with awe.

“You don’t need to apologise, Dongwoon.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You were great!” Yoseob exclaims.

“Yoseob, stop.” Doojoon looks at Yoseob, who quickly settles back down beside him.

“Your power…”

“I’m glad you figured it out,” Doojoon says softly, “I could’ve hurt you badly.”

“But you didn’t!” Dongwoon protests.

“That’s only because your power manifested just in time,” Hyunseung explains. “If it hadn’t, Doojoon could’ve killed you.”

“But he wouldn’t-you wouldn’t…would you?”

“I could’ve hurt you badly,” Doojoon repeats, scowling.

“He was going easy on you in the beginning,” Hyunseung says harshly, glaring at Dongwoon. “If Doojoon had continued to fight you the way he was, the higher-ups would’ve gotten suspicious.”

“But he-”

“Don’t you get it, kid?” Hyunseung snaps. “If it had been anyone other than Doojoon fighting you, you’d be half-dead! The rest of us-our powers aren’t like Doojoon’s, they’re like yours. The first attack’s only aim is to kill. Doojoon’s power manipulates his opponent and the audience at the same time. He can work the crowd up to the climax, which is why he could go easy on you.”

“But-”

“You didn’t get hurt until the three minute mark, kid. With anyone else, it’d have been a different story.”

“You’re being mean, Hyunseung,” Yoseob chides. Standing up, he grabs Dongwoon’s arm, pulling him to sit by his side.

“I …”

“I’m just saying,” Hyunseung huffs, crossing his arms across his chest, “that he could’ve gotten both himself and Doojoon killed.”

Dongwoon’s eyes widen. He looks at Doojoon, who’s glaring at Hyunseung, who is, in turn, looking directly at Dongwoon with cold eyes. “You should be thankful to Doojoon for saving your life.”

“Hyunseung!” Yoseob shouts. The fire in the center of the cell gets bigger as Yoseob scolds Hyunseung. “Stop being such a jerk. You weren’t so great yourself when you first got here.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yoseob, calm down,” Doojoon says, placing a hand on Yoseob’s thigh. Yoseob closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them again.

“Sorry.”

“Doojoon,” Dongwoon speaks up, “I … I’m sorry about earlier. You didn’t have to put your life on the line for me, if … if it’s really like how Hyunseung says.”

“Don’t listen to Hyunseung,” Doojoon says, smiling when Hyunseung scoffs. “I knew what I was doing.”

“Oh, so you were acting like an idiot on purpose?” Hyunseung sneers.

“Hyunseung.”

Hyunseung glares sullenly at Doojoon.

“I hope you learned a lesson with the fight,” Doojoon says, removing his hand from Yoseob’s thigh. Dongwoon notices that the fire is back at its normal shape.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good.” Doojoon motions with his hand for Yoseob to dim the fire. “There’s someone coming.”

The door clangs open and shuts just as quickly. The fire comes back to life, and Dongwoon gasps when he sees Gikwang trying to steady a battered up Junhyung.

“What happened?” Yoseob is the first to reach the pair. They settle Junhyung into the corner of the cell, the fire growing and burning brighter.

“He lost to the Contortionist,” Gikwang answers, looking helplessly at the rest of them. “He couldn’t get one trick in.”

“The Contortionist got her revenge then,” Hyunseung mutters, sitting down beside Junhyung.

“Junhyung beat the Contortionist two weeks ago,” Doojoon explains, kneeling in front of Junhyung. “He almost killed her.”

“Will he be all right?” Dongwoon asks, standing awkwardly to the side.

“I-I’m not a wri-i-te of-fff, kid,” Junhyung stutters, coughing.

“Shut up, you idiot,” Yoseob scolds. “You shouldn’t be talking.”

“Yoseob’s right, Junhyung,” Doojoon says, putting a hand over Junhyung’s forehead before standing up. “Just sleep for now.”

Junhyung doesn’t protest. Yoseob mutters curses under his breath; Dongwoon assumes he learned them from Junhyung.

“Yoseob,” Hyunseung starts, but stops talking when Yoseob shakes his head.

“I’m going to stay with him for tonight.”

“We’ll watch over him in shifts,” Gikwang suggests.

“No, it’s okay,” Yoseob refuses, “I can watch him the whole night.”

“Yoseob, you need to sleep too,” Doojoon says gently. “You can’t stay up and keep the fire burning at the same time without getting some kind of rest. You have a fight tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but wake us up if something happens.” Doojoon concedes.

Dongwoon jerks awake when he hears voices talking softly. Yoseob and Junhyung are arguing in the corner, their voices slowly getting louder.

“They think we can’t hear them,” Doojoon whispers beside him, “but we’re all listening. Except Gikwang, maybe.”

“What are they fighting about?”

“Everything,” Doojoon replies, as if that should serve as a sufficient answer, but it only confuses Dongwoon even more.

“Doojoon, is it always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Being hurt so badly like Junhyung.”

Doojoon doesn’t say anything. Dongwoon takes his silence as a yes. Sighing, Dongwoon wonders how his life turned out this way.

“Last night, when Gikwang asked if anyone has ever escaped from the Underworld-”

“You said no one has-”

“I lied,” Doojoon interrupts. “Someone has escaped from the Underworld before.”

Dongwoon’s breath catches in his throat. Someone’s escaped from the Underworld? The little flicker of hope that Dongwoon had previously had harboured to swell in his stomach.

“No one’s ever tried to get out after him, though,” Doojoon continues. “They tightened up security after but, if you want to escape, I still have the details of his plans.”

“What? Doojoon, what are you-”

“Listen to me, Dongwoon,” Doojoon snaps. “I knew the prisoner that escaped from the Underworld. I was his cellmate while he was planning his escape. I could’ve gone with him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Doojoon shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think it would work.”

“What makes you think it’ll work now?”

“I don’t,” Doojoon replies, scowling. “But I’ve been here way too long and I’m not even fucking close to a hundred lives. What do you say, Dongwoon? Do you want to help me put this plan into action?”

“But, why me? Why now? If you’ve had the plans all along why didn’t you try to escape a long time ago?”

“The plan only works with six people.”

Dongwoon takes a deep breath. He doesn’t care about the consequences. He’s seen what happens to those who can’t win in the Underworld, and he doesn’t want to experience it first hand. His goal has always been to escape, and now, Doojoon is giving him an opportunity to do so.

“Count me in,” Dongwoon replies.

Doojoon grins, offering Dongwoon his hand, and Dongwoon takes it, shaking on their agreement. He’ll kill anyone who gets in the way of this plan, Dongwoon decides. Getting a hundred lives is futile. Trying to break out of the Underworld is stupid. Dongwoon doesn’t care.

He’ll fight his way out.