Do-hee leaned against the cold steel railing of the balcony, a cigarette between her fingers, its ember glowing faintly in the night. Below her, the city lights shimmered like a thousand tiny stars, their brilliance dulled by the haze of pollution and her own exhaustion. The apartment was quiet, minus the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of car horns. It was the kind of silence she had craved. Before she left home, her house was always so loud and vibrant. Her siblings bickering with one another, her parents arguing and then making up minutes later, the entire thing was tiring for Do-hee. She didn't fit in with her family, and it's one of the many reasons as to why she left.

She exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up and disappearing into the air, much like her sense of normalcy had since she met Hwang In-ho. 

The first time she'd seen him, he'd been sitting in the corner of a dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. He had looked out of place—his sharp, tailored suit a stark contrast to the grimy atmosphere of the dive. There was something magnetic about him, something dangerous lurking beneath the calm exterior. She hadn't been able to resist him. 

Their relationship had started like most of her others—a whirlwind of passion and chaos. But In-ho was different. He wasn't like the fleeting lovers she'd left behind. He was steady, calculated, and, above all, intoxicatingly mysterious. She had fallen for him before she even realized it, and by the time she did, it was far too late to pull away.

"You shouldn't smoke so much," his voice broke through her thoughts, low and smooth as ever. 

Do-hee turned to see him standing in the doorway, his frame illuminated by the dim light from the hallway. "You shouldn't sneak up on people," she shot back, stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray. 

In-ho smirked faintly as he stepped onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. He was dressed casually tonight, a rare sight. Even so, he exuded the same commanding presence that had drawn her to him in the first place. 

"I've been thinking," he began, leaning against the railing beside her. His gaze was fixed on the city below, but she could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. 

"That can't be good," she said, her tone light but her curiosity peaked. Whenever In-ho started a conversation like this, it was never simple. They always left her intrigued, wanting to know more.

"You know I trust you a lot," he continued, ignoring her small banter. "More than anyone else, more than my own brother." 

Do-hee nodded. He wasn't wrong. Over the years, he had shared pieces of himself with her that no one else had seen. His past. His anger. His grief. And, eventually, the truth about his role in the Squid Game. It had been a shock at first, but Do-hee had stayed. For all his flaws—and there were many—she had loved him despite it all. 

"And your point is what exactly?" she asked, her voice steady despite the impatience building inside her. 

He turned to face her then, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I want you to be part of it. All of it." 

Do-hee smirked, her mind racing. "Part of what exactly?" She knew exactly what he meant, she just wanted to hear him say it himself, that's what really made her go wild.

"The next games," he said simply. 

She stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking, but there was none. In-ho never joked about things like this. In all honesty, the idea of the games intrigued Do-hee more than she'd care to admit, perhaps she was twisted in her own ways after all.

"You want me to... what? Watch people kill each other for the fun of it? Help you run this... this thing?" 

"Yes," he said, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather. 

She turned away, gripping the railing tightly. "Why me?" 

"Because I trust you," he said, stepping closer. "And because I need someone who sees things the way I do. Someone who understands that this world doesn't run on morality—it runs on power, survival, and control." 

"In-ho..." she began, but he cut her off. 

"You've always been drawn to the edge, Do-hee. To danger. To chaos. That's what brought you to me, isn't it?" 

She couldn't argue with him. There was a part of her, a dark, restless part, that craved the thrill of living on the brink. It was what had made her walk away from her family, her comfortable but suffocating life. It was what had made her fall for In-ho, despite the warning bells that had rung in her head from the moment she met him. 

But this? This was different. 

"This isn't just living on the edge, In-ho," she said finally, her voice low. "This is something more." 

"I know," he said softly. "But I also know you. And I think you'll do it." 

She turned to face him, her jaw set. "And if I say no?" She was only teasing, she loved to pretend like she was against the whole idea. Act as if she wasn't ready to fully jump in despite the consequences that may occur.

His expression didn't change, but there was something in his eyes—something cold and unyielding. "You won't." 

Do-hee stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. He was right, of course. She wouldn't say no. "Fine," she said finally, the word slipping off her tongue. "I'll do it." 

A small smile tugged at the corner of In-ho's lips. "I knew you would." 

As he turned and walked back inside, Do-hee  stood there, staring at the city lights, the weight of her decision sinking in. But as the initial wave of doubt began to ebb, something else started to creep in—a sense of excitement, raw and electric. The corners of her lips twitched upward into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. 

The truth was, she didn't feel disgusted by what In-ho had asked of her. No, deep down, the thought of being part of something so chaotic, so twisted, was exhilarating. And maybe that's why she'd fallen for him in the first place. Hwang In-ho wasn't like anyone else she'd ever met, and neither was she. 

Do-hee had always been a bit... unhinged. It wasn't something she flaunted or let people see, not openly. But the chaos, the danger, the way the world seemed to bend and shatter under pressure—she thrived on it. Most people found comfort in stability, but not her. She found it in the unpredictable, in the madness. 

When she thought about it, that's what had drawn her to In-ho from the start. He was the kind of man who wore his darkness like a second skin, unapologetic and fearless. Where others saw someone cold and calculating, she saw someone who understood the same itch that burned under her skin. The need for control. The hunger to dance along the edge of destruction. 

She stubbed out her cigarette and followed him inside. He was standing in the kitchen now, pouring two glasses of whiskey. 

"You don't waste time, do you?" she said, smirking as she slid onto the seat next to him. 

"You said yes," he replied simply, sliding a glass toward her. "Shouldn't we celebrate?" 

She took the glass, swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip. The warmth spread through her chest, chasing away the chill of the night air. 

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. 

In-ho studied her for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He always admired the way she adapted so quickly, how she never flinched when faced with the darker parts of the world—or himself. 

"First, I'll need you to disappear for a while," he said. "If you're going to be part of this, you can't have any ties left in the real world. No paper trail, no connections. Nothing." 

Do-hee raised an eyebrow. "Disappearing isn't exactly new for me." 

"I know," he said, his tone softening. "But this time, it has to be permanent. No coming back." 

She tilted her head, considering his words. There was a time when the idea of cutting herself off completely would have terrified her. But now? It felt more like shedding a second skin. Her ties to the outside world were already thin, fragile threads she'd been ready to snap for years. 

"Done," she said, downing the rest of her whiskey in one go. "What else?" 

In-ho's smile widened slightly, and for a moment, she thought she caught a flicker of pride in his eyes. 

"You'll need to understand how the games work—every rule, every strategy, every potential outcome," he said. "I'll walk you through it, but once you're inside, you're on your own." 

Do-hee grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Sounds fun. I always like a good challenge." 

"Good," In-ho said, his tone sharpening. "Because it's not just about surviving. It's about control. The players, the staff, even the system itself—everything can be manipulated if you know how." 

Her grin widened, her excitement barely contained. "And that's where I come in?" 

"That's where we come in," he corrected. "Together." 

There was a long pause as their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. It wasn't love in the traditional sense—neither of them were capable of something so pure, so simple. What they had was darker, more complicated. It was a partnership built on shared madness, a mutual understanding of the chaos that lived in both of them. 

And it worked. 

"Alright," she said, standing up and walking toward him. She sat on his lap, leaving a small gap between the two, "Let's do it." 

In-ho reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're not afraid?" 

Her smile turned wicked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Afraid? I've been waiting for something like this my whole life." 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, In-ho leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "Welcome to the game, Do-hee." 

She laughed softly, the sound low and almost unsettling. "Let's see if the game can handle me." 

By the time the sun began to rise, the path ahead of them was clear, and Kang Do-hee was ready to embrace the madness that awaited her. 

In-ho had been right about one thing: she wasn't just joining the games. She was becoming part of them.

The morning air was thick with anticipation, as though the world itself was holding its breath. She was still processing the night before, the gravity of what she had agreed to settling over her like a second skin. But instead of fear, she felt... alive. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from anxiety but from exhilaration. For the first time in years, she wasn't running from the chaos—she was diving headfirst into it.

In-ho was already up, sitting at the sleek dining table with a stack of files spread out before him. His expression was unreadable, a mask of calm efficiency as he sifted through the documents.

"Coffee?" he asked without looking up.

"Sure," Do-hee replied, walking over to him. She grabbed the mug he slid toward her and took a sip, the bitterness grounding her.

"Have a seat," he said, motioning to the chair across from him.

She obliged, leaning back as she watched him work. "You're awfully focused for someone who claims to thrive on chaos."

He smirked faintly. "Chaos only works when you control it."

"Fair enough," she said, setting her mug down. "So, what's all this?"

In-ho slid a file across the table to her. She opened it to find a series of profiles—names, faces, backgrounds. Her brow furrowed as she flipped through them.

"Players?" she asked.

"Potential players," he clarified. "The list isn't finalized yet, but these are some of the potential players. You'll need to familiarize yourself with them."

Do-hee raised an eyebrow. "Why? Isn't the point to let them fend for themselves?"

"I suppose so," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But understanding who they are, what drives them—that's how you gain an advantage. Everyone has a breaking point, and if you know where it is, you can use it."

She smirked, flipping through the pages with renewed interest. "I like the way you think."

He studied her for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "I knew you would."

They spent the next several hours going over the profiles, In-ho pointing out key details about each potential player. There was a desperate father drowning in debt, a con artist with a charming smile, and a pregnant woman. Each one had a story, a reason they'd be willing to risk everything for the promise of wealth.

As Do-hee absorbed the information, she found herself growing more intrigued. It wasn't just the players that fascinated her—it was the system itself, the intricate web of manipulation that had been woven. "This is brilliant," she said, setting the last file down. "Twisted, but brilliant."

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "High praise coming from you."

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "So, when do I start,"

"Soon," he said. "There's one more thing we need to discuss first."

Her curiosity piqued, she tilted her head. "What's that?"

In-ho's demeanor shifted, his expression growing serious. "Once you're inside, you'll have to make a choice. Are you there to play, or are you there to control?"

She considered his words carefully. "Can't I do both?"

"Not in the way you think," he said. "If you want to survive, you'll need to blend in. But if you want to shape the outcome, you'll have to stay one step ahead of everyone—including the other staff."

Do-hee's smile turned sharp, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Sounds like my kind of challenge."

He nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "I thought you'd say that."

The room fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their coffee. For all their talk of chaos and control, there was an odd sense of calm between them, as though they were two sides of the same coin.

As the days stretched on, In-ho meticulously prepared for the next phase of their plan. His movements were deliberate, every detail accounted for as he made phone calls, sent encrypted messages, and coordinated logistics with his network of enforcers. His precision was surgical, a trait that had always drawn Do-hee to him.

Meanwhile, Do-hee roamed the apartment restlessly, her mind abuzz with impatience and exhilaration. Weeks had passed since In-ho first hinted at what was to come, and the waiting gnawed at her. She thrived on chaos and thrill, and the anticipation of what lay ahead was almost unbearable.

One evening Do-hee found herself sprawled on a plush chair, absentmindedly flipping through an old book. In-ho entered the room, his presence commanding yet oddly comforting.

He stopped by his desk, glancing over a set of documents one last time before turning to her. "Do-hee," he said, his voice calm yet heavy with meaning.

She perked up instantly, sitting upright. "Yes?"

"It's time," he said, his tone carrying the weight of finality. "Tomorrow, we will go to the location. The games will officially begin, and from that point on, you're no longer just a spectator. You're part of it."

Do-hee's lips parted in an exhilarated grin, her eyes alight with excitement. "Finally!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She rose from her chair and paced the room, her energy practically vibrating off the walls. "This is all so thrilling, isn't it? The rush—the sheer madness of it all."

In-ho watched her with quiet amusement, the corners of his mouth curling beneath his mask of stoicism. "You always thrived on chaos, didn't you?," he remarked.

"And you don't?" she shot back, her eyes narrowing playfully. "That's why we get along so well, isn't it?" She stepped closer, her cold hands cradling his face as her fingers brushed against his skin. Her lips hovered inches from his, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You and I—we're the same. Two twisted halves of the same whole."

In-ho's gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving hers as he let her words hang in the air. He took a moment before speaking, his voice low and steady, carrying a sharp edge."You're right," he said, his words deliberate, each one sharpened with intent. He reached up, his fingers brushing lightly against her hands as if testing the weight of her claim. "We're the same." He leaned in, his lips brushing hers, just enough to send a jolt through her. "I don't need anyone else, just you," he murmured.

Do-hee's eyes darkened with a dangerous glint, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I know. I guess I'm the one who can keep you grounded in this mess you've created."

In-ho's fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her closer until their faces were mere inches apart. His gaze locked with hers, and for a brief moment, there was no distance between them—only the raw, undeniable truth of their connection.

Do-hee leaned in, her lips grazing his for a brief moment before she pulled away, just out of reach. The flicker of a mischievous smile danced on her lips as she stood up, straightening her posture.

"We should get some rest," she said, her voice smooth, almost teasing. She turned toward the bedroom, her movements slow, deliberate. "Tomorrow is going to be a very... busy day."

In-ho let out a small laugh, a rare, genuine expression that sent a shiver down her spine. "Then let's get some rest."

Nik Speaks!
ayeee little introduction / prologue chapter 😝😝
do-hee crazy yall i don't think in-ho realizes it yet like my girl insane on the low! anyways hope you guys enjoy this and like it so far if yall don't oh well😵‍💫 also i didn't proof read any of this so if theirs typos MIND UR BUSINESS
anyhoo love yall until next time !