sharpa

Ultimately, my criteria for eliminating challenges was either a) they would be too involved to write and I got intimidated, b) I didn’t feel they contributed enough to the story or c) they were too similar to other challenges that I liked better. 

I knew going in that my biggest inspirations were going to be Squid Game and Alice in Borderland, so I drew on them for some (obvious) challenge ideas, but I also wanted to pull from Korean variety, hence the hide and seek one that I lifted pretty much straight from Running Man (thank you, Running Man). Also Survivor for the endurance challenge with the poles (thank you, Survivor). 

I think my favorite challenge to write was the hide and seek one, and again, it was initially going to be much longer. We were going to see more back and forth between the two teams, but unfortunately I ran out of time and had to keep it much more simple. Still, I liked that it truly brought Zhang Hao and Hanbin together as allies for the first time and served as a vehicle to escalate the conflict between Matthew and Hanbin. 

Speaking of Matthew, he was originally going to be a POV character. My four POVs were going to be Matthew, Jiwoong, Hanbin, and Zhang Hao and we were going to jump back and forth between them a fair amount in the opening part of the games, when everyone was separated. I actually wrote about 10k of this with pretty extensive Jiwoong and Matthew POVs before I realized that the fic would probably end up over 150k at the rate I was going and there was no way I could finish that before the Big Bang deadline. 

It was with great sadness that I pared back the POVs to Haobin, even though I do think it made for a more focused story. It did lead to me realizing I had to reintroduce a bunch of characters who had exclusively shown up in cut POVS, though. 

But here are some excerpts from Jiwoong’s POV, the first to go (sorry, king): 

EXCERPT 1

Jiwoong’s head hurts. Somehow, he figures he should have expected that they would be knocked unconscious before being unceremoniously deposited into the arena but he wasn’t factoring that into his careful imaginings of how the start of the games would go. 

Yoon Jongwoo seems annoyingly unaffected, walking a dozen paces ahead of Jiwoong to check the handful of rusted husks of cars that have been left on this stretch of highway. To their left is nothing but water, though skyscrapers dot the horizon on the other side of the massive river, and some even rise from the middle of it like twisted metal islands. To their right, identical white towers line the side of the highway—most of their windows shattered and vines and foliage gradually subsuming their exteriors. An old, battered sign still perched over the highway declares that they’re in a neighborhood called Gangnam, though that doesn’t mean much. Jiwoong has never seen a map of Seoul before the Calamity forced humanity to abandon it, retreating to a terraformed refuge in the sky. 

This close to the river, the ground is marshy and Jiwoong’s boots sink into the patches of earth that have emerged through the asphalt, water occasionally lapping at his ankles. 

Up ahead, Jongwoo pauses to pry open the back of a larger truck. They found a pack in the trunk of a car a few kilometers back, which Jiwoong is now carrying, and a token that’s clearly meant to be important, and now Jongwoo is determined to get them more supplies before the sun sets. 

“Be careful,” Jiwoong can’t help admonishing when he finally catches up. 

Jongwoo might never act like it, but he’s still a dongsaeng, and Jiwoong has always wanted to take care of him. 

EXCERPT 2

“I’m Yoon Jongwoo,” Jongwoo offers. “That’s Kim Jiwoong. Your turn.” 

“Han Yujin,” the kid mumbles after a rebellious pause. 

Jongwoo nods. “Well, Han Yujin, you can stay here tonight if you don’t try to steal anything. It’s probably safer than sleeping alone, right?” 

Yujin frowns at them suspiciously. “And if I do try?” 

Jongwoo smiles, all teeth. “Then I’ll break a couple bones.” 

Jiwoong knows that’s a lie—Jongwoo is harsh when he needs to be, the Lower Wards demand that, but he isn’t violent and he’s never lifted a finger against another person unless it was self-defense. The arena won’t change that, at least not yet. But Jongwoo is also extremely good at looking threatening and Han Yujin’s eyes get big and scared again. Jiwoong holds his tongue, wanting Yujin to stay like the stupid, protective hyung he can’t stop himself from being. Maybe frightening Yujin in compliance will be the way to go. 

“Fine,” Yujin mutters. “I’ll stay and I won’t try to steal anything.” 

Jongwoo's smile softens. He pats Yujin’s shoulder and gestures for Yujin to take a spot by the fire. “That’s the spirit, Yujin-ah. Alliances are important.” 

Yujin frowns—it seems to be a default expression—but sinks down next to Jiwoong, shooting him a wary glance. Jiwoong smiles, much more reassuring than Jongwoo. “Get some sleep.” 

“You’d better not try anything either,” Yujin says, even as he starts to lie down. 

“We won’t,” Jiwoong promises and exchanges a glance with Jongwoo, silently asking: do you really think he’s eighteen? 

No, Jongwoo answers with a tiny shake of his head. 

And here are some of Matthew’s original opening ones: 

EXCERPT 1

Hanbin taught him how to shoot the summer that he was seventeen to Hanbin’s eighteen. When the faulty environmental controls across swathes of the Lower Wards were malfunctioning yet again, causing heat waves that smothered neighborhoods, claiming dozens of victims every sweltering, oppressive day. The sticky air was perpetually laced with ash from the crematoriums, bitter on the tongue. Hanbin brought him to the rooftop of an old shop on the outskirts of their home neighborhood. It was a small, squat building dwarfed by taller structures on either side, and its sign only lit up one letter at night, its awning tattered and faded with age. It traded ration cards for fully-cooked meals but with another supply shortage also wracking the Lower Wards, it hadn’t been open in weeks. Hanbin knew the owner and sweet-talked his way into rooftop access where he set up targets and handed Matthew his bow. 

His hands were warm on Matthew’s arms as he guided Matthew into position, as he murmured “move your feet a little further apart” and “that’s it, draw back until you’re touching your cheek, that’s your anchor point and keep your breathing steady, center yourself.”

He cheered when Matthew hit his first bullseye, cupping Matthew’s flushed cheeks and exclaiming “you’re so good, Matthew-yah, I knew you would be!”

Matthew ignored the excited lurch in his chest back then. Now it’s a strange, blooming ache that he also doesn’t dwell on as he secures the bow to his pack. He’ll need to find or fashion arrows—something that he only watched Hanbin do a few times—and he adds to his mental checklist right after find Hanbin and find food. 

EXCERPT 2

“Who?” Matthew asks around a mouthful of protein bar. Neither of them offered to share food, not ready to be that magnanimous. 

“His name’s Hanbin,” Taerae says and Matthew nearly chokes. 

“Hanbin? You’re looking for Hanbin?” 

Taerae frowns at him. “You know Hanbin?” 

“Yeah, Sung Hanbin?” 

The frown eases. “Oh. No, mine’s Park Hanbin.” 

Right. Matthew vaguely remembers his Hanbin exchanging introductions with a boy who shared his name right before the dropship took off and they were all drugged into unconsciousness. Still, what are the odds? 

It might be the exhaustion, but he can’t tamp down on the sudden uncontrollable giggles bubbling in his throat. Taerae looks at him dubiously, clearly worried that this player he’s decided to ally with is actually insane. 

“We’ve both lost a Hanbin,” Matthew hiccups. “That’s hilarious.” 

Taerae softens, his smile dimpling one cheek. “I guess it kind of is.” 

I actually kept Matthew’s POV much longer than Jiwoong’s, just limited it to one scene per part, but when I shared the fic with my beta, they wisely called out that Matthew’s POV felt out of place when the entire rest of the fic was dedicated to Haobin, so here are excerpts from the last Matthew scenes to go: 

SCENE 1 (During final challenge): 

Yujin drops to the ground as the ax buries itself in the wall where his head was seconds ago, twisting to kick the other boy's feet out from under him. The boy goes down on one knee, but recovers too fast for Yujin to get a hit in, slamming Yujin against the wall with a hand around his throat. 

He's a full head taller than Yujin, making Yujin look like a fragile, slip of a child as he effortlessly lifts Yujin off the ground with one hand. Yujin scratches at the hand cutting off his air, wheezing, and aims a kick at the boy's chest. It connects and Yujin follow's it up with another just as Matthew reaches them and buries his knife in the boy's side. 

The boy shouts in pain, dropping Yujin, and Matthew wrenches the knife free with a spurt of blood, shoving the boy to his knees. 

"No," Yujin gasps when Matthew reaches for the boy's collar. "The points—" 

Yujin wants them, Matthew realizes, and hesitates. Yujin is sixteen and he shouldn't have to kill. Matthew wants to protect him from the monster that's sinking fangs into the lining of his stomach, the encroaching guilt that is going to haunt him as soon as he stops to breathe. 

"Yujin-ah—" he starts, but the downed boy manages to rally enough to twist and punch him in the face. He crashes to the ground from the force of the blow, cheek throbbing, 

The boy lands on top of him, a crushing weight, and hits him again. Again. Again. Matthew writhes like a trapped insect, trying to escape the assault. Suddenly, the boy shudders and coughs, freezing with one fist still raised in the air. Matthew watches in muted revulsion as foam bubbles at the seam of the boy's lips and his eyes roll back in his head. Some of it drips onto Matthew's face, searing like acid. The boy convulses one last time and collapses to the side in a lifeless heap. 

Yujin's collar beeps. 

He stares down at Matthew, at the body —wide, terrified eyes set in a wan, stricken face. 

"Yujin-ah," Matthew breathes, unsure what to say after that. 

SCENE 2 - (post fight, still during final challenge)

They come across another site of carnage—bodies strewn along the bank of the river, several facedown in the shallows. Matthew counts five boys in total and breathes a horrible sigh of relief when none of them are members of their alliance. When none of them are Hanbin. 

Jiwoong still insists that they move the bodies out of the water, wanting to place them on the bank. There are no burials in Hwaseong, especially not in the teeming Lower Wards that don't have space for graveyards or mausoleums. The boys will be cremated, but Jiwoong still places them in the proper pose: on their backs, with their hands crossed over their chests. One boy is missing a good section of his torso and Jiwoong arranges his arms to hide the worst of the destruction. Matthew insists on helping him and also insists that Gunwook and Yujin take a break, practically shoving them down the bank to go wash themselves off in water not contaminated by blood and corpses. 

"How many of us are going to be left, do you think?" he wonders as they position the last body. "When this is over?" 

"I don't know," Jiwoong says. "A lot of contestants seem to be dying. And will it matter? Isn't the last elimination right after this?" 

Right, Matthew forgot about that part of the announcement. 

"This feels like a nightmare," he confesses, focusing on the almost tranquil, gold-tinged river instead of the bodies at their feet. "I keep expecting to wake up in Hwaseong to Hanbin reminding me to breathe and telling me it was just a dream." His nails still have flakes of dried blood under them, darkened to an ugly brown. "A long, horrible dream." 

Jiwoong sighs and firmly guides him away from the bodies, keeping an arm over his shoulders. "I know," he says. "I signed up for this with the understanding that it would be grueling. I just didn't think—" 

Another sigh. Jiwoong turns his hand palm up, examining the blood on it. "They've made monsters of us. I wasn't anticipating that." He shakes his head. "I should have." 

"I guess that's what's the most entertaining," Matthew says, scathing and uncaring of the camera bot nearby. Let the fucking viewers in Hwaseong hear what he thinks. Let them squirm in their comfort and their safety. 

Jiwoong's hand moves in a circle against the center of his back, soothing and admonishing. "For what it's worth, I'm glad I've met you, Seok Matthew. That's one bright thing." 

He sounds achingly sincere as he says it and Matthew is caught between stop and don't give them this and me too, me too, me too. He settles for twisting to press his forehead to Jiwoong's shoulder, hoping Jiwoong will read the burgeoning love in the simple gesture. Jiwoong's hand cups the back of his head with enough tenderness that it feels like a kernel of the love returned. 

It's enough, for now. If it's all they get, then Matthew will be grateful for it. 

This one bright thing. 

Honestly, in terms of rewriting I’ve also never done it this extensively for a fic. To the point where my final draft was literally labeled the yawning grave (version 4):