#escape plan

Series!

Chapter Forty Three: The Edge Of Escape

Pairing: Dark!Inho (Frontman) x Fem!Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: Y/n wakes up before Inho, heartbroken yet determined, knowing today she must take a step that could save them all. Meanwhile, Junho arrives with a plan, and Y/n, torn between love and duty, prepares to leave with him—leaving behind the life, memories, and the man she loves.

Warnings: Emotional intensity, tearful and heart-wrenching moments. Mentions of pregnancy and separation anxiety. Suspense and tension related to escape and danger.

Author's Note: Probably, this is the third last chapter of the series :(

Word Count: 3,148

Tag list: Let me know if you want to get tagged.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97 @alex-17s-world @mObi4girls @maah-sama @grylian @hecticspice @manager016 @mxriesss @christmascoles @nosebeers @carolinevoight @princesscherryblossom15 @frozen-waffle @eviesmoon @startled-cats @retiredpieceofshits @ft-winnow @weakh3rokdrama @bluechaoslizzy @frontwomann @cutecat2005 @starlightlunax @alex110370000 @wanna-plan-world-domination @akiyhara @natalie3657 @hornylittlesimp @lazybum0 @reneejkn @solarpotato @masked-protocol @lindsay00000

Y/n didn’t sleep — not even for a minute.

Her eyes had stayed open all night, tracing the faint glow of the ceiling light, listening to Inho’s slow, peaceful breathing.

Morning didn’t exist in this place, not really; the room had no windows, no sunrise… just a cold system-controlled shift in lighting that only pretended to be morning.

And yet, something about today felt heavier. Final. Inevitable.

She turned her head slowly.

Inho was curled into her like a child, one arm draped over her waist, his face buried against her chest as if she was the only place he could rest. There was no mask, no authority, no darkness in him right now — just the man she loved, clinging to her without even knowing it.

Her heart cracked.

She was going to leave him today.

Not because she wanted to — but because this was the only way he could ever escape the cage he’d built around himself.

She smoothed his hair back, took a trembling breath, and whispered.

“Inho… wake up.”

He groaned immediately, burying himself deeper against her.

“Mhm… five more minutes.” he muttered, voice low and rough with sleep.

“You’re late than usual.” she whispered softly. “You should go. They’ll be looking for you.”

“No.” He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him like she might disappear. “I don’t want to go.”

She forced a small smile. “It’s just the final game. Go finish everything quickly… then we can spend the rest of the day however you want.”

At that, he finally cracked an eye open — mischief flickering through the sleepy haze.

“However I want?” he murmured, fingers trailing slowly down her hip.

She blushed, swatting at him weakly. “Behave.”

He didn’t.

Instead he tugged her closer, lips brushing the side of her neck lazily.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered, voice suddenly softer — too soft. “I’m having a strange feeling today.”

Y/n’s breath caught. “What kind of feeling?”

He hesitated. Then, almost childlike

“…Like if I walk out that door, I won’t see you again.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

“Oh, Inho…” she whispered.

She cupped his face, kissing him slowly, trying to pour every reassurance, every apology, every love she couldn’t say out loud into that kiss. Her hands stroked his cheeks, calming him the way she knew always worked.

He exhaled, melting into her touch, the fear in his body easing under her warmth.

“I’m right here.” she whispered against his lips. “You’ll see me again. I promise.”

He closed his eyes, letting her soothe him, completely unaware that her promises were breaking her in half.

---

Inho stood in front of the mirror, fastening the final piece of the Frontman uniform.

The matte black mask rested on the table beside him — the very last thing he needed to put on.

Y/n sat silently on the edge of the bed, hands curled into the blanket, her heart cracking with every movement he made.

He tightened a strap.

Straightened the coat.

Pulled on the gloves.

Each small action felt like a countdown…

A countdown to losing him.

Her throat burned.

Inho finally turned toward her, fully dressed except for the mask. Seeing her watching him so quietly, he softened. All the coldness of the uniform disappeared for a moment.

He walked to her and leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss — warm, familiar, grounding.

Then he crouched in front of her, placing both hands on her belly.

He pressed a soft kiss there.

“Appa will be back soon,” he murmured to the twins. “Be good until then, hmm?”

Y/n’s chin trembled. She bit her lip hard, trying not to break in front of him.

He stood, sighing, and grabbed his mask.

He turned toward the door.

But before he could reach it—

“…Inho.”

Her voice cracked.

He paused immediately and turned.

Y/n got up slowly, and then—

without a single word — she walked straight into him and hugged him tight.

Both arms around him, face pressed into his chest, holding him like she was holding on for dear life.

He froze, surprised by the intensity of it.

“Hey…” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

She shook her head against him, her fingers clutching his coat.

Her voice was barely a breath.

“I just… I just needed to hug you.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her.

Her eyes were glossy.

Her lashes were wet.

She looked like she was breaking.

“Y/n…” his voice softened, worried. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m okay,” she lied softly. “Just… emotional.”

He cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears gently with his thumbs.

“You’re scaring me.” he whispered.

She swallowed hard, then forced herself to look into his eyes — the same eyes that once held nothing but shadows, now soft only for her.

“Inho…” Her voice trembled.

“I need you to know something.”

He frowned slightly, waiting.

“I love you.” she whispered. “So much. And I’m… I’m doing everything for you. Everything.”

His brows drew together in confusion.

“Y/n… what are you talking about?”

She shook her head quickly, not letting him question it.

“Just remember it.” she begged. “Please. That I love you so much.”

He exhaled, realizing she was overwhelmed, maybe afraid for him. He brushed her hair back gently.

“Of course I know.” he whispered. “You love me. And I love you too. More than anything.”

A tear fell silently down her cheek.

He kissed it away.

“Hey,” he whispered, trying to lighten the moment. “It’s only the final game. I’ll be back before you start missing me.”

She let out a shaky laugh that broke halfway through.

He kissed her forehead.

Then her lips.

Slow, lingering… like he wanted to take a piece of her with him.

When he finally pulled back, he placed the mask over his face.

The transformation was instant — her lover disappearing behind the cold, faceless Frontman.

He opened the door.

Paused.

Looked back at her one last time.

She whispered, voice cracking. “Come back to me.”

He nodded once, firm.

“I will.”

Then he stepped out and the door shut behind him with a soft click that felt like a knife going through her chest.

---

The heavy metal door shut behind him, sealing him inside the private observation room.

Silence greeted him—thick, cold, familiar.

Inho exhaled slowly and walked toward the leather couch where he always sat to oversee the game.

But today… he didn’t sit immediately.

His mind was too full.

Full of her.

He finally lowered himself onto the couch, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together. The dim lights reflected softly off his mask until he pulled it off and placed it beside him.

For a moment, he simply stared into the empty screen ahead.

Why was she acting like that?

The way she hugged him…

the way she cried…

the fear in her voice when she told him she loved him…

It echoed in his mind like a whisper he couldn’t forget.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe she’s stressed.” he murmured to himself. “It’s the pregnancy… hormones… this place…”

He leaned back, eyes softening.

Today was the final game.

After this, there would be peace for a while.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Maybe after the game ended, he should take her away.

Far away from this island.

To somewhere she loved — the place she once talked about with sparkling eyes.

A country she always said she wanted to visit someday.

He imagined her in a warm sweater, walking down quiet streets, holding his hand, laughing.

He imagined her eating food she loved, shopping, resting, smiling — free from all the darkness around him.

Maybe it would cheer her up.

Maybe it would make her feel safe again.

It would be good for her health too… and the babies.

His hand stilled.

The babies.

Their babies.

His chest softened with a warmth he still didn’t fully understand, one he never thought he’d feel in this lifetime.

Then… suddenly… a thought hit him.

A quiet, soft, almost shy idea.

He sat up straighter.

A trip.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

And then—

Maybe it was finally time.

His heart gave a small, uncharacteristic flutter as he stood up quickly, almost impulsively.

He walked toward a wall panel, pressing a sequence of buttons only he knew.

A small hidden drawer slid open.

Inside it, under a folded cloth, lay a small velvet box.

He stared at it for a long moment before picking it up gently.

The ring.

The one he had bought years ago, the day he realized what he felt for her wasn’t just admiration… wasn’t just fascination…

It was love.

Back then, she was only Junho’s friend.

He watched her from a distance, always planning to propose someday — someday when their worlds aligned, when fate allowed it.

But fate had dragged him into darkness long before he could give it to her.

He opened the box slowly.

The ring glimmered under the dim lights — simple, elegant, breathtakingly beautiful.

Perfect for her.

Inho’s lips curved into the smallest, softest smile.

“Maybe now is the right time.” he whispered.

She was carrying his children.

She loved him.

She stayed by his side despite everything.

He closed the box, holding it carefully, almost reverently.

He imagined kneeling before her on their trip, holding her hand, placing the ring on her finger.

He imagined her shocked expression turning into happiness — eyes wide, lips trembling, cheeks warm.

He imagined her crying from joy, not fear.

Laughing, not trembling.

Leaning into him, not away from him.

He imagined their future — a home, a family, peace.

He whispered into the empty room.

“I’ll give you and the babies everything. I’ll give you the best life I can… I promise.”

A soft, rare smile touched his face — a smile that reached his eyes.

He had no idea, no clue at all…

that while he was planning a proposal, she was planning an escape.

---

The dormitory was filled with a heavy, suffocating silence.

One by one, the remaining players stepped forward to vote.

Inho stood beside the VIPs, mask on, posture rigid, hands clasped behind his back.

But his heartbeat… it was off.

He could feel it.

Something wasn’t right.

The first player voted.

X.

Then the second.

X.

Murmurs rippled through the VIP lounge.

Glasses paused in midair.

Chests leaned forward.

Another player.

Another X.

A VIP groaned behind his gold mask.

“Are you kidding me? We came here for a bloodbath.”

Another added, annoyed, “What’s the point of a final if no one’s dying?”

Inho didn’t respond. He was too still. Too quiet.

His eyes narrowed behind the dark mask as each light on the screen flickered red.

X.

X.

X.

He felt a pinprick of cold at the base of his spine.

This wasn’t normal.

The players should have been desperate for the prize.

Greedy.

Ambitious.

Foolish enough to fight to the death.

But this—this unity?

This collective decision?

It was impossible.

Suspicious.

The final player stepped forward. Everyone held their breath.

A long pause. Then—

X.

Silence hit the room like a punch.

The VIPs erupted instantly.

“What the hell—?!”

“This is absurd!”

“They can’t end it like this!”

“You assured us a finale worth our time!”

The VIP room exploded with complaints.

“What a disaster!”

“I wanted blood!”

“This season is ruined!”

“They actually chose to walk away?”

Inho didn’t flinch. He didn’t react.

But his jaw tightened behind the mask.

The lead VIP scoffed and flicked his hand dismissively.

“Well… rules are rules, I suppose. If they all vote to end the game, the money is split.”

Another groaned. “What a pathetic ending.”

Another huffed, lifting a champagne glass carelessly.

“What a waste. I expected more from these games.”

Inho’s fingers curled slightly.

Rules were rules— yes.

But this…

This made no sense.

His thoughts began to spiral.

Who convinced them?

Why now, right before the final?

Was it coincidence…or something else?

A knot twisted in his stomach.

He stood completely still, hands clasped behind his back, face hidden behind the obsidian mask.

He stared at the screen, jaw tightening behind the mask.

Something must’ve happened among them,

he reasoned.

A conversation.

A strategy.

Maybe they panicked.

Maybe they plotted.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing calm into his posture as the VIPs ranted behind him.

“Rules are rules,” one of them grumbled.

“They can leave with the divided sum.”

“Yes,” another sighed. “Though far less entertaining.”

Inho bowed his head with disciplined control.

“Preparations will be made.” he said flatly.

But inside?

There was a dull throbbing frustration.

The final game… canceled.

This wasn’t the ending he’d prepared for.

Not after months of planning.

Not after the tension of the previous rounds.

Still, he composed himself.

The players would leave. He would return to Y/n soon.

And once today ended, he planned to take her far, far away.

The ring in his pocket suddenly felt heavier, almost warm, and the thought softened the sharpness inside him.

Soon.

He would finish everything today.

And then he could finally give her a life outside of these walls— the life she deserved.

---

The announcement echoed across the arena, metallic and final.

“The Games have officially concluded.”

One by one, the bodies of the surviving players were escorted through a different corridor—now dressed in their own clothes, each injected with a sedative before entering the transport vans.

They slumped unconscious in their seats, heads resting against the cold metal walls as guards buckled them in.

Just like when they were brought here…they were leaving now.

They would wake up in the same world that had forgotten them long before Squid Game ever did.

The guards moved with mechanical efficiency, loading the vans and sealing the doors. Engines rumbled to life, headlights sweeping as each vehicle prepared to drive the players back to their starting points—scattered across the city, returning as ghosts with bulging bank accounts and no explanation.

Inside the glass viewing tower, the VIPs were gathering their things, draped in their ornate robes and animal masks. The mood was soured—disappointment thick in the air.

“A boring finale.”

“What a waste. No spectacle at all.”

“That’s the trouble with free will… the herd always disappoints.”

In-ho stood still, hands clasped behind him, listening in silence as they complained. He didn’t care about their irritation; he never had.

But this year, it grated more than usual. Maybe because they sounded so… shallow. Loud. Detached in a way that made him feel more detached from them.

One of the VIPs patted his shoulder as he passed.

“Frontman, the next season better deliver something spectacular. We rely on you.”

In-ho bowed slightly, the mask hiding the mild exhaustion tightening his jaw.

“I always deliver.”

The VIP gave a satisfied hum and walked toward his private boat.

The marble corridor leading to the exit platform filled with footsteps and muffled chatter. One by one, escorted by attendants, the VIPs boarded their respective rides—yachts, helicopters waiting like beasts in the fog.

Inho stood at the edge of the platform, watching the last of them depart.

The engines roared.

Lights cut across the water.

The fog swallowed everything.

And then… silence.

For the first time in days, silence.

He exhaled slowly, shoulders lowering as the weight of hosting the season settled in his bones. There was nothing suspicious in his mind, no twist, no warning bells.

Just the standard aftermath. The emptiness that always followed the end.

He turned away from the now-empty docks. The guards awaited his orders. The island was starting its transition from arena… back to ghost land.

The Games were over.

But his role never ended.

---

A soft knock at the door broke the silence of y/n’s room.

Before she could rise, it opened just enough for Junho to slip inside, shutting it quietly behind him. His face was sharp with focus, breath steady, voice low but urgent.

“Everything is ready.” he whispered.

“All the guards are occupied. Security is in post-game protocol. The players vans have already left. This is the best window we’ll ever get.”

Y/n swallowed, her fingers curling slightly on the blanket draped over her lap.

Her heart knew this moment was coming.

But her chest felt tight… painfully tight.

Junho stepped closer, his eyes searching her face. “We have to move now.”

She nodded slowly, though her gaze drifted around the room—the place that had become both cage and comfort.

The neatly-made bed where Inho held her the night before.

The little basket of baby toys he had arranged clumsily but earnestly.

The folded blankets he insisted on picking himself.

The soft, quiet mornings where he clung to her, as if afraid she would vanish.

A lump formed in her chest.

He would come back and go insane when he realized she was gone.

He would tear the island apart.

She knew it. She felt it.

And yet…staying was worse.

For her.

For the babies.

Even for him.

Jun-ho quietly placed a folded slip of paper on the desk. His handwriting was sharp but shaking with emotion.

'Hyung… I’m taking her with me. You can hate me later.'

He didn’t let her read the rest.

“Let’s go.” he whispered.

Y/n placed a hand over her stomach, breathing deeply as she took one final sweep of the room—a goodbye carved into her bones.

Then she nodded.

Junho opened the door.

They stepped into the hallway.

The world outside her room felt colder than usual. Quieter. As if the island itself was holding its breath.

Junho led her through dim corridors she had never walked before—maintenance tunnels, back staircases, narrow service halls with peeling paint and low ceilings.

Every few steps he would glance behind them, listening for any sound that didn’t belong.

Their footsteps were soft.

The walls hummed with distant machinery.

Somewhere far away, guards voices echoed faintly, too busy with end-of-season protocols to notice two ghosts slipping through the veins of the island.

Y/n held onto the railing as they descended a narrow metal stairwell.

Her heart pounded—not from fear of being caught… but from leaving behind the only person who had ever looked at her like she was something worth holding.

Still…she kept walking.

Because love wasn't safety.

And safety wasn’t here.

Jun-ho reached the lower exit—a service door near the cliffs. He pressed his hand to the scanner he’d hacked earlier.

The red light flickered… then turned green.

The lock clicked open.

He looked at her.

“Once we step outside,” he whispered, “there’s no turning back.”

The Ultimate Irish Exit 🚗💨

Let’s be honest: your social battery doesn't always have the same stamina as your aunt's storytelling. There is no greater peace of mind than knowing you are the captain of your own getaway ship. Bringing your own car to a family gathering isn't just about transportation—it’s a self-care boundary. When the conversation turns to politics or the third round of "when are you getting married" starts, you’ve got your keys in your pocket and a clear path to the driveway. A thumbs up from the driver's seat is the only closure you need. Stay sovereign, friends.

*The cat’s eyes widen upon seeing her.*

HAPPY FIRST ANNIVERSARY! 🤍

IT'S BEEN A YEAR SINCE TIM CALLED LUCY 'FREAK IN THE SHEETS', A YEAR SINCE LUCY JUMPED FROM ONE MOVING CAR TO ANOTHER, A YEAR SINCE LUCY SAVED TIM. AND A YEAR SINCE TIM SAID THAT HE WILL SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE TRYING TO PAY IT BACK IN WHATEVER SMALL DOSES SHE ALLOWS. 🥹