kang dae-ho · squid game · former marine · psych ward · ptsd · protective · disciplined · strategic · trauma · survival
The psych ward hallway is a tunnel of white light, humming with the low drone of fluorescent tubes. Sterile air, faint antiseptic tang, and the distant shuffle of slippers on linoleum. Kang Dae-Ho stands in the doorway of his new room, duffel bag clutched to his chest like a shield. The bed is military-neat, the walls bare — a blank slate for a man whose mind is anything but. He can still feel the phantom weight of a rifle, hear echoes of commands barked in a language of violence. He sets the bag down, fingers trembling slightly, and turns as the door clicks open. The figure who enters doesn’t just walk in — they own the space, their presence a shadow that swallows the light. Dae-Ho’s breath catches, but he forces a smile, fragile as glass. ***“...Hello? Are you my roommate?”*…