𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male reader

Chapter 3

"No, let the bruise show, people will think you got into an altercation with another tribute before you even made it to the arena."

"That's against the rules," Katsuki said.

"Only if you get caught. That bruise will say you faught, and didn't get caught, even better."

Katsuki only scowled in response and dumped the ice back in the bowl, to which Shota hummed, while examining the boy.

"With that physique, and that expression, you'll intimidate a lot of tributes. That might just save your life." He said. As much as (M/N) wanted to sock him in the face, he could definitely tell that Shota was right. Katsuki had a well toned body, which could be seen at first glance. Other tributes would definitely be weary of him in the arena. Shota then turned to (M/N).

"Can you hit anything with that knife other than the table?" He asked.

(M/N) was most confident with a bow and arrow, but he had spent a decent amount of time throwing knives as well. He realised that if he wanted Shota's attention, this was the best moment to make an impression.

(M/N) pulled the knife out of the table, got a good grip on the blade, and threw it into the wall across the room. He was just hoping for it to stick, but it lodged into the seam between two panels, making him look a lot better than he was.

"I see." Shota examines the two boys for a few seconds, "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit, and after you go through the stylists, you'll be attractive enough."

The boys didn't question this, as they knew the better looking tributes normally receive more sponsors.

"Alright, let's make a deal. Don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you." Shota says, "But you have to do exactly what I say."

It wasn't much of a deal, but it was definitely a big step forward compared to 10 minutes ago, when the boys had no guide at all.

"Fine, whatever." Katsuki says as he turns his head away and crosses his arms.

"Ok, so help us," (M/N) cut in, "When we're in the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for-"

"One thing at a time, in a few minutes we'll be pulling into the station, and you'll be given to the stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you, but don't resist, no matter what it is, just bear through it."

"But-"

"No but's, don't resist." He said as he grabbed the bottle, before leaving the train car. Soon after he left, everything went dark. (M/N) soon realised that they were passing through the mountains into the Capitol. The two stood in silence as the train began to slow down as bright light seeped in through the windows. Once (M/N)'s eyes adjusted, he could see hundreds of Capitol citizens crowding the station, all cheering at the tributes. He backed away from the window, disgusted by their excitement, knowing they couldn't wait to watch them die. But Katsuki maintained his ground, looking out into the sea of people with his back turned to (M/N), as he started to wave at them all. He looked back at (M/N) to see his surprised expression.

"Who knows?" He says, "One of them might be rich."

(M/N) had misjudged him, he thought Katsuki was a hot headed boy that didn't think things through, but seeing him now made (M/N) realise he was wrong. Katsui hadn't accepted his death, he was fighting to stay alive. But that also meant he was fighting hard to kill (M/N).

~

(M/N) grit his teeth as another wax strip was ripped off his leg.

"Sorry!" The woman waxing him said in a high pitched voice. (M/N) didn't understand how they could talk like that, it was annoying to listen to and sounded ridiculous. True to Shota's words, (M/N) didn't like the processes he was undergoing with the stylists. They had stripped him down and scrubbed his entire body so aggressively, (M/N) was sure they had taken off a few layers of skin, leaving most of his body a shade of pink from the scrubbing, he would definitely be sore for a while. After that he had his eyebrows plucked, which was also painful, before the stylists moved on to wax his legs, where he was currently trying to hold in any pained sounds that tried to escape his mouth.