𝓐 𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓷 𝓔𝓷𝓭 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male Reader

Chapter 26

Ultimately, there was only one person to turn to who might know what happened and could still be on (M/N)'s side. To broach the subject at all would be a risk. But while (M/N) thought Shota might gamble with his life in the arena, he didn't believe his mentor would rat him out to Kaina. Whatever problems they had with each other, they preferred resolving their differences one-on-one.

(M/N) scrambled off the tiles, out the door and across the hall to Shota's room. When there was no response to his knock, he pushed inside. Shota sprawled out in a tangle of sheets on his bed, passed out.

"Shota," (M/N) said, shaking his leg. Of course, it was insufficient. But (M/N) gave it a few more tries before dumping the pitcher of water on his face. He came to with a gasp, slashing blindly with his knife. Apparently, the end of Nezu's reign didn't equal the end of his terror.

"Oh. You," he said.

"Shota," (M/N) began.

"Listen to that. The Mockingjay found his voice. Well, Kan's going to be happy." He took a swig from a bottle. "Why am I soaking wet?"

"I need your help," (M/N) said.

"What is it? More boy trouble?" (M/N) didn't know why, but this hurt him in a way Shota rarely could. It must have shown on his face, because even in his drunken state, Shota tried to take it back. "Ok. Not funny." (M/N) was already at the door. "Not funny! Come back!"

(M/N) zigzagged through the mansion and disappeared into a wardrobe full of silken things. He yanked them from hangers until he had a pile and then burrowed into it, falling asleep.

~

When (M/N) walked back to his room, he found Shota waiting. He made a feeble attempt to get (M/N) to talk again, but (M/N) just went to take a bath. He eased himself into the water, eyes focused on the rose that had spread its petals overnight, filling the steamy air with its strong perfume. After some time he couldn't take it anymore and reached for a towel to smother it, when there was a tentative knock and the bathroom door opened, revealing three familiar faces. His stylists. He was puzzled over their reappearance before he realised this must be it, the day of the execution.

(M/N) rinsed and dried himself off, putting on a robe. In the bedroom, he found another surprise, sitting upright in a chair.

"Emi," he said.

"Hello, (M/N)." She stood and hugged him as if nothing had occurred since their last meeting, the night before the Quarter Quell. "Well, it looks like we've got another big, big, big day ahead of us. So why don't you start your prep and I'll just pop over and check on the arrangements."

"Ok," (M/N) said.

He sat there for a while, letting his prep team work on fixing him up. There was a tap at the door and Shoto stepped in. "Can I have a minute?" he asked. (M/N)'s prep team left the room. Shoto came up behind him and they examined each other's reflection in the mirror. (M/N) was searching for something to hang on to, some sign of the two boys who met by chance in the woods all those years ago and became inseparable. He was wondering what would have happened to them if the Hunger Games had not reaped one of the boys. If he would have fallen in love with the other, married him even. And sometime in the future, when the brothers and sisters had been raised up, escaped with him into the woods and left 12 behind forever. Would they have been happy, out in the wild, or would the dark, twisted sadness between them have grown up even without the Capitol's help?

"I brought you this." Shoto held up a sheath. When (M/N) took it, he noticed it held a single, ordinary arrow. "It's supposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war."