District 1, Luxury
It's just an ordinary day. The young man repeated this phrase as a mantra as he tried to select the perfect outfit for the day's festivities. He was debating between two frilled dress shirts when a knock sounded on the door. It's just an ordinary day. My name is only in once. This is the last year I'm eligible.
The door swung open. The young man turned around to greet his mother, smiling at her as she entered the room. She eyed the shirts in her son's hands. "Picking out your outfit for the Reaping?"
The young man nodded.
"That one," his mother declared, pointing to the cream-colored shirt in his right hand. "Pair it with that pretty necklace you have that matches your eyes."
The young man nodded again, hanging the light blue shirt he was holding back in the closet and going towards his jewelry box. "Thank you, Mom."
It's just an ordinary day. She knows that, and that's why she's helping me. I have to look my best.
Smiling nervously, his mother entered the room, waiting until he had pulled the sleeves of the shirt on and began buttoning it closed to place her hands on his shoulders. "...Last year, sweetie. You just have to make it through this one more time. How about we go out for some low-fat gelato to celebrate?"
"I shouldn't," the young man admitted, pulling a peridot necklace from his jewelry box and putting the chain around his neck. His mother took it from him, fastening it skillfully. "I wouldn't want to spoil my figure, low-fat or not."
Smile growing more fond, his mother kissed his head lightly, adjusting the chain of the necklace around the collar of his shirt. "That's my boy."
She hesitated, then stepped in front of him, unbuttoning the top five buttons of the shirt. Covering her mouth briefly, she adjusted the shirt to expose a bit more of her son's sculpted chest, then nodded in satisfaction. By his sides, the young man's fists clenched just slightly, but he maintained a poised, polite smile.
"You should wear that dark brown jacket today," she said. "The one we bought you from District 8 that matches with this shirt. The earthy tone goes well with the greens."
"I was planning on it," the young man admitted. It's just an ordinary day. Mercy will be there. You have to make sure she knows you're okay.
Again, his mother nodded...then pulled her son into a tight hug, breathing deeply. They were silent for a few moments, the young man hugging her back as they both tried to ignore what the Reaping actually entailed.
It's just an ordinary day.
That thought was becoming more frequent now.
At last, the two separated. The young man found the suit jacket his mother had pointed out and pulled it on, eyeing himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess. He'd have to fix that before he left.
He bid a fond "see you later" to both parents before leaving their home. A few other teens waved hello as he passed. He waved back, politely, earning a few giggles from the girls he walked with. Yes, this was normal. Today was just like any other day. Today was nothing special, despite the prick on his finger making him jump when the Peacekeepers took his blood again. Today was completely and absolutely ordinary, despite the mayor's speech on the founding of Panem. Today was absolutely, positively, utterly average in every way, even though the Escort was paying their district a visit.
It's just...an ordinary day.
The young man's brilliant green eyes sought out District 1's Mentor, a girl named Mercy Crocker. Her gaze met his in the crowd. She was so strong. Those ocean eyes promised safety. Yes, today was completely normal. The young man smiled at Mercy. Mercy scoffed and tore her eyes away.
But they couldn't stay away for long. The two stared at each other, eyes flickering. You're going to be fine, she seemed to say. Your name is only in once. This is your last year. You're not going.
"Chou Futami," the Escort read out. A redheaded girl from the section opposite the young man gasped in alarm, shaking her head as she stepped forwards on shaky legs. She paused at the foot of the stairs, uttering quiet, protesting whimpers until a Peacekeeper finally had to push her forwards. The Escort seemed sympathetic, but maybe that was the young man reading too much into her clear blue eyes.
He sought out Mercy again. She nodded in reassurance. Yes, things would go back to normal soon. He didn't have to worry about Chou. And whoever the poor boy chosen was, well...he wouldn't have to worry about him either. There was nothing unusual about today.
"Cerys Bellamy."
It's just an ordinary day.
Mercy shot up from her chair, stalking over to the Escort and snatching the paper out of her hands. The Escort scowled, crossing her arms. Mercy read the paper over and over, eyes widening in disbelief.
The young man's heart had started pounding.
It took him a while to realize why he had reacted to the name. Because it was his.
It's...
It's just an...
He felt nauseous.
An ordinary day. No, that was some other poor man with the name Cerys. She...read the name wrong.
"Draw again," Mercy ordered lowly.
The Escort placed a hand on her hip. "Unless someone else would like to volunteer, I'm afraid I can't do that."
Yes! A volunteer! District 1 churned out Careers like District 9 churned out bread. It was in their blood to volunteer.
So why was everyone so quiet?
There was a strange cloud over the boy's section. As if they were whispering to each other, "He'll be fine because he's Cerys Bellamy."
Cerys's feet were moving. He didn't fully process it until they'd carried him up the stairs and over to Mercy Crocker, where he dragged her into a tight hug. One of them was shaking. Maybe it was both of them.
Today is the Reaping for the Hunger Games.
Ah. So it was.
Cerys fled backstage to vomit into the dirt.
District 2, Masonry
Everyone was so loud.
They were always loud. But today, when everyone's minds were buzzing with anxiety, they were louder than ever. Why did the Reapings have to involve everyone in District 2?
And why wasn't Laurel Faust still safe in the Capitol with her family?
She smiled wryly to herself. Well, she knew the answer to that question, at least. She was here in a District because a genetic anomaly, a mind reader, was a monster. Laurel knew who the real monsters were, but they had no self-awareness, apparently. It was disappointing, but not surprising.
Oh, well. Laurel could make a show of messing with the Escort again. "I volunteer...for jury duty! We don't have a jury? Then I volunteer...to be the new Escort! What? Volunteer for the Games? That's stupid! You're stupid!"
She squeezed her eyes shut when the Peacekeeper pulled out his needle. The prick made her suck in a gulp of air and she scurried away, hiding her hand under her arm as her breathing quickened. Why needles? Why did this stupid event have to involve needles?
Something pushed her along into the girl's section. The thoughts indicated a Peacekeeper; why did she stop? It's just a little prick. I hate having to watch these brats.
Just for fun, Laurel stomped on his foot and bolted into the middle of the crowd, snickering as she heard the Peacekeeper yell in pain. He searched for her, but she pulled two other girls closer and crouched among the legs of the others and he eventually gave up.
Laurel laid down in the grass while the mayor gave his speech. Sure, she was in everyone's way, but she didn't care. It wasn't like she had to worry about getting chosen. The people she was living with now had a deal with the local Escort. Leave Laurel alone, we'll pay you not to put her name in, we need her to investigate corruption and rebellion in the Districts, blah blah blah.
The Escort took the stage. Laurel ignored her completely. Until she spoke, and Laurel realized she was a he.
"Greetings, District 2," he called, voice smooth, warm, and horrifyingly familiar. Why was his voice so familiar? "Your usual Escort has been sick lately, so I will be taking over for her. I would like to begin by announcing a new rule: as of this year, the Hunger Games will no longer take volunteers."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Laurel sat up and jumped to her feet, heart thumping in her chest. Something told her this "rule" was made up.
When she saw the Escort, her insides twisted. She couldn't tell if she felt rage or terror at seeing her father's face. Why was he here? Why now? What happened to their other Escort?
No. I know why you're here.
You're going to try to get rid of me for good.
She couldn't pick out Nathaniel's thoughts over those of the crowd, but she didn't need to to know what he was planning. She was seeing red before he even drew the name for the girls.
"Now, our female tribute will be..."
Laurel hid further in the sea of other girls, but when she noticed Nathaniel's gaze land right on her, her eyes narrowed into daggers.
"Laurel Faust!"
She bolted up the stairs, fully launching herself at Nathaniel with a bestial, feral scream.
Her nails scratched into his arm just as Peacekeepers pulled her away. Nathaniel feigned fear, shuffling over to the other bowl of names.
"You bastard!" Laurel screamed. "Check the name! He's lying!"
"Quiet, you!" the Head Peacekeeper hissed, jabbing an electrified rod into Laurel's side. She spasmed in the other Peacekeepers' arms, lashing out with every limb she could to deal as much damage as possible despite the horrible ache that spread through her muscles. It took four prods to finally get her to stop attacking anything she could reach.
"H-he's--lying...!" she repeated, teeth chattering. He would have read her name no matter who he drew. It hadn't been enough to sell her off; now she had to die in the Games.
Predictably, the Peacekeepers ignored her. How could they be so blind to what was happening?! They knew this was Nathaniel Faust, didn't they? He was renowned. Why else would he draw his own daughter's name?
Idiots! Laurel screamed in pure rage, shivering on the floor of the stage. Open your eyes!
Fine! But I won't die here, you b*tch! I'm going to win! How do you feel about that?!
The Peacekeepers restrained her on the ground as Nathaniel straightened his jacket. Clearing his throat, he drew a name from the other bowl.
"And your male tribute...Levi DeWitt!"
Both of District 2's Mentors jumped out of their seats at this announcement. The smaller of the two hissed, barreling into Nathaniel with a great burst of speed. Laurel cackled as he fell onto the floor, tussling with a tribute who had previously won the Hunger Games through sheer tenacity. Laurel decided she liked this Mentor.
The Peacekeepers holding her down raced to separate the Mentor from Nathaniel. Slippery, the Mentor evaded their grasp just in time each time they got close.
"Take it back!" he shrieked. "Take back that f*cking rule! Let people volunteer!"
"Petri," the taller Mentor shot out. "Get the f*ck up already, that b*tch will be fine."
Petri hissed at the other Mentor over his shoulder, and during the split second he wasn't looking the Head Peacekeeper stabbed him in the side with his taser rod.
Laurel winced, eyes drawn to where a tiny boy with curly brown hair and venomous green eyes was making his way up to the stage. The boy bowed slightly to the taller Mentor, then whispered harshly with Petri, dragging him away from Nathaniel. Clearly winded, Petri ushered the small boy behind himself and fully growled at anyone who came close to them, as if trying to protect the tribute from something.
Laurel and Levi locked eyes. You're all I've got, a particularly loud thought chimed. You're gonna be my only friend in these Games. What if you hate me...?
He was scrawny and seemed to be weak...but there was something familiarly vicious buried in Levi's eyes. Maybe he would be useful to Laurel after all.
Nathaniel got back to his feet with the help of the Peacekeepers. In a devious mood, Laurel charged over to tackle him back down again and was predictably caught by a Peacekeeper. Typical. She clawed at her captor instead.
Nathaniel straightened his clothes again, glaring at Laurel. You're going to die out there, demon brat. There's nothing you can do.
For once, Laurel heard him loud and clear. Knowing that he was taunting her with her new helplessness made Laurel's fury slowly melt away, replaced by something more primally frightened. Glaring back at him, she buried her fear beneath revived anger, lashing out with a hand to claw at the Peacekeepers and her father. This f*cking bastard! Why is he doing this to me?! I-I'm not going back! I'm not dying to him! Why?! Why, why, why...?!
She maneuvered herself in the Peacekeeper's grasp until she could bite down on his bicep. He cried out, drawing the attention of his friends, who jabbed at Laurel with their tasers again. She screamed, a mix of terror, rage, and pain, but kept lashing out as long as she could. Nathaniel could never know how much she wanted to cry at the sight of him.
"...District 2, welcome your new tributes," Nathaniel called coolly, as if he hadn't just been attacked by his daughter and a Mentor on public television. "Miss Laurel Faust, and Mister Levi DeWitt!"
The polite applause drowned out Nathaniel's and Levi's thoughts. Levi met Laurel's eyes again, a resolute look on his face that Laurel prayed she was matching. She summoned all the wrath she could to her expression, shooting a final glare at Nathaniel before looking back at Levi. She and Levi both had reason to resent this new rule, didn't they? A silent pact passed between them: Nathaniel would be brought to justice somehow.
District 3, Technology
"Fuyukka," a raspy voice called down the hall, "it's...almost time for the Reaping."
The tiny, redheaded girl buried under her blankets sighed harshly at these words. "Do I gotta go, Mama? I ain't goin' even if they call me."
Her door opened, and a pale, sickly-looking woman entered the room, taking a seat on the side of her daughter's bed beside the pile of blankets she knew was Fuyuko. She fidgeted anxiously. "I...I really wish you didn't," she whispered. "I-I don't want you to go, Fuyukka. But--the Peacekeepers...they'll...y-you remember what they do."
Fuyuko sighed miserably through her nose, poking her head out from the mass of blankets and inchworm-scooting over to wrap the blankets around her mother as well. Yes, she remembered. She remembered the last time she refused to go to the Reaping and the Peacekeepers broke her door down and beat her and her mother until Fuyuko screamed at them that she would go. How could she forget?
But I'm almost through with this job. Fuyuko's bright blue eyes drifted down to her phone, where her thumbs tapped away on a keyboard as if they'd done it a thousand times. Maybe I can keep workin' at the Reapin'. I just can't let 'em hurt Mama.
...I don't wanna go. Shivering, Fuyuko bundled herself in her blankets, leaning into her mother's shoulder. Her mother slipped an arm around her and squeezed her close. What are the odds I'll get picked this year? If I get picked, not only will Mama be alone all this time, but...but I'll probably...
She couldn't finish the thought. Sure, Fuyuko was smart as a whip, and sure, she was fast. But she was skinny and short and she couldn't win the Games against so many huge, hulking tributes. She'd seen the brutality. She'd forced herself to study the Games and learn the strategies just in case she were ever chosen. Two more years and she'd be free...but life wasn't that easy.
No...she could only pray someone would volunteer for her.
No one will. You know that, Fuyu. Everyone here hates you. Searching for a distraction, Fuyuko stared down at her phone, snuggling closer to her mother. Stop it. Nope, no, not gonna think about that. You'll be fine. You're a genius.
A sharp knock sounded downstairs. Fuyuko's mother jumped, going pale, and Fuyuko quickly threw her blankets back onto her bed and started downstairs. Her mother followed right behind her.
F*ck! No time to think?! Taking a deep breath, Fuyuko opened the door and glared up at the Peacekeeper at her house, hiding her phone in her massive sweater pocket.
The Peacekeeper stared at her, then sighed. "Are you going to the Reaping dressed like that?"
"Unless you're okay with me runnin' late, yeah," Fuyuko spat. "What's wrong with my outfit?"
"It's tacky," the Peacekeeper shot back. His eyes drifted to her mother. "...But I guess that shouldn't surprise me from you two."
Fuyuko bit her tongue to keep from chewing him out. Only one remark slipped by. "Better'n lookin' like a f*ckin' clown like you Capitolites."
The Peacekeeper raised a hand as if to slap her. Fuyuko flinched.
"One more remark, and I'll be dropping off an unconscious body at the Reaping," he growled. "Now get going. Or do you need some more...incentive?"
His eyes landed on her mother again, a new kind of emotion present. Why did he have to smirk like a lecherous bastard?
"Leave her alone, I'm goin'!" Fuyuko snapped, elbowing past the Peacekeeper and stomping towards the Reaping. He can't touch Mama. Don't get Mama in trouble again, you b*tch.
Thankfully, the Peacekeeper allowed her mother to follow without a problem. Both of them went to the Reaping together, Fuyuko advancing to join the girls as the mayor began his speech while her mother stood just to the side, watching her nervously.
"Welcome, one and all, to the Reaping for the 99th Hunger Games!" the Escort called as the speech ended. "Thank you all for being here today."
We had no choice, idiot, Fuyuko thought bitterly, scooting to the edge of the crowd so she could hold her mother's hand. A nearby girl with pink eyes shot her a vicious glare as she inched past. Fuyuko flipped her off.
"As is customary, we will begin the Reaping by drawing a female tribute," the Escort declared. "Let's see..."
He swished his hand around in the bowl a bit before drawing it out. Nodding, he smiled to himself and read out, clearly, "Fuyuko Kawaguchi!"
Fuyuko's heart stopped.
The pink-eyed girl snorted, and scooted away from her. When Fuyuko didn't move, frozen in shock, the girl pointed to her. "Um, Sir? This is Fuyuko right here! I think she's having trouble getting to the stage!"
Her mother broke down in loud, frantic sobs, but before she could claw after Fuyuko a few other people held her back. Fuyuko felt like screaming, crying, and throwing up all at once. Her stomach was churning, her lungs tightening in her ribcage. It was like a snake coiled around her torso, squeezing her chest.
NO! NO, I CAN'T GO!
MAMA...!
The Peacekeepers were advancing, slowly. In a horrible, crushing panic...Fuyuko ran.
She barely heard people crying out behind her. She didn't care who it was. She had to run. She couldn't go to those Games.
Then one cry caught her ear. Her mother's.
"Stop right there, or your mom gets it!" someone shouted. Fuyuko tripped over her own feet, tumbling onto the ground. She turned to look at where a Peacekeeper was holding her mother in a death grip, a gun to her head.
Fuyuko froze.
NO NO NO NO MAMA'S IN DANGER!
YOU STUPID B*TCH DO SOMETHING!
WHY...CAN'T...I...MOVE?!
BREATHE ALREADY D*MMIT!
An incredibly tall, skinny man advanced through the crowd, remarkably calmly. He gripped the Peacekeeper's shoulder.
"Let 'er go," he ordered. "I'll talk to 'er."
The Peacekeeper glared at him.
"Let 'er go," the skeleton man repeated, more firmly. "You'll get your tribute. Gimme a minute with 'er."
Reluctantly, the Peacekeeper removed the gun from Fuyuko's mother's head, but he held her in place, ignoring her terrified sobs. Lips curling into a scowl, the skeleton man--one of District 3's Mentors, Fuyuko thought she remembered--took long strides to get to Fuyuko's side. He crouched in front of her, smiling gently, yet with an obvious sheen of empathetic apologeticness.
"Hey," he murmured, "she's gonna be okay. Promise. I'll make sure she can stay in Victor's Village with my sister, 'kay?"
Fuyuko shook her head frantically. She tried to speak, but her throat was closed. Mama needs help! You can't just throw 'er in a house and leave! She needs me!
"She needs some extra help, huh?" the Mentor guessed softly. "So does my sister. So do I, for God's sake. I got two angels who look out for her while I'm gone Mentoring. They'll take care of your mom too."
Fuyuko sniffled, burying her face in her hands. Carefully, gently, the Mentor took her hands in his and pulled them away from her face just enough for her to see. He released her with one hand to gesture across the way at two women standing together by the Mentor's side of the stage.
"Over there," he said. "Their names are Sachiko and Tomomi. They've been a huge help to me, and they know how to take care of addicts like me and my sister."
He paused, glancing at Fuyuko. "...And your mom?"
Admittedly stunned he had figured this out, Fuyuko merely nodded. The ache in her chest was starting to lessen slightly--just barely able to get words out, she croaked, "Mama--...n-needs me...!"
"And I promise, you're gonna come home to 'er," the Mentor said seriously. "The other Mentor up there's my brother. I coached him to win his Game. I make you the promise right now that I'm gonna get you through yours too."
Fuyuko sniffled, shaking her head again. "But--b-but I'm...!"
I'm too weak, she wanted to scream. I'll never make it! I'm gonna f*ckin' DIE out there!
F*ck...!
"You're scrawny?" the Mentor guessed. "Too little? Not strong enough?"
He took one of her hands, then placed his wrist in her palm and wrapped her fingers around it. To Fuyuko's slight surprise, even her tiny hands curled all the way around the Mentor's little wrist.
"Me too," he said simply. "An' I'm your f*ckin' Mentor, kiddo."
To her surprise, this actually did help Fuyuko feel a bit safer. Whoever this Mentor was, he was in the same boat she was. And he'd won. Not only had he won, but he'd used his knowledge to make sure someone else won.
He could do it again, right?
...I gotta get home to Mama.
"You're gonna make it home," the Mentor assured. "I'm gonna make sure of it. ...But you gotta come up on that stage now, okay? If you try to run, you're just gonna cause trouble for 'er. I know. I ran too. ...Sis has still got a scar from my mistakes."
Fuyuko swallowed painfully, nodding her head. He was right. That Peacekeeper would just hurt her mother if she didn't move. Shakily, she got onto her knees, then onto her feet. The Mentor smiled at her.
"My name's Asahi," he said. "We're gonna win this together, Fuyuko."
Fuyuko nodded again, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart. Shaking, she followed Asahi back towards the stage, eyeing the Peacekeeper holding her mother until he finally released her. Before going to the stage, she detoured to give her mother a hug. Her mother embraced her, trembling.
Asahi followed her, holding out a hand to stop the Peacekeepers from advancing. "I'm bringin' your daughter home, ma'am," he assured. "You can stay with my sister and a couple nice women who've been helpin' her out while we're away. The Peacekeepers are usually good to the Victors."
Fuyuko's mother nodded slightly, sighing shakily. "I...I-I need Fuyukka to come home. Please...please get her back!"
"I'm not gonna let her die," Asahi said seriously. "She'll join you in Victor's Village sooner than you think. If I could do it, so can she."
Fuyuko's mother didn't seem convinced at first...but her eyes drifted to Asahi, and as she took in his appearance, she nodded again, only slightly calmer.
"I'm comin' home, Mama," Fuyuko whispered firmly. "I will come home. Please wait until I get back."
Her mother nodded yet again. "...O-okay," she breathed. "Okay, just...h-hurry back."
Fuyuko nodded, finally separating herself from her mother. With great effort, she followed Asahi onto the stage, glaring down at the pink-eyed girl who'd pointed her out earlier. If it hadn't been for her, maybe Fuyuko could have pretended she didn't exist.
You f*ckin' b*tch. You should be up here, not me!
"Fuyuko Kawaguchi?" the Escort guessed, frowning in false sympathy at her.
Fuyuko turned her icy glare on him.
"Yes," Asahi rasped for her. "She's here, everyone can calm down."
The Escort nodded. "So sorry, dear. You'll be home before you know it. Ah..."
He went to the other bowl, pulling out a name. "...Our male tribute will be Nao Himura."
Someone in the crowd gasped in alarm. Another girl in the girl's section cried out in shock.
"I volunteer as tribute," another male voice called out clearly.
"Hinatan, n-no...!" a boy in the audience cried, grasping the arm of a muscular, tired-looking young man beside him. "You can't! Y-y-you...! Ah...!"
"Hey," the young man soothed gently, "better me than you. I'll be fine, Napyon."
"Hinatan, let someone else do it!" the girl in the audience yelled.
"Any other volunteers?" the young man asked. Everyone was utterly silent. "That's what I thought. I'll be okay, kids."
"No!" the boy begged, clinging to the young man's arm. Fuyuko recoiled. To get home to her mother, she would have to doom this boy to leave his family forever. How was this fair?
Ignoring the protests of the boy, the young man detached himself from his family and hurried to ascend the stairs. The boy let out a loud sob, racing over to the girl who had also cried out and jumping her in a hug.
"And...what is your name?" the Escort asked the young man. Taking a deep breath, the young man faced the crowd.
"Hinata Himura," he announced clearly.
...That was his brother, wasn't it? Fuyuko realized. F*ck! He volunteered to protect his brother! That ain't fair! Can't we both win?!
The Escort nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ladies and gentlemen, your District 3 tributes: Fuyuko Kawaguchi and Hinata Himura!"
The pit in Fuyuko's chest opened back up, threatening to swallow her whole. This isn't fair.