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"Go on, then, lover boy," said the boy from District 2. "See for yourself."
(M/N) caught a glimpse of Katsuki, lit by a torch, heading back to the girl by the fire. His face was swollen with bruises, there was a bloody bandage on one arm, and he seemed to be limping. (M/N) remembered him shaking his head, telling him not to go into the fight for the supplies, when all along, all along he'd planned to throw himself into the fight. Exactly the opposite of what Shota told him to do.
(M/N) could accept that, since seeing all those supplies was tempting. But this... this was a whole different thing. Teaming up with the Career pack to hunt down the rest of them. No one from District 12 would think of doing such a thing. Career tributes are vicious, arrogant, well fed, but only because they're the Capitol's lapdogs. Universally hated by all except those from their own Districts. He could only imagine the things they were saying about Katsuki back home, and he had the audacity to talk to (M/N) about disgrace?
Obviously, the boy on the rooftop was just playing another game with (M/N). But this would be his last. (M/N) would eagerly watch the night skies for signs of his death, if he didn't kill the blonde first himself.
The Career tributes were silent until he was out of earshot, then began to use hushed voices.
"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?"
"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife."
Is he now? That's news. What a lot of interesting things I'm learning about my friend Katsuki today, (M/N) thought to himself with quite a bitter tone.
"Besides, he's our best chance of finding him."
It took (M/N) a moment to register that they were referring to him.
"Why? You think he bought into that sappy romance stuff?"
"He might have. Seemed pretty simple-minded enough to me. Everytime I think about him during the interview, I want to puke."
I'll show you simple-minded, asshole.
"Wish we knew how he got that eleven."
"Bet you lover boy knows."
The sound of Katsuki returning silenced them.
"Was she dead?" The boy from District 2 asked.
"No. But she is now," Katsuki said. Just then, a cannon fired. "Ready to move on?"
The Career pack set off at a run just as dawn began to break, and birdsong filled the air. (M/N) needed to get down, to get going, but for a moment he stayed there, digesting what he'd just heard. Not only was Katsuki with the Careers, but he was helping them find him too. The "simple-minded" boy who had to be taken seriously because of his eleven. Because he could use a bow and arrow. Which Katsuki knew better than anyone.
But he hadn't told them yet. Was he saving that information because he knew it was all that was keeping him alive? Was he still pretending to be in love with (M/N) for the audience? What was going on in his head?
Suddenly the birds fell silent. High above the dying campfire a hovercraft materialised. A large set of metal teeth dropped. Slowly, the dead tribute was lifted into the hovercraft, and then it vanished. The birds resumed their song.
(M/N) wiggled out of his sleeping bag, rolled it up, and placed it in his backpack. While he'd been concealed by darkness and the sleeping bag and the branches, (M/N) knew it would've been difficult for the cameras to get a good shot on him. But they would probably start tracking him now. The minute he hit the ground, he was guaranteed a close-up.
The audience would have been on the edge of their seats, knowing that (M/N) was in the tree, that he overheard the Careers talking, that he discovered Katsuki was with them. Until he worked out exactly how to deal with that, (M/N) decided it would be best to act like he was on top of the situation. Not confused or frightened.
So as he came down from the tree and into the dawn light, he paused, giving the cameras time to lock on to him. Then he looked up slightly and gave off a knowing smile. Leaving the audience figure out what it meant.
(M/N) was about to take off when he remembered his snares. Maybe it was stupid to check them when the others were so close, but he had to. Too many years of hunting he guessed, as well as the chance of possible meat, and to his luck he was rewarded with a rabbit. In no time, he'd cleaned and gutted the animal, leaving the unwanted parts in a pile of leaves. (M/N) went back to the spot he heard the now dead tribute from, and sure enough, the coals of her dying fire were still hot. He cut up the rabbit, grabbed some branches, and set them over the coals.
He was glad for the cameras now. He wanted sponsors to see he could hunt, that he was good because he wouldn't be lured into traps as easily as others would by hunger. While the rabbit cooked, (M/N) grinded up part of a charred branch and got to camouflaging his orange pack. The black toned it down, but he felt like a layer of mud would help. But to have mud, he'd need water.
(M/N) pulled on his gear, grabbed the rabbit, kicked some dirt over the coals, and took off in the opposite direction the Careers went. He ate half the rabbit as he went, then put away the leftovers for later. The meat stopped the grumbling in his stomach but did little to quench his thirst, water was his top priority at that point.
(M/N) was certain he was still holding the screen in the Capitol, so he made sure to continue to hide his emotions. But what a good time the audience must have been having, analysing Katsuki's behaviour and (M/N)'s reaction. Wondering what to make of it all. Though in the present, his head was going through dozens of thoughts at once. Had Katsuki revealed his true colours? How did this affect the betting odds? Would (M/N) lose sponsors? Did he even have sponsors? He felt certain he did.
Katsuki had certainly thrown a wrench into their star-crossed lovers dynamic. Or had he? (M/N) thought that maybe since the blonde hadn't spoken much about him, he might have still been able to get some mileage out of it. Maybe people would think it was something they plotted together since (M/N) seemed amused by the situation.
(M/N) spent the rest of the day wandering around in search for any source of water, but to no avail, once it had gotten dark and he could not bring himself to walk any longer, he took refuge in the closest tree and set-up for the night, before dozing off to sleep, convincing himself he would find some water tomorrow.
~
When morning came, (M/N) could barely bring himself to move, he felt so exhausted and dehydrated, it took every last bit of his strength to pack away his things and climb down the tree, though he failed after reaching the branch below him and simply fell to the ground, taking several minutes to get his body to move again.
He knew he should have been acting with caution, but his mind was foggy and forming any sort of plan seemed impossible. He leaned back against the tree and tried to come up with a way to find water.
He sorted through many options but none of them seemed possible, until he remembered that sponsors existed.
Shota could send me water! Press a single button and have it delivered to me in a silver parachute in minutes.
(M/N) knew he must have had sponsors, at least one or two that could afford half a litre of water to send him, but then something else crossed his mind.
If Shota could so easily send him water, why hadn't he done so already?
Was (M/N) wrong about having sponsors? Surely that couldn't be it, someone out there would want to send him water, but Shota was refusing to let it go through. Since Shota was (M/N)'s mentor, he was able to control the flow of gifts from the sponsors.
He knew Shota hated him, but did he really hate him so much that he would be willing to let (M/N) die? Somehow (M/N) doubted that. Why would Shota spend all that time trying to prepare him for this if he was just going to leave him to be offed when he could easily remove (M/N)'s dehydration?
Maybe he's sending me a message, a message saying what though?
(M/N) tried to understand Shota's actions, until his mind landed on a single thought.
There was only one good reason for him to withhold water from (M/N), because Shota knew he'd almost found it.
(M/N) grit his teeth and pulled himself to his feet before slowly trudging in one direction. The sun was beating down, seemingly hotter than it was the previous day. Every step (M/N) took required a lot of effort, but he refused to stop, he knew if he stopped there was a very low chance he would be able to get back up again.
(M/N) hoped he didn't run into any other tributes. Anyone, even little Wendy, could take him on right now. They would merely need to shove him over and kill him with his own knife. But if anyone was in (M/N)'s part of the woods, they ignored him. He doubted there was anyone though, since he felt like he was a million miles away from the closest tribute.
He did not feel alone though, he was sure that there was a camera following him, so unless there was a really good fight happening somewhere, he was getting featured.
(M/N) thought about Eri, he knew she wouldn't be watching the games live, but they would get updates at the school during lunch. For her sake, he tried his best not to look too desperate.
But by late afternoon, (M/N) knew his end was coming. His legs were shaking and he kept stumbling repeatedly, barely catching himself. After stepping on an uneven part of the ground, he finally fell over, unable to gather the strength to lift himself back up.
(M/N) let out a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes. It was at that moment that he finally came to the conclusion that Shota had no intention of helping him at all.
This is fine, (M/N) thought. This is an ok place to die. The air was not as hot as before, signifying evening's approach. He let his fingers slide across the smooth, slippery ground.
I love the mud, he thought. How many times it had helped him track game with the help of its soft, moldable surface. Mud. Mud. Mud! (M/N)'s eyes flew open as he dug his fingers into the ground. He lifted his head into the air, and saw pond lilies.
He began to crawl forward, dragging himself through the mud. Five metres from where he fell, there was a pond. It took all of (M/N)'s willpower not to plunge his face into the water and gulp down as much as he could. He knew he needed to purify it first.
With shaky hands, he grabbed the bottle from his backpack and filled it with water. He then added what he remembered to be the right number of iodine drops. After an agonising wait, he eased himself into drinking the water at a steady pace, once the bottle was empty, he repeated the process, multiple times until he had completely quenched his thirst. He filled his bottle one last time and put it away for later.
(M/N) walked a decent distance away from the pond, but not too far so that he could come back later, and climbed into a tree and set up for the night. (M/N) sat inside his sleeping bag while eating the remains of the rabbit that he had retrieved from his snare. No faces that night, which meant that no tributes had died during that day.
(M/N) once again wondered what Katsuki was doing, had he really teamed up with the careers, or was it just to keep himself alive? (M/N) didn't know, and he probably wouldn't find out, since he didn't plan on meeting up with the blonde at all.
(M/N) pushed those thoughts away and settled down in his sleeping bag, beginning to doze off.
After a few hours of sleeping, (M/N) awoke to what sounded like a stampede of feet, it was still early in the morning, so there wasn't much light, but after looking around, he realised he didn't need light to see what was going on.
After all it would be hard to miss the wall of fire that was quickly descending on him.
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