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The stink of unwashed bodies and infection broke through the cloud of antiseptic. The guard was ordering (M/N) out, but by the shuffling that followed, (M/N) knew Shoto had somehow detained him.
"What happened?" (M/N) asked his prep team. "What are you doing here?"
"They took us. From the Capitol."
Kan entered behind (M/N). "What on earth is going on?"
"Who took you?" (M/N) pressed.
"People, the night you broke out."
"We thought it might be comforting for you to have your regular team," Kan said behind (M/N). "Keigo requested it."
"Keigo requested this?" (M/N) snarled at the man. Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that Keigo would never have approved the abuse of these three, who he managed with gentleness and patience. "Why are they being treated like criminals?"
"I honestly don't know." There was something in his voice that made (M/N) believe him. Kan turned to the guard, who just appeared in the doorway with Shoto right behind him. "I was only told they were being confined. Why are they being punished?"
"For stealing food. We had to restrain them after an altercation over some bread," the guard said.
A voice from the preps spoke up behind (M/N). "No one would tell us anything. We were so hungry. It was only one slice she took."
"That seems extreme," Kan said.
"It's because they took a slice of bread?" Shoto asked.
"There were repeated infractions leading up to that. They were warned. Still they took more bread." The guard paused for a moment, as if puzzled by their density. "You can't take bread."
(M/N) observed his team members. They were covered in bruises and the skin under the shackles revealed raw sores. "I'm bringing you guys to my mother." (M/N) addressed the guard. "Unchain them."
The guard shook his head. "It's not authorised."
"Unchain them! Now!" (M/N) yelled.
This broke the guard's composure. Average citizens didn't address him this way. "I have no release orders. And you have no authority to-"
"Do it on my authority," Kan said. "We came to collect these three anyway. They're needed for Special Defence. I'll take full responsibility."
The guard left to make a call. He returned with a set of keys. The preps had been forced into cramped positions for so long that even once the shackles were removed, they had trouble walking. Shoto, Kan and (M/N) had to help them. (M/N) noticed a metal grate over a circular opening in the floor, and his stomach turned when he thought about why a room would need a drain. The stains of human misery that must have been hosed off those white tiles...
In the hospital, (M/N) found his mother, the only one he trusted to care for them. It took her a minute to place the three, given their current condition, but already she had a look of consternation. And (M/N) knew it wasn't the result of seeing abused bodies, because they were her daily fare in District 12, but the realisation that this sort of thing went on in 13 as well.
(M/N)'s mother was welcomed into the hospital, but she was viewed as more of a nurse than a doctor, despite her lifetime of healing. Still, no one interfered when she guided the trio into an examination room to assess their injuries. (M/N) planted himself on a bench in the hall outside the hospital entrance, waiting to hear her verdict. She would be able to read in their bodies the pain inflicted upon them.
Shoto sat next to (M/N) and put an arm around his shoulder. "She'll fix them up." (M/N) gave a nod, wondering if Shoto was thinking about his own brutal flogging back in 12.
Kan and his assistant took the bench across from them but didn't offer any comments on the state of (M/N)'s prep team. If they had no knowledge of the mistreatment, then what did they make of this move on President Kaina's part? (M/N) decided to help them out.
"I guess we've all been put on notice," (M/N) said.
"What? No. What do you mean?" Kan's assistant asked.
"Punishing my prep team was a warning," (M/N) told her. "Not just to me. But to you, too. About who's really in control and what happens if she's not obeyed. If you had any delusions about having power. I'd let them go now. Apparently, a Capitol pedigree is no protection here. Maybe it's even a liability."
"There is no comparison between Kan, who master-minded the rebel breakout, and those three beauticians," Kan's assistant said icily.
(M/N) shrugged. "If you say so. But what would happen if you got on Kaina's bad side? My prep team was kidnapped. They can at least hope to one day return to the Capitol. Shoto and I can live in the woods. But you? Where would you two run?"
"Perhaps we're a little more necessary to the war effort than you give us credit for," Kan said, unconcerned.
"Of course you are. The tributes were necessary to the Games, too. Until they weren't," (M/N) said. "And then we were very disposable - right, Kan?"
That ended the conversation. They waited in silence until (M/N)'s mother found them. "They'll be all right," she reported. "No permanent physical injuries."
"Good. Splendid," Kan said. "How soon can they be put to work?"
"Probably tomorrow," she answered. "You'll have to expect some emotional instability, after what they've been through. They were particularly ill prepared, coming from their life in the Capitol."
"Weren't we all?" Kan said.
Either because the prep team was incapacitated or (M/N) was too on edge, Kan released him from Mockingjay duties for the rest of the day. Shoto and (M/N) headed down to lunch, where they were served bean and onion stew, a thick slice of bread and a cup of water. Neither of them spoke much during lunch, but when their bowls were clean, Shoto pulled up his sleeve, revealing his schedule. "I've got training next."
(M/N) tugged up his sleeve. "Me, too." He remembered that training equaled hunting now.
His eagerness to escape into the woods, if only for two hours, overcame his current concerns. An immersion into greenery and sunlight would surely help him sort out his thoughts. Once off the main corridors, Shoto and (M/N) raced like school children for the armoury, and by the time they arrived, (M/N) was breathless and dizzy. A reminder that he was not fully recovered. The guards provided their old weapons, as well as knives and a burlap sack that was meant for game. (M/N) tolerated having the tracker clamped to his ankle, tried to look as if he was listening when they explained how to use the handheld communicator. The only thing that stuck in his head was that it had a clock, and they had to be back inside 13 by the designated hour or their hunting privileges would be revoked. That was one rule he would make an effort to abide by.
They went outside into the large, fenced-in training area beside the woods. Guards opened the well-oiled gates without comment. They would be hard-pressed to get past that fence on their own - ten metres high and always buzzing with electricity, topped with razor-sharp curls of steel. They moved through the woods until the view of the fence had been obscured. In a small clearing, they paused and dropped their heads back to bask in the sunlight. (M/N) turned in a circle, his arms extended at his sides, revolving slowly so as not to set the world spinning.
The lack of rain (M/N) saw in 12 had damaged the plants here as well, leaving some with brittle leaves, building a crunchy carpet under their feet.
They hunted, like they did in the old days. Silent, needing no words to communicate, because here in the woods they moved as two parts of one being. Anticipating each other's movements, watching each other's backs. How long has it been? Eight months? Nine? Since they had this freedom? It wasn't exactly the same, given all that had happened and the trackers on their ankles and the fact that (M/N) had to rest so often. But it was about as close to happiness as he thought he could currently get.
The animals here were not nearly suspicious enough. That extra moment it took for them to place the unfamiliar scent meant their death. In an hour and a half, the two got a mixed dozen - rabbits, squirrels and turkeys - and decided to knock off to spend the remaining time by a pond that must have been fed by an underground spring, since the water was cool and sweet.
When Shoto offered to clean the game, (M/N) didn't object. He stuck a few mint leaves on his tongue, closed his eyes and leaned back against a rock, soaking in the sound, letting the scorching afternoon sun burn his skin, almost at peace until Shoto's voice interrupted him. "(M/N), why do you care so much about your prep team?"
(M/N) opened his eyes to see if he was joking, but Shoto was frowning down at the rabbit he was skinning. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Hm. Let's see. Because they've spent the last year styling you up for slaughter?" he suggested.
"It's more complicated than that. I know them. They're not evil or cruel. They're not even smart. Hurting them, it's like hurting children. They don't see... I mean, they don't know..." he got caught up in his own words.
"They don't know what, (M/N)?" Shoto said. "That tributes - who are the actual children involved here, not your trio of freaks - are forced to fight to the death? That you were going into that arena for people's amusement? Was that a big secret in the Capitol?"
"No. But they don't view it the way we do," (M/N) said. "They're raised on it and-"
"Are you actually defending them?" Shoto slipped the skin from the rabbit in one quick move.
That stung, because, in fact, (M/N) was, and it was ridiculous. He struggled to find a logical position. "I guess I'm defending anyone who's treated like that for taking a slice of bread. Maybe it reminds me too much of what happened to you over a turkey!"
Still, Shoto was right. (M/N) did feel strange, with the level of concern he had over his prep team. He should hate them and want to see them strung up, but they were so clueless, and they belonged to Keigo, and he was on (M/N)'s side...
"I'm not looking for a fight," Shoto said. "But I don't think Kaina was sending you some big message by punishing them for breaking the rules here. She probably thought you'd see it as a favour." He stuffed the rabbit in the sack and rose. "We better get going if we want to make it back on time."
(M/N) ignored Shoto's offer of a hand up and got to his feet unsteadily. "Fine." Neither of them talked on the way back, but once they were inside the gate, (M/N) thought of something else. "During the Quarter Quell, my prep team had to quit because they couldn't stop crying over me going back in. They could barely say goodbye."
"I'll try and keep that in mind as they... remake you," Shoto said.
"Do," (M/N) said.
They handed the meat over to the workers in the kitchen and (M/N) made straight for his compartment only to find it stripped bare. He then remembered that they had been moved because of Buttercup. He made his way to the top floor and found Compartment E. It looked exactly like Compartment 307, except for the window half a metre wide, twenty centimetres high centred at the top of the outside wall. There was a heavy metal plate that fastened over it, but right now it was propped open and a certain cat was nowhere to be seen. (M/N) stretched out on his bed, and a shaft of afternoon sunlight played on his face. The next thing he knew, his sister was waking him up for 18:00 - Reflection.
Eri told him that they had been announcing the assembly since lunch. The entire population, except for those needed for essential jobs, were required to attend. They followed directions to the Collective, a huge room that easily held the thousands who showed up. It was definitely built for a larger gathering, and perhaps it held one before the pox epidemic. Eri quietly pointed out the widespread fallout from that disaster - the pox scars on people's bodies, the slightly disfigured children. "They've suffered a lot here," she said.
After this morning, (M/N) was in no mood to feel sorry for 13. "No more than we did in Twelve," he said. He saw his mother lead in a group of mobile patients, still wearing their hospital gowns and robes. Denki stood among them looking dazed. In his hands he held a piece of thin rope, less than half a metre in length, too short for him to fashion into a usable noose. His fingers moved rapidly, automatically tying and unravelling various knots as he gazed about. Probably part of his therapy. (M/N) crossed to him.
"Hey, Denki." Denki didn't seem to notice, so (M/N) nudged him to get his attention. "Denki! How are you doing?"
"(M/N)," Denki said, gripping his hand. Relieved to see a familiar face, maybe. "Why are we meeting here?"
"I told Kaina I'd be her Mockingjay. But I made her promise to give the other tributes immunity if the rebels won," (M/N) told him. "In public, so there are plenty of witnesses."
"Oh. Good. Because I worry about that with Kyoka. That she'll say something that could be interpreted as traitorous without knowing it," Denki said.
Kyoka. Uh-oh. Totally forgot about her. "Don't worry. I took care of it." (M/N) gave Denki's hand a squeeze and headed straight for the podium at the front of the room. Kaina, who was glancing over her statement, raised her eyebrows. "I need you to add Kyoka Jirou to the immunity list," (M/N) told her.
The president frowned slightly. "Who's that?"
"She's Denki Kaminari's-" What? (M/N) didn't really know what to call her. "She's Denki's friend. From District Four. Another victor. She was arrested and taken to the Capitol when the arena blew up.
"Oh, the mad girl. That's not really necessary," Kaina said. "We don't make a habit of punishing anyone that frail."
(M/N) thought of the scene he walked in on that morning. His prep team huddled against the wall. How Kaina must have vastly different definitions of frailty. But (M/N) only said, "No? Then it shouldn't be a problem to add Kyoka."
"All right," Kaina said, scribbling in Kyoka's name. "Do you want to be up here with me for the announcement?" (M/N) shook his head. "I didn't think so. Better hurry and lose yourself in the crowd. I'm about to begin." (M/N) made his way back to Denki.
Words were another thing not wasted in 13. Kaina called the audience to attention and told them (M/N) had consented to be the Mockingjay, provided the victors - Katsuki, Neito, Illona and Kyoka - would be granted full pardon for any damage they did to the rebel cause. In the rumbling of the crowd, (M/N) heard the dissent. He supposed no one doubted he would want to be the Mockingjay. So naming a price - one that spared possible enemies - angered them. He stood indifferent to the hostile looks thrown his way.
The president allowed a few moments of unrest, and then continued in her brisk fashion. Only now the words coming out of her mouth were news to (M/N). "But in return for this unprecedented request, Soldier (L/N) has promised to devote himself to our cause. It follows that any deviance from his mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the four victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would his own. Thank you."
In other words, if (M/N) stepped out of line they were all dead.
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