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Who the woman was calling to remained a mystery, because after searching the apartment, they found she was alone. Perhaps her cry was meant for a nearby neighbour, or was simply an expression of fear. At any rate, there was no one else to hear her.
The apartment would be a classy place to hole up for a while, but that was a luxury they couldn't afford. "How long do you think before they figure out some of us could've survived?" (M/N) asked.
"I think they could be here anytime," Shoto answered. "They knew we were heading for the streets. The explosion will probably throw them for a few minutes, then they'll start looking for our exit point."
(M/N) went to a window overlooking the street, and when he peeked through the blinds, he wasn't faced with Peacekeepers but with a bundled crowd of people going about their business. During their underground journey, they had left the evacuated zones far behind and surfaced in a busy section of the Capitol. This crowd offered their only chance of escape. (M/N) didn't have the Holo, but he had Ryuko. She joined him at the window, confirmed she knew their location, and gave (M/N) the good news that they weren't many blocks from the president's mansion.
One glance at his companions told him this was no time for a stealth attack on Nezu. Shoto was still losing blood from the neck wound - which they hadn't cleaned - and Denki could barely walk with his leg. Katsuki was sitting on a velvet sofa with his teeth clamped down on a pillow, seemingly fighting off madness. Tamaki weeped against the mantle of an ornate fireplace. Ryuko stood determinedly at his side, but she was so pale she looked like she would pass out at any moment. (M/N) was running on hate. When the energy for that ebbed, he would be worthless.
"Let's check her closets," (M/N) said.
In one bedroom they found hundreds of the woman's outfits, coats, pairs of shoes, a rainbow of wigs, enough make-up to paint a house. In a bedroom across the hall, there was a similar selection for men. Perhaps they belonged to her husband. Perhaps to a lover who had the good luck to be out this morning.
(M/N) called the others to dress. It was cold out, so they could conceal most of their uniforms and weapons under flowing coats and cloaks. They hung their boots around their necks by their laces to hide them, pulled on silly shoes to replace them. The real challenge, of course, was their faces. Ryuko and Tamaki ran the risk of being recognized by acquaintances, Shoto could be familiar from the propos and news, Denki was, well, Denki, and (M/N) and Katsuki were known by every citizen of Panem. They hastily helped one another apply thick layers of make-up, pulled on wigs and sunglasses. Ryuko wrapped scarves over Katsuki's and (M/N)'s mouths and noses.
He could feel the clock ticking away, but stopped for just a few moments to stuff pockets with food and first-aid supplies. "Will you be able to walk like that?" (M/N) asked Denki.
"No choice but to try," Denki said.
It would look suspicious to have him limping around outside. "Stick with me, I'll help you," (M/N) said. "Everyone stay together." Then, with (M/N) subtly keeping Denki upright, they marched through the front door right into the street. Snow flurries had begun to fall. Agitated people swirled around them, speaking of rebels and hunger and (M/N). They crossed the street, passed a few more apartments. Just as they turned the corner, three dozen Peacekeepers swept past them. They hopped out of their way, as the real citizens did, but waited until the crowd returned to its normal flow, and kept moving.
"Ryuko," (M/N) whispered. "Can you think of anywhere?"
"I'm trying," she said.
They covered another block, and the sirens began. Through an apartment window, (M/N) saw an emergency report and pictures of their faces flashing. They hadn't identified who in the party died yet, because he saw Eijiro among the photos. Soon every passerby would be as dangerous as a Peacekeeper. "Ryuko?"
"There's one place. It's not ideal. But we can try it," she said. They followed her a few more blocks and turned through a gate into what looked like a private residence. It was some kind of shortcut, though, because after walking through a manicured garden, they came out of another gate onto a small back street that connected two main avenues. There were a few poky stores - one that bought used goods, another that sold fake jewellery. They stopped before a grimy storefront filled with mannequins in furry underwear. The place didn't even look open, but Ryuko pushed through the front door, setting off a distant chiming. Inside the dim, narrow shop lined with racks of merchandise, the smell of pelts filled (M/N)'s nose. Business must have been slow, since they were the only customers. Ryuko headed straight for a hunched figure sitting in the back. (M/N) followed, trailing his fingers through the soft garments as they went.
Ryuko took off her wig. "Kinoko," She said. "We need your help. Kan said you could be trusted."
Great, she was one of Kan's people. So if her first move wasn't to turn them into the Capitol, it would be to notify Kan, and by extension Kaina, of their whereabouts. No, her shop wasn't ideal, but it was all they had at the moment. If she would even help them. She was peering between an old television on her counter and them, as if trying to place them. To help her, (M/N) pulled down his scarf and removed the wig.
She stared at him for a few seconds before hopping off the stool and disappearing behind a rack of fur-lined leggings. There was a sound of sliding, and then her hand emerged and waved them forward. (M/N) pushed around the furs and found she had slid back a panel at the base of the wall. Behind it seemed to be the top of a steep stone stairway. She gestured for him to enter.
Everything about the situation screamed trap. There were no alternatives, so he had to trust that she really was with Kan. He began to descend down the steps and his face ran into a hanging chain about halfway in. He pulled it, illuminating the hideout with a flickering fluorescent bulb. It was a small cellar with no doors or windows. Shallow and wide. Probably just a strip between two real basements. A place whose existence could go unnoticed unless you had a very keen eye for dimensions. It was cold, with piles of pelts that probably hadn't seen the light of day in years. Unless Kinoko gave them up, (M/N) didn't believe anyone would find them there. By the time he reached the concrete floor, his companions were on the steps. The panel slid back in place. (M/N) heard the underwear rack being adjusted on squeaky wheels. Kinoko padded back to her stool. They had been swallowed up by her store.
Just in time, too, because Shoto looked on the verge of collapse and Denki couldn't walk even remotely well after that. They made a bed of pelts, stripped off Shoto's layer of weapons, and helped him on to his back. At the end of the cellar, there was a faucet about half a metre from the floor with a drain under it. (M/N) turned the tap and, after much sputtering and a lot of rust, clear water began to flow. They cleaned Shoto's neck wound and (M/N) realised bandages wouldn't be enough. He was going to need a few stitches. There was a needle and sterile thread in the first-aid supplies, but what they lacked was a healer. That meant that (M/N) was probably the most qualified for the job. He grit his teeth, and put in a row of jagged sutures. It wasn't pretty but it was functional. (M/N) smeared it with medicine and wrapped it up. Gave him some pain killers. "You can rest now. It's safe here," (M/N) told him. He went out like a light.
Now for Denki. (M/N) made his way over to his other injured team member.
"You gonna tuck me in as well?" Denki said, before wincing at the pain his leg brought him.
(M/N) was glad Denki hadn't lost his humour. "I'll read you a bedtime story while I'm at it," (M/N) answered. The bandages around his leg were completely soaked with blood. (M/N) gingerly unwrapped them and tried not to throw up at the mutilated flesh underneath. He didn't see Denki get attacked by the mutts, but clearly they did a number on him. "How could you walk at all with this?"
"Trust me, it wasn't fun," Denki said.
(M/N) didn't see how he could stitch anything back together. This was way beyond his baseline level of skills. All he could do was put on some antiseptic and cover it with new bandages, giving Denki some painkillers. Then he did the same for Katsuki's wrists. "You've got to keep them clean, otherwise the infection could spread and-"
"I know what blood poisoning is, (M/N)," Katsuki said.
(M/N) thought back to the last time they had this conversation. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games."
"You risked your life getting the medicine that saved me. Real or not real?" Katsuki asked.
"Real," (M/N) shrugged. "You were the reason I was alive to do it."
"Was I?" The comment threw him into confusion. Some shiny memory must have been fighting for his attention, because his body tensed and his newly bandaged wrists strained against the metal cuffs. (M/N) left him to sleep soon after as Ryuko and Tamaki had made beds for them, arranged their food and medical supplies, and asked what (M/N) wanted to do about setting up a guard. He looked at Shoto's pallor, Denki's leg, and Katsuki's restraints. Tamaki hadn't slept for days, and Ryuko and (M/N) only napped for a few hours. If a troop of Peacekeepers were to come through that door, they would be completely trapped like rats. They were completely at the mercy of the woman upstairs.
"I honestly don't think there's any point in setting up a guard. Let's all just try to get some sleep," (M/N) said. The fire inside him had flickered out, and with it his strength.
~
When (M/N) woke up, Ryuko - who was also awake - told him it was late afternoon. He ate a can of beef stew and washed it down with a lot of water. Then he leaned against the cellar wall, retracing the events of the last day. Moving death by death. Counting them up on his fingers. One, two - Kosei and Mashirao lost on the block. Three - Izuku melted by the pod. Four, five - Yui and Ikara sacrificing themselves at the Meat Grinder. Six, seven - Eijiro and Juzo decapitated by the rose-scented lizard mutts. Seven dead in twenty-four hours. (M/N) knew it happened, and yet it didn't seem real.
To believe them dead was to accept he killed them. Well, maybe not Kosei and Mashirao - they died on an actual assignment. But the others lost their lives defending (M/N) on a mission he fabricated. His plot to assassinate Nezu seemed so stupid now. So stupid as he sat there shivering in the cellar, tallying up their losses, tracing the patterns on the shoes he stole from the woman's home. Oh, yeah - he forgot about that. He killed her, too. He was taking out unarmed citizens now.
(M/N) thought it was time to give himself up.
When everyone finally woke up. He confessed. How he lied about the mission, how he jeopardised everyone in pursuit of revenge. There was a long silence after he finished. Then Shoto said, "(M/N), we all knew you were lying about Kaina sending you to assassinate Nezu."
"You knew, maybe. The soldiers from Thirteen didn't," (M/N) replied.
"Do you really think Ikara believed you had orders from Kaina?" Ryuko asked. "Of course she didn't. But she trusted Mashirao, and he'd clearly wanted you to go on."
"I never even told Mashirao what I planned to do," (M/N) said.
"You told everyone in Command," Shoto said. "It was one of your conditions for being the Mockingjay. 'I kill Nezu.'"
Those seemed like two disconnected things. Negotiating with Kaina for the privilege of executing Nezu after the war and this unauthorised fight through the Capitol. "But not like this," (M/N) said. "It's been a complete disaster."
"I think it would be considered a highly successful mission," Denki said. "We've infiltrated the enemy camp, showing that the Capitol's defences can be breached. We've managed to get footage of ourselves all over the Capitol's news. We've thrown the whole city into chaos trying to find us."
"Trust me, Kan's thrilled," Ryuko added.
"That's because Kan doesn't care who dies," (M/N) said. "Not as long as his Games are a success."
Ryuko, Shoto and Denki went round and round trying to convince him. Tamaki nodded at their words. Only Katsuki didn't offer an opinion.
"What do you think, Katsuki?" (M/N) finally asked him.
"I think... you still have no idea. The effect you can have." He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Nezu."
(M/N) didn't know why Katsuki's voice reached him when no one else's could. But if he was right, and (M/N) thought he was, (M/N) owed the others a debt that could only be repaid in one way. He pulled his paper map from a pocket in his uniform and spread it out on the floor with new resolve. "Where are we, Ryuko?"
Kinoko's shop sat about five blocks from the City Circle and Nezu's mansion. They were in easy walking distance through a zone in which the pods were deactivated for the residents' safety. They had disguises that could get them safely there. But then what? The mansion was sure to be heavily guarded, under round-the-clock camera surveillance, and laced with pods that could become live at the flick of a switch.
"What we need is to get him out in the open," Shoto said. "Then one of us could pick him off."
"Does he ever appear in public anymore?" Denki asked.
"I don't think so," Ryuko said. "At least in all the recent speeches I've seen, he's been in the mansion. Even before the rebels got here. I imagine he became more vigilant after Denki aired his crimes."
"I bet he'd come out for me," (M/N) said. "If I were captured. He'd want that as public as possible. He'd want my execution on his front steps." He let that sink in. "Then Shoto could shoot him from the audience."
"No." Katsuki shook his head. "There are too many alternative endings to that plan. Nezu might decide to keep you and torture information out of you. Or have you executed publicly without being present. Or kill you inside the mansion and display your body out front."
"Shoto?" (M/N) said.
"It seems like an extreme solution to jump to immediately," he said. "Maybe if all else fails. Let's keep thinking."
In the quiet that followed, they heard Kinoko's soft footfall overhead. It must have been closing time. She was locking up, fastening the shutters maybe. A few minutes later, the panel at the top of the stairs slid open.
"Come up," she said. "I have some food for you."
Denki couldn't move with his leg anymore, so (M/N) promised to bring some food down to him. As the rest of them climbed the stairs, Ryuko asked, "Did you contact Kan?"
"No way to," Kinoko shrugged. "He'll figure out you're in a safe house. Don't worry."
Worry? (M/N) felt immensely relieved by the news that he wouldn't be given - and have to ignore - direct orders from 13. Or make up some viable defence for the decisions he had made over the last couple of days.
In the shop, the counter held some stale hunks of bread, a wedge of mouldy cheese, and half a bottle of mustard. It reminded (M/N) that not everyone in the Capitol had full stomachs these days. He felt obliged to tell Kinoko about their food supplies, but she waved his objections away, saying she usually ate next to nothing, anyway. So (M/N) just scraped the mould off the cheese and divided up the food among the rest of them.
While they ate, they watched the latest Capitol news coverage. The government had the rebel survivors narrowed down to the six of them. Huge bounties were offered for information leading to their capture. The reporters emphasised how dangerous they were. Showed them exchanging gunfire with the Peacekeepers, although not the mutts ripping off their heads.
The rebels let the Capitol broadcast run on uninterrupted. "Have the rebels made a statement today?" (M/N) asked Kinoko. She shook her head. "I doubt Kaina knows what to do with me now that I'm still alive."
Downstairs after supper, (M/N) gave Denki his portion while they continued to rack their brains for a plan. Nothing good came up, but they did agree that they could no longer go out as a group of five and that they should try to infiltrate the president's mansion before (M/N) turned himself into bait. He consented to that second point to avoid further argument. If he did decide to give himself up, it wouldn't require anyone else's permission or participation.
They changed bandages and settled down to sleep. A few hours later, (M/N) slipped into consciousness and became aware of a quiet conversion between Katsuki and Shoto. He couldn't stop himself from eavesdropping.
"Can't sleep?" Katsuki asked.
"No," Shoto said. "And when I do I always wake up at least ten times throughout the night."
"To make sure (M/N) is still here?" Katsuki said.
"Something like that," Shoto admitted.
There was a long pause before Katsuki spoke again. "He loves you, you know. He as good as told me after they whipped you."
"Don't believe it," Shoto answered. "The way he kissed you in the Quarter Quell... Well, he never kissed me like that."
"It was just part of the show," Katsuki told him, although there was an edge of doubt in his voice.
"No. You won him over. Gave up everything for him. Maybe that's the only way to convince him you love him." There was a long pause. "I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected him then."
"You couldn't," Katsuki said. "He'd have never forgiven you. You had to take care of his family. They matter more to him than his life."
"Well, it won't be an issue much longer. I think it's unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it's (M/N)'s problem. Who to choose." Shoto yawned. "Guess I'll try to sleep."
"Yeah." (M/N) heard Katsuki lie down as well. "I wonder how he'll make up his mind."
"Oh, that I do know." (M/N) could just catch Shoto's last words echoing no louder than a whisper. "(M/N) will pick whoever he thinks he can't survive without."
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