Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He awakes at the break of dawn to take care of the animals, as usual. They are one of the very few families that is lucky enough to have a goat and two chickens. He's in charge of them and never lets them out of his sight.
Today shouldn't be any different.
He never really was an early riser. It was just necessary.
He tries to smooth his hair down, running his hands through it. As he sits up he notices that his little sister has yet to open her eyes. Like her brother, she always has morning chores, but today Koushi decides to not bother her from her slumber until it's truly time.
After stretching and putting on his "dressy" clothes (a white button-up shirt, brown hand me down slacks from his father - the patched-up areas are easily traceable and the fabric between the upper part of his thighs is nearly ripped from the years of friction - and black shoes), he shuffled to the barn, right next to their house, letting the morning cold seep through him. In the distance, he could make out the faint crying of a crow.
After feeding the animals he proceeded to wake his mother. He crossed the wooden aisle of his home on his tiptoes, silently praying the quite loud creaks that his feet created with the placement of the lightest of pressure on the ground sounded deafening only to his ears.
He opens a door that leads to her bedroom and walks towards the sleeping figure laying on the edge of a once aristocratic queen-sized bed.
He whispers next to her ear with a light shake on the shoulder.
"Mom, mom wake up"
Slowly abandoning her unconscious state, her eyes flutter open and she places a hand on his cheek.
"Okay, I'm up" her voice raspy, but ever so sweet.
It always calms him down.
"Should I make breakfast or..."
"You just get ready. I'll take care of everything else"
She sends him off, even though he was pretty much prepared and had nothing else to do, while quickly moving to the kitchen after throwing a robe on.
Her ashen blond hair, tied up in a bun and slightly out of shape from sleep matches her son’s completely. He wears his hair in a half up half down ponytail, since it is too short to properly wear up and too long to stay down without bothering him.
After a while everyone gathers at the old kitchen table. His mother sits at the crown, with her children on her sides. They are enjoying a rich meal, eating and drinking anything their hearts desire. They each have a big plate in front of them, filled with olives and nuts, a fried egg, a piece of cheese and even two slices of bread with butter. Rich orange juice drenches their thirst. It's kind of a tradition to go all out on this day. His mother will cover it up by saying that she does it simply because “the customers were very generous with their tips this week", even though in reality she spends her entire savings to provide them with this luxurious meal every year, risking not being able to pay for taxation.
It's an attempt to make all three of them forget. It didn't pay off much early on, but now it was one of the reasons he didn't go crazy on that morning, every year.
Maybe it's because the first time for everything is always more challenging.
His sister hums in approval, stuffing herself with food.
"Mom, this is great"
"I'm glad you like it, dear"
No-one looks up from their meal, making sure to wipe even the smallest traces of oil with the bread, relishing every bite.
The door to their garden is open, so that the autumn breeze provides them with coolness. The sun had risen completely, signaling for life to bloom again in the forest in which their house was located. One could smell the growing grass, wet after last night’s rain, the fat droplets occasionally slipping from the tree leaves and splashing on the ground forcefully.
He loves this.
But this year he couldn't shake this feeling. This strange slowly suffocating tightness around his throat accompanied by a persistent tenseness weighing on his shoulders. He tries to convince himself that it's probably nothing and that he's just extremely anxious.
And he had every right to be.
Every year, in the grand assembly at the district square he feels his heart jumping out of his chest as the name of the male tribute is announced. When he was fourteen, a boy named Sugawara Tetsurou was called and he almost had a nervous breakdown because they shared the surname and he was sure that they were going to say "Sugawara Koushi"
But they didn't.
So he can only reassure himself that he is safe.
It's one name amongst hundreds. They will never pick him.
They finish up quietly. Having a full stomach was good for a change. The last time they ate three wholesome meals in a day was probably way before he was old enough to be a tribute.
Now they wait.
The idle conversation between his mother and sister slowly fades away, as he loses himself in his thoughts.
His rather pessimistic and desperate thoughts.
Like every time, when the bells of the local chapel ring throughout the district, all boys and girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen will meet at the central square, where two tributes will be randomly chosen to compete in this year’s Hunger Games. Every district sends a young man and woman to represent their homeland in a kill or get killed survival game, with only one winner coming on top.
This annual happening occurred as punishment of the twelve districts that rebelled unsuccessfully against the Capitol, the heart and capital city of Panem.
If luck was by his side, his name would not be mentioned and he'd only have to worry about this nerve-wrecking process two more times.
It can't be me.
It won't be me.
I don't have to worry.
Yet, here he is, fidgeting and messing with the end of his shirt with his fingers, like the first time when he was twelve and scared out of his mind again.
He really didn't know the reason of his uncontrolled nervousness. He thought that after four times he would know that getting worked up won't do anything to solve the problem.
Actually, he can't do anything to solve this problem.
One of his biggest worries is his sister. She is barely 11 years old and if he got chosen, if he died, she would be left by herself.
It's not like his mom wouldn't keep her company and raise her to become an amazing person, but it'd be different if he weren't around.
He was the one that beat the children that made fun of her to a pulp when they were younger.
He was the one that told her funny stories and hugged her to sleep during the winter, when the cold would make it impossible to move and they were wrapped up into the only blanket they had, because they sold the rest to buy bread and salt.
He was the one who listened to her cry her eyes out on his shoulder when their father died of hunger two years prior.
It's always been Koushi and Suzume. It can't be just Suzume.
His mother's delicate hands landed on his shoulders, returning him to the present and rubbing small circles to distract him.
"Koushi..." she offers, her voice tinged with a barely noticeable reprimand.
He knows...
He's acting like a spoiled, ungrateful child. They've been over this so many times.
Worrying will only make matters worse, both for you and those around you.
Meaning his family.
Meaning Suzume.
He can't afford to be miserable. What will she think?
If he's unhappy she's unhappy and vice versa. That had never changed since the day she was born.
That would also explain her own antsy behavior and glances to her older brother that aren’t unobserved.
But he can’t look her in the eye. Not with all the panic flooding his chest.
"I know..."he murmurs, staring out the small window over the sink, into the void.
It'll be fine.
He turns to his mother and his honey-brown eyes meet hers.
"I know" he repeats more confidently, although he didn't succeed in convincing himself that everything is going to work out.
He gazes at Suzume and she flashes him a reassuring smile. He imitates her expression.
It'll be fine
It'll be fine
It'll be fi-
Loud chimes shake him out of his thoughts and he flinches.
"I'll put away the dishes. You two go" his sister steps away from the table abruptly.
Koushi gets up and approaches her, wrapping his arms around her back and burying his nose in her hair. She hugs back tightly, her head resting securely on his chest. He knows that she can probably hear his heart thumping in an insanely fast rhythm, but nothing is mentioned about it.
"Onii-chan..." the sound is muffled by his body.
"Yeah?"
"There will be soup ready when you get home, okay?"
He blinks away the tears before they have a chance of falling down his cheeks.
"Okay", he whispers.

Chapter Text

The walk to the square is relatively short, but right now it feels like an endless journey. Koushi drags his feet as slowly as he can manage, hoping that he would miss the annual reaping if he presented himself too late. Running away has been considered as an alternative several times during the last five minutes but he knows that isn't a real option. They would find him and probably beat him to death.

He and his mother take their final turn right to a wide muddy street after entering the small town next to their home. The forest is right next to it and he can see his high school a few blocks away.

It was close to the assembly spot, after all.

Small wooden houses to his left and right are left vacant as the potential tributes walk silently accompanied by their parents and siblings.

His mother insisted that they didn't bring Suzume along, not wanting her to witness such a sight. The crowd stares apathetically every year when the chosen boy and girl move to the stage.

At the same time, family members wail and scream in desperation.

Koushi didn't even try to object to this in the past, although he wants to hold her hand during this walk every year and hear her say stupid jokes that she had just made up to take their minds off everything like she always does.

Right now he would like to hold anyone's hand. But he couldn't do that. He's sixteen, he's not a child anymore. He doesn't have the right to hold onto anything.

Though he wishes he did.

They’re almost there, the two separate lines for registration are easily visible and his pulse quickening at an alarming rate.

What's wrong with me? I've done this so many times

His stomach's tied into a heavy knot that refuses to allow him to come to his senses. His mother places a hand on his shoulder and he immediately tenses.

"Koushi" her tone is stern, trying to convey some of her encouragement to her obviously very upset son.

"I'm fine, mom" he chokes out staring her dead in the eyes.

Stop it or I'll cry

Her lips twist upwards slightly. She is fully aware of his frantic state, but chooses to not comment on it.  The sound of his name coming out of her mouth has always been enough to discipline him.

To be fair, she knows he didn't do anything wrong, but she also can’t provide the compassion he needs so much. Saeko Sugawara is not a tender woman. Her adoration for her children is never-ending, however she can't seem to bring herself to prefer cuddles more than tough love.

She hugged her son more frequently in the past, but the nights spent crying silently after her husband's death, using a pillow to muffle her voice so that her children won't wake up, the days on which she gave them ice that hung from the roof of their house to suck on and drink for breakfast because there was no other way of forgetting their hunger didn't let her anymore. Koushi is her rock, he never stopped working, trying his best to be responsible and take care of her and his sister.

In contradiction to the image of her son in her mind comes the paleness covering his face reminding her that he is still a teenager. A petrified boy.

Her kid is petrified and she can't do anything about it.

That is why she can't handle being tender anymore. If she gets tender now she will cry. And then Koushi will cry.

She has had a bad feeling about this ever since he woke her up this morning. She doesn't know why, but it's there, like a shadow, hidden in her son's eyes and his every little move.

They both feel like something terrible is about to happen.

Suddenly they are there, right at the end of the line, the place where they always share their goodbyes, almost knowing it's only for a little while.

But this time might not be the same.

She draws him into her arms, their cheeks resting on one another. He squeezes her lightly, and she tightens her grip.

Eyes lock and smiles fade when her blue vibrant orbs shine into his slightly dull ones.

"I will see you when it's over"

He nods and they part ways. 

*

Registration was quick and he takes his place in a chaotic mass of boys and young men, far away from the stage in front of him. There are two big glass bowls filled to the brim with pieces of paper that contain the names of all the children in his district; one for the girls and one for the boys.

Everyone seems to have taken their place and it's about to begin.

Koushi can feel his mother's penetrative stare, can sense the heavy aroma of fear lingering in the air. He hasn't seen any of his friends while waiting in line and can’t stop himself from worrying.

How his friends' presence is going to save him from this is beyond him. He's just looking for a familiar face. After all, he isn't the only one in agony of eminent doom crashing upon him and, although sickening, he is content that he isn’t facing this alone. But he can't make out anyone from the crowd, as much as he cranes his neck to see further into the front part of the formation. Or maybe he just can't clear his head enough to scan the area carefully with his eyes. He might not see them, but he knows they are here somewhere.

In the past, he thought that he would place his friends and family above everything else, giving it his all to save them and make them happy.

It’s astonishing how fear can turn people against each other, it crosses his mind, as wishes like “anyone except me would be fine” flood his mind.

Everyone goes silent, waiting the escort of the district to make an appearance and pick a name from each bowl and determine who will go to the Hunger Games. A few murmurs spread across the humid atmosphere. It is almost noon and although autumn is well in, there is no breeze and the sun is blazing over their heads. Somewhere in the distance an occasional sniffle could be heard.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself.

It'll be fine

The chances of me getting picked are so low I should probably not even worry

He takes another breath.

Breath, after breath, after breath, after breath.

"Welcome everyone, to the reaping of the 25th annual Hunger Games!" a loud voice booms and makes Koushi's heart travel to his throat. The voice itself is quite high pitched for a man and as he turns his focus to him he finds out that his stature is quite a small one. The escort this year appears to be of medium height and weight and lacking stage presence, to say the least. His movements were stiff and the slight smile on his face revealed his awkward character. Big thick framed glasses hang high up his nose - so noticeable that Koushi could see them from about twenty meters back.

He stands between the bowls and fiddles with his microphone on a base that travels up to his nose. He adjusts the height and coughs lightly.

"My name is Takeda Itetsu and I am this year's escort of district eleven."

Although he is assisted by speakers, Koushi still finds it hard to decipher his words. Each sentence starts off strong, but fades away towards the end. Not that he doesn't know what Takeda is talking about. It's the standard yearly speech given by the assigned escort, praising Capitol and the constitution of the Hunger Games. He has read it in his textbooks at school and heard it so many times it's been stamped in his mind at this point.

Beads of sweat trickle down his spine as he awaits for him to finally get on with the actual reaping process. Bits and pieces of the escort's words reach his ears as he fights to stay calm.

"...are very excited to have..."

It'll be fine

"...the Capitol thanks you for your continuous efforts..."

It'll be fine

"...the Hunger Games are here to remind the districts..."

It'll be fine

"...we wish you the best of luck..."

Nursery rhymes he used to sing to his sister come to his mind. He recalls the melody but all the lyrics have left him. He tries to hum the tune, but his mouth is dry.

"And now, we shall choose this year's tributes for district eleven!"

They always start with the girls. He is torn between praying for no-one who he knew to be called upon and praying for someone strong to get picked, so that he can have a competent teammate in case he goes with them as well. After all, most of the victors didn't make it alone, but with their partner from their district.

He doesn't have time to make the decision as Takeda shoves his hand into the bowl to his left, going elbow deep and coming out with a small piece of paper.

He approaches the mic.

"The female tribute of district eleven for the 25th annual Hunger Games is Shimizu Kiyoko-san!"

Koushi doesn't even recognize that name.

A delicate figure walks across the space between the two teams. Her hair is pitch black and reaches to her shoulders, contrasting her pale complexion. She wears a light blue dress that reaches her ankles. The distance between them is far too big to tell how she's feeling by her face.

He mentally kicks himself.

How would she be feeling after realising that she's possibly just heard her death sentence?

She climbs the stairs to the side of the stage, standing next to Takeda. He could almost laugh if he weren't paralyzed by his nerves. Kiyoko is about his age; however, she seems to be quite taller than the man next to her.

The escort clears his throat.

"So, Shimizu-san, how old are you?" he tries to keep a neutral, almost cheerful expression, though one can tell the pity in his voice.

"Seventeen" she replies, standing completely still.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Let's move on with our male tribute!"

Oh God

He thinks about bursting into a run, right here, right now, but he can't seem to move his limbs. He wants his sister and mother. He wants to hide. He wants to go home.

He doesn't want to go away.

His insides are about to explode, leaving nothing but three words in his heart, ringing inside of him like a chant.

Please not me

Please not me

Please not me

Please not me

Please not me

"The male tribute of district eleven..."

Please

"...for the 25th annual Hunger Games..."

not

"is..."

me

"Sugawara Koushi-san!"

Oh God

Chapter Text

"Sugawara Koushi-san!"

No

"Come on up here!"

No way

There's no way

All colour leaves his cheeks as he walks to Takeda.

He can't believe this.

The crowd opens up to let him pass, giving him looks of compassion, trying to mask the relief bubbling inside them. Koushi can't blame them. In fact, he would do the same thing if he were in their shoes.

But he's not.

He's the male tribute of the 25th annual Hunger Games.

His legs refuse to move fluently and he stands next to Kiyoko like a lifeless, stiff block. They share a look, her glassy gray eyes piercing his. His gaze turns to the rest of the safe teenagers, the boy desperately trying to find his mother's head of fare hair.

"Sugawara-san, how old are you?" he barely hears Takeda addressing him.

"Sixteen" he doesn't even recognise his voice as he replies. Up close, the escort is much shorter than Koushi initially assumed. His height barely reaches his jaw.

"Splendid! District eleven has very good chances this year! Everyone, I present to you your tributes for the 25th annual Hunger Games!"

He joins the two teens' hands and raises them in the air, knowing very well they are in too much of a shock to do it on their own even if he asked them to.

Everyone salutes them, raising three fingers in the air, a sign of solidarity and anger towards this whole thing.

And that's when Koushi sees her. 

He can't tell if she's crying due to the distance between them, although her shoulders seem to be shaking slightly. 

Everything she has ever said to him comes to his memory and he wonders if the conversation they are about to have in the private vehicle that will transfer him and Kiyoko to the Capitol will be their last.

Normally the "performance" should end by now, but the escort opens his mouth again, before the mass of now safe from reaping children has a chance to disperse.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we might be over with our procedure, but I have important news to carry to you from President Snow himself."

The square erupts in concerned murmurs.

"Settle down, please." Various peace keepers surrounding them bark threats and silence falls heavy.

"As you all know, this year we mark the 25th anniversary of the Hunger Games. In order to celebrate there will be a little twist in the event."

Koushi's heart sinks to his stomach.

How could they possibly make this worse?

"This special edition of the Games, the Quarter Quell, has a specific rule. Every tribute will not be competing with the respective male or female from their district, but will collaborate with one person that does not come from their homeland. That means that Sugawara-san and Shimizu-san will not be competing together..."

Shouts of protest cover Takeda's voice and fade only once heavy rifles are turned to every member of the crowd to enforce quiet.

So much for Peace keeping, Koushi can't help thinking.

It doesn't really matter to him. That black haired girl really seems nice and would make an excellent partner, but whatever twist there is, it doesn't take away the fact that this might be his last day in his home.

He had a bad feeling about this and he was right to do so.

He feels so numb.

"They will not be competing together, but with a randomly assigned tribute from another district. It is not obligatory that a team consists of a young man and woman. That is all."

Kiyoko slips another look at Koushi, like saying goodbye.

Good luck, he tries to convey with his eyes.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

*

They get ten minutes with their families before they are sent off.

He has so much he wants to say, but there's no time.

The mini van barely has space for himself, his mother, Kiyoko and her parents.

Fear washes over mother and son as they grip each other tightly by the elbows.

He lets panic take over his body.

It is evident that she has been crying, but right now she puts on a brave face for him. 

"Koushi" she shakes him slightly.

He must tell her. He must tell her before it's too late.

"Mom, I...just...take care of Suzume and the animals...sell-sell my clothes and my bed if you have to...and...tell her that I love her..."
"Koushi" she interrupts.

There she does it again. He really doesn't have a clue how that little word can have so much power over his actions.

"Yeah?"

"I will take care of Suzume and I will tell her you love her but I will not sell anything that's yours because you will need it when you come home, okay?"

She takes his head in her arms, stroking his hair.

"You will come home, okay?"

He nods weakly.

"Promise me"

He can't do that. He wishes he could, but unfortunately he can't.

She pulls her son's face so that it is right across hers and cupped in her hands.

"Promise me, Koushi"

However, he also can't say no to her.

"I promise" he whispers.

''Good'' a smile flashes his way 

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you"

They embrace each other for what he believes is the last time and the words he craved ever since his father breathed his last breath finally fill his ears.

"I love you too, baby." 

Chapter Text

Koushi and Kiyoko find out soon enough that, the designated van will be their means of transportation until they arrive at the train station, where they will complete the rest of their journey to the Capitol by train.

They sit across Takeda, who tries to make himself comfortable on his large seat and flashes the occasional encouraging smile.

He looks out the window to the rice fields stretching across the valley. The sky mingles with the grassland, mixing shades of blue with pure green.

District eleven is in charge of agriculture, supplying the whole of Panem with rice, corn and cotton.

His family is an exception to the rule, the only people who live so close to the woods -practically in the forest- and who do not own any land.

His eyes follow the workers who are no bigger than dots, losing them and finding new ones as the vehicle moves, setting everything outside of it in motion. 

"So" the escort almost squeaks, "do you kids have any siblings?"

"No" Kiyoko croacks, tears evident in her tone, but no-one consults her.

"I see...how about you, Sugawara-kun?"

Koushi locks eyes with him, not even trying to sound polite.

"I have a little sister"

He has no obligation to like this person. This person hand picked him to get executed.

Literally.

"Oh, how nice! And how old is she?"

A glare is directed to his way and Takeda flinches slightly.

"She's eleven"

"Ah..." the man laughs nervously, sensing the hostility in the boy's aura.

"So next year she..."

"Yes" he is cut off.

A victor is safe from future reaping, as are their siblings and future children. If Koushi wins, Suzume will never have to go through this nightmare. However, if he fails to come out on top, there is a probability his sister will face the same fate as him.

And that makes his stomach churn.

How dare he ask him about his family and personal life? What nerve does it take to pry on someone else's matters under these circumstances?

No further attempt at conversation follows after that and a few minutes later they board the train to Panem's capital city. The train seems quite minimalist at first, but upon taking one step inside, the two teenagers find themselves stunned at the luxurious wagon, decorated with colourful furniture and wide windows. A buffet is set at the left side, filled with meat, garnishes, salads and desserts that a district eleven resident would never ever recognise. Sure enough, both of the tributes have no idea what their eyes feast on.

The smell of seared meet, spices and steaming potatoes pierces their nostrils nevertheless and Takeda offers them two dishes with an excess amount of appetizers, stacked on top of each other and ready to fall.

"Eat up and your mentor will be with you in a while" he remarks and quickly exits through a small door.

Both of them plop down on the velvet red couch, plates placed on their laps.

As he does so, his movements are restrained, as if someone has glued his arms to his sides and tied his legs together. He does not even glance outside, focused solely on his food, which he has no intention of eating, fearing that he might not be able to stomach it in his state of mind.

Kiyoko must be feeing the same way, since he spots no motion in his peripheral vision.

Suddenly, poppy fields appear in the scenery as the engine of the convoy roared, sliding them into motion.

"Where do you live?" the girl's query brakes the ice, as Koushi meets her stare.

"My house is where the forest begins"

"That's why I've never seen you at the market" she mutters almost to herself.

People his age work, collecting the crops and often selling them at the district's local markets.

Since neither of his parents cultivated the earth, he mostly assisted them in housework and their barn.

"What about you? I haven't seen you at school either"

"I'm home schooled" she answers flatly.

"Oh"

He wracks his brain to come up with something to say, without success.

Silence.

He lifts what looks like a mini cheese tart to his mouth when the door connecting their wagon with the next slamms open and the snack falls of his hand, revealing a tall, muscular man in his early twenties.

"Hello, young tributes!"

His devious smile does not falter, even when he lays eyes on the shocked expressions on Koushi and Kiyoko's face.

He stands proud, towering above them.

"So, what do we have here? Tell me your names"

They introduce themselves and watch in disbelief as he lights a cigarette, blowing a ring of smoke in the air.

"I'm Ukai and I'm your mentor. I will tell you about some stuff that you should watch out for, but I'll also let you in on a secret" he says with a conspiratorial tone having both boy and girl unconsciously leaning forward to listen.

He sits on a nearby armchair, propping his elbows on his knees.

"It takes a shit load of luck to win the Hunger Games"

Whatever hope gleamed in their eyes faded away at the sound of those words and it hits Koushi for the millionth time this day.

The odds are not in my favor.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm no lucky charm. However, I will give you all of the survival skills you need to have a chance of coming out alive."

He rests his back on the soft cushions and stares into space.

"Five years back, when I won, things were much easier. They didn't have all this technology." his nose wrinkled as if he tastes something sower. "They couldn't control what happened in there. There were times when the Games lasted more than a week. Hell, mine lasted a month!" he exclaims. "But now...Now it's different. If it goes on for more than three days everyone thinks something's off. The organizers have so much power over what happens. They control the weather in the arena, they track you down...they practically force you to bump into each other. You "just happen" to meet at the same spot for water."

He looks at them like he expects them to relate to the situation. The truth is that his rant only forces their throats to go drier and their expressions are a clear indicator of that.

"I'm rambling..." he runs a hand through his unruly blond hair.

Koushi internally sighs. He really didn't picture his mentor to be like this. Ukai looks so laid back, as if nothing he can do will contribute to their survival. He is supposed to help them, support them and instead he starts off by diminishing himself and not taking his duty seriously. 

Is he even going to give them any good useful advice?

"Anyway, I found out who your teammates will be"

That sends a jolt of energy through Koushi's body. He has completely forgotten about that.

"You both have pretty good people. Shimizu, you will be teamed up with Oikawa Tooru. He's from district two and he's pretty much your age."

He has heard of Oikawa before. That boy who swore vengeance on national television because of his older sister's death at the Games when he was just thirteen. He promised to win for her and now he's been chosen to compete this year.

Now that's a hell of a coincidence.

It's really no surprise that he represents his district. Everyone loves a good show and no-one dares question the Capitol's actions.

Especially if they intend to accuse President Snow of setting up the reaping at district two.

"Sugawara, you get Sawamura Daichi. He's sixteen."

"What district?"

"One"

District one.

The Capitol's best friend.

They manufacture luxury items such as jewelery. Their wealth compared to his home district is unimaginable. As a consequence, they are in the capital's good graces. To say that their relationship is friendly would be an understatement.

People of the city love to decorate their homes with district one's products.

The last thing he needs right now is a rich, manipulative guy with him. He stops his train of thought, reminding himself that not all people from the same district are of the same demeanor. Images of the previous ten blood-thirsty tributes brutally slaughtering whatever comes to their path to win, however, tend to convince him otherwise. They often formed alliances, taking advantage of the weak links by harboring them and once they've managed to be the last group of people standing, they kill their so-called friends.

He understands that a team with more than two members will eventually lead to betrayal, though that doesn't stop his blood from running cold, considering the possibility of getting murdered in his sleep after Sawamura would "offer" to take the first watch at night.

"You will be staying with your assigned partners during your one month training in Capitol. Rest up, we'll be there in about two hours" he slowly gets on his feet, cracking his back.

And he is left with Kiyoko.

Chapter Text

"...gawara-kun..."

"...Sugawara..."

"Sugawara-kun"

He jolts awake, suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings.

When did I close my eyes?

His focus falls on the figure that pulled him from his dreamless sleep.

"Takeda-san..."

"Please get ready. We have reached the Capitol" said the escort, looming over the boy.

Koushi looks around and finds that Kiyoko has abandoned her seat next to him and is nowhere to be seen. Either she or Takeda or Ukai (probably Takeda) had the courtesy to take his food from his hands and lay him down across the sofa. Legs sling over the edge and hands rub lazily on eyelids as the two share a look.

He tries desperately to keep his temper from blowing. The fact that this man tries to befriend him and thinks that an insignificant gesture like this would patch things up between them makes him loath the escort even more, but right now he doesn't even have the energy to confront him. Actually, that isn't his intention. Turning on one of the few people assigned to provide you with support and help during this time is not exactly the smartest way to act.

"You are to be taken to the place in which you will be staying for a month before you are transfered to the arena. Shimizu-chan is right outside, come on."

He has failed to notice that the train has halted to a stop, with its doors wide open. Camera's go off and cheers flood the wagon. Various shouts of reporters trying to catch Kiyoko's attention make it clear to him that the channels of the Capitol are already there for the standard interview on the train station upon the arrival of the tribites.

He has watched this scene unfold numerous times when watching the Hunger Games.

The possibility that one day he would be the overwhelmed tribute on the spotlight, flustered and attempting to seem likable.

It is of vital importance to secure the favor of sponsors, who will pay to send medicine and food when their player of choice is in danger.Koushi knows this all too well. Neither Takeda nor Ukai have to tell him or Kiyoko that that's how this works.

Upon revealing himself the crowd erupts into cheers, wishing him good luck or to "look here!" or "smile for the camera!".

He musters a small smile as bile threatens to rise in his throat. Everyone seems ready to choke him, the flash of the cameras blurring his vision. He frantically searches for Kiyoko while making an effort to remain calm.

After all, a good first impression is extremely crucial.

"Sugawara-san, welcome to the Capitol!" a woman screeches, shoving a microphone to his face.

"Thank you" he doesn't even make eye contact with her, focusing on getting his words across by leaning into the mic.

"Sugawara!" he whips his head, eyes training on Kiyoko calling for him in the distance.

Finally

" Come on, move it!" Ukai pushes him through the sea of people to her as queries are being shot at him.

"Sugawara-san, how old are you?"

"Are you excited to be here?"

"What do you think of this year's different way of playing the Games?"

He mumbled "no comment"as he makes it to where Kiyoko is standing.

A man with a shiny bald head greets him, almost yelling at full volume to be heard over the mass.

The camera man signals at the interviewer to begin and suddenly everyone falls silent.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen! My name is Ishikawa Takahiro and I'm here today with district eleven's tributes for this year. Please welcome Sugawara Koushi-san and Shimizu Kiyoko-san! Hello! Capitol Live is very excited to be here with you!" he finishes and turns to them.

They are surrounded by recorders and cameras capturing them in the moment with loud clicks.

"It's a great pleasure to be here, Ishikawa-san" Kiyoko thankfully takes the lead and greets him smoothly in return.

Her levelheadedness comes as a surprise. They barely spoke on their ride here and she doesn't really strike one as talkative. If anything, she seems shy.

Or maybe he mistook her indifference for bashfulness.

All Koushi manages to do is smile. He is unable to form coherent sentences knowing that all of Capitol is watching and he might say something wrong. Images of his mother and sister flash in his mind.

He remembers how Suzume is so polite and kind and contributes a lot in a conversation.

A strong pang of guilt eats at his stomach.

What was their last talk? Not a pointless exchange of words, their last substantial dialogue.

What was her reaction when his mother came home alone? Realisation dawns upon him as he recalls her saying that she will prepare soup for when he comes back.

There will be soup ready when you get home, okay?

Why did I say "okay"?

"So, what do you think of the city so far?"

He briefly locks eyes with Koushi but chooses not to address the query at him. Once again his "teammate" replies, joking about how the train stations look amazing.

His lungs feel like they are being crushed by his fear. He can physically sense the sweat forming on the sides of his temple, but decides against wiping it with his hand in a manner that will certainly not be elegant.

"What about you, Sugawara-san?"

His voice snaps him back to reality, leaving him in a panicked state.

What did he just ask me?

"Um, excuse me?" he tries weakly, eliciting an obnoxious laughter from the man.

He would narrow his eyes at him but he knows better.

"Oh my, someone is a bit nervous! Don't worry, don't worry! We will make sure that your stay at our hotel will be the best and most relaxing experience of all!"

Koushi has never been to a hotel. He has never left his district, his hometown. There is no standard set in his head as far as comfortable stays at resorts go.

They are all aware of that, yet they ignore it.

The irony is unbelievable.

"Yes, I am sure" he reassures him, finally saying something.

A few more questions go by, with things like their age and family being mentioned as part of "getting to know our amazing tributes who so bravely came here to compete at this year's Hunger Games".

"I realise that you must be exhausted from your long trip, so I will ask you one last thing. Is there some sort of skill that you have mastered and you consider a great advantage and tool for survival?"

A whirlwind full of thoughts confuses him even more, as he tries to find something, anything to say.

He went to school in the morning and was loaded with obligations to fulfill until the evening. Then came homework and taking care of Suzume. Free time wasn't really a concept for people like him.

"I practice archery" Kiyoko blurs out and it comes as a shock to Koushi.

It certainly impresses Ishikawa-san.

"Ah, really?" his face alight with admiration and surprise "That will be very helpful, I'm sure! And Sugawara-san?"

Even Kiyoko is interested in hearing his response, glancing at him momentarily.

"It really is a matter of strategy, in my opinion. It is not of any importance whether one wins the Games by..."

he quickly stops himself from saying "killing" and swallows the lump threatening to jumble his words.

"using their weapon of choice or by hiding until there is no-one left. So one must be really careful and methodical."

All eyes fall on him as finishes his statement and, although it was not expected, it doesn't make the interview lose its flow.

"You're right! That's a very nice observation!" the reporter exclaims "Thank you again for staying with us and we will see you soon! I wish you the best of luck!"

Ukai pulls at both of their arms, dragging them out of the spotlight.

"Goodbye, thank you" the tributes yell across the station, having already built a distance between them and Ishikawa.

And before they know it they are in a car, headed towards the hotel that was so much mentioned.

Koushi sits in the middle, preparing to get reprimanded for his behaviour.

"Nice" their mentor comments without establishing eye contact.

"You saved your ass with that last thing Sugawara."

Huh

Chapter Text

The Grand Hotel of Tributes is truly an astonishingly gigantic structure. Koushi can make out twelve storeys – one for each district – with balconies filled with blooming flowers. Large yellow neon letters read the name of the building right above the entrance, where two guards dressed in black suits stand by each side.

“Sugawara-kun, Shimizu-chan, move along, I have to register you to your respective rooms” Takeda calls and they follow him hesitantly.

They cross the glass doors of the resort and a huge lobby stretches out in front of them.

He watches as Takeda approaches the front desk, discussing something with a blond receptionist. She hands him two pairs of keys and in turn he gives them to Koushi and Kiyoko, who simply stand looking around, unsure of what to do or how to act.

"Shimizu-chan, your room is on the second floor. Oikawa-kun is waiting for you"

One could see the flinch on the girl's face as she opens her mouth as if to say something, but decides against it last minute.

"Sugawara-kun, you will head up to the eleventh floor. I believe Sawamura-kun is already settled in."

That's right. His new teammate from district one. He had forgotten everything about him.

Nevertheless he nods and walks to the elevator with Kiyoko.

"A servant will assist you with your needs and please be quiet so that you don't disturb the other tributes. Meet me here in three hours."

The doors slide closed and they slowly ascend, seconds away from meeting with the person who will either be their saviour or the reason they die in one month's time. He glances at Kiyoko's reflection barely visible reflection on the silver wall of the lift.

It would be nice to compete with her. From what he has seen she is quite dependable and intelligent. Then again, he might not be thinking things through. It could just be his emotions clouding his judgment because it would be reassuring to rely on someone who calls the same place as him home.

Then again, he might not be thinking things through. It could just be his emotions clouding his judgment because it would be reassuring to rely on someone who calls the same place as him home.

And he misses his home so much.

The ding followed by a female voice announcing that they are currently on the second storey makes him realise that it's time to share their goodbyes.

"Good luck" he says as she leaves him.

Alone.

With no one to be with him or make him feel remotely comfortable.

He doesn't need much. Kiyoko herself wasn't of much help.

But she is from district eleven and that was something.

"You too"

Of course they will see each other in training and their free time, but it won't be the same.

They will be accompanied by their teammates. Ukai strongly urged the two to stay close with them, since building trust is important.

Why he must become friends with someone who will likely want to get rid of him when the moment comes is beyond Koushi.

Before the elevator opening slides closed he hears a high-pitched "Shimisu-san! Hi!" and cringes.

Hope finds its way into his heart as he prays for the umpteenth time today:

Please let Sawamura be a nice person.

Before he even has time to put his thoughts in order he is right outside his room.

His hands run through his hair and down his shirt, fixing anything that can be fixed. He takes a deep breath and pushes the key to the lock.

A total contrast between different shades of yellow and silver hits him, causing his face to slightly contort in disgust.

The room - it actually is bigger than his house, fully equipped with a kitchen, dining table and living room aside from closed doors that are probably their private chambers and a bathroom - is split in half in terms of decoration, the left side which consists of the kitchen and the dining table full of glimmering chandeliers and glass vases and the right with traditional paintings of fields in district eleven, wooden chairs and a couch with a floral fabric splayed on top of it.

Combined together, the two art styles form a cacophony to his eyes. Back home the houses are almost empty, the only ornaments that contribute to the aesthetic enhancement of a household being family photos and colourful tablecloths.

The resemblance between the side dedicated to his homeland and his actual home is chilling.

He concludes that his room is the one to his right and he moves tentatively, wondering where this Sawamura guy is.

He assumes that he must either be out doing something - what precisely he couldn't fathom- or he has chosen to ignore him in favour of providing himself (and automatically Koushi) some more spare time without forcing an unwanted confrontation that could be pushed for later. Making friends isn't really on his agenda.

He believes it is on no-one's agenda here.

Especially making friends from district one.

The bathroom is located exactly in the middle of the apartment, half the door a charcoal grey and the other half a deep brownish shade.

He briefly wonders if the toilet itself or the bathtub will also be separated, whether he will bathe on his side and Sawamura on his.

He plans to take a shower, so he will find out soon enough. Right now, however, the object of his curiosity is his bedroom.

The softest bed, newest television and most beautiful view are expected as he enters.

They owe everyone who is here at least that.

And he does find those things.

But what he also finds is Sawamura, laying unconscious on his custom made homey bed.

*

He is on his belly, his brown head of hair resting on his folded arms. His frame is slightly bigger than Koushi's, body rising and falling steadily, almost reassuringly, as he sleeps without even stirring in his teammate's presence.

Koushi is taken aback. This - he - came as a surprise. Taking a room clearly not made for himself and dosing off in it didn't even exist in his mind as a thought, or a way to behave.

"What the hell..." he softly whispers.

His face isn't in sight, as it is buried in his arms and the boy draws nearer, in an attempt to study him closely.

He looks...peaceful.

The bedside table next to him has a card placed on top of it and he lifts it up reading its message:

We hope you enjoy your stay here, Sugawara-san. Here are some useful telephones in case you are in need of anything.

Front desk: 1278

Servant (Yamaguchi Tadashi-san):5190

With regards,

Hunger Games Organising Group

He lifts his head, looking around, suddenly noticing the telephone right next to the written note.

If this were his room, there wouldn't be a land line installed next to his bed. Nowhere in the residence, to be precise.

Now that he thinks about it, where is the servant? He imagined that they would be here, waiting for him or catering to Sawamura's wishes.

It's not that his services are wanted right now, but it still is a valid question.

His gaze falls once again on young man. Koushi stands over him at a loss.

A strong desire to lay down overcomes him and he wishes with all his heart Sawamura were more considerate and less of an insensitive person who feels entitled to everything.

Including Koushi's room.

He positively does not even think about lounging in the chamber across, feeling too out of place and homesick already.

Can't he at least have this? Something his?

He storms out leaving the door open whilst walking towards the kitchen to quench his thirst and hunger, but mostly to just explore his new place.

He crosses the thin white line entering the part designed to imitate the world of district one.

The oven and all electric appliances are state of art and everywhere he looks, his eyes stare back at him through the shiny metal on the counters, the hanging pots, the sink.

There are enough supplies to last them for the month, judging by the full cupboards and refrigerator and he prepares some bread with cheese, too exhausted for culinary experiments.

He eats absentmindedly, sitting at the small table set in a corner.

The container he had found earlier read "District 11 goat cheese", but as he swallows with difficulty he concludes it tastes more like plastic. Same thing applies to the whole wheat bread, which only suffocates him even more, rather than helping push everything down.

At least the water feels the same, except for the fact that it cools his throat, what with being in a glass bottle in the fridge.

He finishes up quickly, hurrying to take a shower before Sawamura wakes up and he can properly introduce himself.

Towels and a fresh change of clothes (a pair of grey sweatpants, t-shirt and sneakers) are placed on the washing machine, identical to the one the brown haired boy wears.

Koushi wastes no time getting in the tub, quickly scrubbing under the warm water. He always had to hurry when taking a bath, since he couldn't tolerate the freezing temperature. They couldn't -and can't- afford a boiler.

He examines the five different bottles of shampoo laid across him and picks a rose scented one. He spreads the lotion on his scalp and loose hair.

He should be done in about five minutes.

That would never be enough time for him to wake up and use the bathroom, right?

It's fine, he can remember himself saying as loud stomps echoed through the apartment.

Stomps coming his way.

And his heart stops.

Okay, either he woke up and the call of nature is too urgent to wait around or he wants to start toying with Koushi from day one.

He concludes it's probably the latter.

At this point there's nothing he can do to fight back. He is naked, exposed and without any means of defense with him and he can feel him getting closer.

Frantic steps are now a door away and a soft breeze shakes the curtains that conceal him after the door handle jiggles and clicks, opening the door wide.

He can't help the gasp that escapes him.

And both of them stay silent.

"I-I'm so sorry!" his voice thunders in a high pitch and he clears his throat.

If he hadn't seen him earlier, Koushi would assume he was in his late twenties by the sound of him.

"It's okay"

"No! I'm sorry, Sugawara-san."

Someone has done their homework.

He could hear the blush dusting his tan cheeks.

"It's- it's fine-"

A relatively loud slam cuts him off, leaving him hanging.

He concludes that his search for an excuse to despise his teammate has come to a stop.

The guy is an arrogant idiot.

He literally barged into the bathroom, knowing that Koushi was in there to initiate small talk; though he did not try anything or insult him in any way. And his tone sounded genuinely apologetic.

But that doesn't mean that he'll be forgiven so easily.

He finishes up and changes, preparing for the things he will hear.

For the next month, he will be living with him, eating with him, sharing a place to stay with him.

Neutrality is the best way to go, though it depends on the guy's actions.

He doesn't see him nearby when he exits the bathroom, so he makes a run to the left, hoping Sawamura got the message and backed away.

"Sugawara-san"

He turns to him abruptly, drops shooting from his silver strands.

"Hi" he forces a smile.

His face matches his body, brown eyes glimmering at him. He abandons his seat at the dining table and slowly walks towards him.

"Again, I'm very sorry about before. I didn't realise you were here and I... really needed to use the restroom. I still do, actually..."

He fumbles with the hem of his shirt, while trying to hide his stiff movements.

Koushi feels his cheeks heat up.

"It's okay, no problem." he catches himself saying before he has a chance to stop. "Go and we can...just go"

He nods curtly and practically sprints away from him.

He stands, unable to do anything else.

What just happened?

He plops down on the couch, waiting for him to come back and talk. About what he isn't sure, but he definitely can't leave it at this and he is positive Sawamura won't either.

After the muffled sound of the flush, he reappears, sitting next to him a good meter apart.

The silence is deafening and Koushi could practically hear the gears shifting in the other's head.

"So, you probably know, but my name is Sawamura Daichi and I'm from district one."

"I'm Sugawara Koushi and I come from district eleven. And just Sugawara is fine."

They both have been told about each other, know the basics. However they are also aware of how well these pieces of information work as a way of breaking the ice.

That's all Koushi wants to do. Make their interaction less awkward.

"Do you have any siblings?" he asks.

"I have twin brother, his name is Asahi"

"Oh...that's tough" he can't think of anything else to say as Sawamura's head lowers faintly.

"I have a little sister" he offers.

"How old is she?"

"Eleven"

"That's even tougher" he replies, locking eyes with him.

"Yeah"

For some reason, mentioning his sister to him didn't trigger his anger like other times. Sawamura doesn't look at him with pity, but with understanding. He understands that the prospect of never seeing someone you love again is terrifying and he also relates to this problem.

Because he is in the exact same position.

As time passes, they talk about what people who have just met discuss over, such as their family, friends, every day life.

Sawamura lives in the richest part on his district and his parents own a very successful jewellery shop. He aspires to take over his family's business one day.

Koushi shares very little personal information, not wanting to sound too pessimistic and...well...

He just didn't want to say much about home.

Every time he answers one of the questions fired at him, he talks for a little while and for those mere seconds and meaningless yes or no answers he felt Sawamura's stare get heavier and heavier. But it's not a condescending look. On the contrary, it's a attentive gaze, pleading him to expand and generally compelled to listen.

Or at least that's what Koushi thinks.

"And the girl from your district? Did she get someone good?" he can't help asking in curiosity.

Does Sawamura know her? Are they friends?

"Michimiya? Um...she got paired up with a guy from twelve, Hinata"

The chances of Hinata being a person he was acquainted with were almost non-existent, so it doesn't surprise Koushi that that name does not ring any bells.

"What about yours?"

"Shimizu got Oikawa."

Something shifts on Sawamura's face, his brows pinching and a concerned look dancing on his features.

"Oikawa? Really?"

"Yeah...do you know him?"

If there was something sketchy about him, he could at least warn Kiyoko. She might be his opponent from now on, but in the case of Oikawa Tooru, one can't be too cautious.

There is something very wrong with him, but he can't put his finger on it.

When he first saw him on TV, even when crying his heart out, his eyes gave away a malicious glare. It could just be his imagination, but the way his eyes made contact with him through the lense, the way his voice sounded earlier when Kiyoko met him up close for the first time; it just didn't sit right with him.

And apparently neither with Sawamura.

"He's from two, right? I know the story...", he trails off, hesitating to continue.

"He asked me to be his ally out there" he finally states blankly.

And that is why he was apprehensive about this collaboration from the start. An alliance is about the worst case scenario when it comes to people like him.

People whose parents do not own a jewellery shop and whose district's do not make luxury items or weapons.

Those groups consist of tributes from district one and two. However, this new arrangement could cause a different consistency.

Maybe tributes from other districts could also be accepted this year.

That makes Koushi sick to his stomach.

"And...what did you say?"

"I told him that I would discuss it with you and we would let him know"

Discuss it with me.

We would let him know.

"So...you want to do this together?"

He needs to know. Is he going to help him or work against him?

"Yeah, yeah...I mean...it's pretty difficult for one to do it on their on, don't you think?"

"Yes, you're right."

A weight is lifted from his shoulders at that, because he has a teammate, a person.

He isn't completely alone.

"And in all honesty I don't want to make an alliance with Oikawa" he blurts out in his rush of relief.

It's like all muscles on his body relax as Sawamura replies: "Good, because neither do I" with a smirk.

Both share a breathy laugh and the doorbell rings, startling them.

"Sugawara-san, Sawamura-san" a teenage voice comes through.

"It's Yamaguchi, your servant. Can you please open the door?"

Chapter Text

Upon letting the servant in, both teens concluded that the weak, sort of squeaky voice coming out the door depicted its owner accurately.

Koushi opens up to see a boy about his age, maybe a little younger, dressed like the butlers of Capitol he watched on television and smiling nervously. His hair is splayed on top of his head in unruly strands, his face decorated with freckles all across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. In comparison to both of the tributes, he looks so tiny, even though he's about their height.

"Hello", he offers, standing in front of them, lifting his hand in a small waving motion.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi and for the next month I will be your servant. I will clean your apartment, cook for you and...basically do whatever you ask", he gives a breathy laugh.

Koushi flashes a sympathetic smile, even though he knows that in the long run it won't be Yamaguchi  who will be in need of support.

"Thanks, it's nice to have you here."

Anything than being alone all day with Sawamura.

In the short time that he met him, his teammate has managed to reduce Koushi's suspiciousness. However, it definitely has not faded out completely. The servant's presence makes him feel at ease.

"Great...um, so I'm just going to prepare lunch, it will be ready in about two hours."

He shuffles to the kitchen, pulling all sorts of utensils, pots, vegetables and rice, quickly getting to work.

His movements do nothing to hint what food he is making and every time Koushi has the slightest idea of what it might be, a different course of action takes him by surprise and he is left in the dark again.

"Um...", Sawamura clears his throat, drawing his attention.

He considers the possible ways this conversation might go and figures that he probably wants to justify why he was napping at a stranger's room without permission.

He is dying for an answer, for something that would end Sawamura's streak of addressing every issue with success and making a solid good impression. It is not in his interests to like him, much less become his friend.

But the hypocrisy of his behaviour is nagging at him, eating him slowly and causing an uneasy squeeze at his stomach.

He wants Sawamura to save him if needed at the arena, he wants him to be willing to work collaboratively, yet he wishes no further contact. It was a given to Koushi that his teammate will do his best to keep him alive, without even understanding himself that he is obligated to do the same. The way he saw it until now, he received more than what he took. It's not a matter of skill, but it is one of sincerity and fairness.

"Sorry, got a bit distracted...any clue what he's doing in there?" he motions with his head towards Yamaguchi to change the subject before the other has a chance to bring up the previous events.

"I don't know the first thing about cooking, so almost everything involving a fire makes no sense to me", he jokes, eliciting a giggle from Koushi, who mentally sighs. He shouldn't be laughing at that.

They take their seat at the dining table across each other and everything - from the silk tablecloth to the shiny candle holders catches his attention. He also uses this as an excuse to not meet Sawamura's stare.

"So...about earlier...", the boy in front of him starts "I really didn't want to sleep on your bed, I- I was so tired when I first came that I just passed out on the first surface I could find."

He looks at him, hopeful that he would buy this story, like he's trying to hide the real reason he acted like that.

"It's okay", Koushi huffs, resting his chin on his hand.

He is absolutely right to distrust him. The explanation he just received has no basis.

Feeling irritation burning in his lungs, Koushi leaves the table, asking Sawamura to let him know when lunch is served.

He flops on his bed, facing the ceiling.

This continuous loop of horrible things happening is torturing him. Ever since he left home, he feels as if a chunk of his body has been ripped off of him, leaving him incomplete. He wishes his sister were here, so that he can consult her about...all of this.

He can't tell if this guy is genuinely good or bad, since every move he makes contradicts the one before.

Confusion grips him tight, every question he internally asks having two different answers.

In an attempt to calm down, he closes his eyes, playing every day of his life so far in his mind. His days at school, his chores, the early awakenings, the exhausting nights, the hot summer evenings out in the yard playing with other kids.

He tries to block out any unsettling memory, but even as they find their way onto his train of thought, he can't shake the yearning in the pit of his stomach for them.

Even the really scary times that haunt him sometimes in his sleep.

Anything is better than this.

This.

This situation is depressing, annoying, terrifying.

And he hates it.

The rest of his time goes by, until Yamaguchi yells invitingly: "Lunch is ready!"

Both boys come out of their bedrooms and take their seats at each head of the table.

Between them is a huge round plater with steaming peppers and tomatoes, emanating their sweet smell. The servant rushes over to them, placing baked potatoes, a white cheese Koushi has never seen before in slices and a rich salad glistening with olive oil, inside the white glass bowl the same cheese, chopped cucumber, tomato, pepper and olives next to the main dish.

"Today's lunch is stuffed vegetables with raisins, accompanied by potatoes, feta cheese and salad, a Capitol special", he beams. "Enjoy."

As he makes his way to the kitchen, Koushi calls him, concern thick in his voice:

"Yamaguchi-kun, what about you?"

He turns around, partly stunned, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

"Oh, don't worry! I'll eat somewhere else..."

"Come and eat with us, there's plenty of food, thanks to you. And we don't mind, right?"

He shoots a glance at Sawamura and, although seemingly shocked himself, he accepts the proposal without any complaint.

Even if he did object, he would have to deal with his roommate's rage, something he probably knows would overpower any of his protests.

"Sure! Join us!"

"T-thank you."

He sits on Koushi's left side after grabbing a plate and utensils, still quite in disbelief of what is happening right now.

"Please, dig in and tell me what you think", he remarks shyly, gesturing at the food.

It reminds him of the woods, the mixture of rice, the seasoning and the raisins along with the skin of the vegetable. Every bite melts as he chews, thoroughly taking pleasure in shoving each one down in greedy mouthfuls.

He thinks of a compliment to say.

"It's awesome, so delicious!", Sawamura beats him to it and he settles with an enthusiastic nod.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it!"

Everyone falls into a state of quiet, until Yamaguchi pierces it with a reluctant tone:

"Sugawara-san, I'm actually from district eleven too."

Koushi's eyes widen a bit in joy.

"Really? Wow... where do you live?"

"Near the Market, but my family and I left when I was ten, so...", he trails off, a sad smile on his face.

At the mention of their common homeland, Yamaguchi's face sparks a flair of familiarity.

Maybe he has seen him before, somewhere. They're about a year apart and judging by the location of his home, they must have gone to the same elementary school.

Before he even gets a chance to wonder about why he left his district, his throat tightens in realisation.

It's not a coincidence that most servants in the Capitol used to reside in districts eleven and twelve.

He's seen it with his own eyes.

"How come you came here?"

The question comes from Sawamura and makes the younger of the three shift uncomfortably.

Koushi wants to stretch his hands across the table and strangle him.

Of course he wouldn't know anything about it.

"I...", he looks as if he is weighing the options in his head, whether to tell them or not.

"M-my father was imprisoned and part of his conviction was mine and my family's transferring to the Capitol and working here as a servants..."

Koushi shudders in fear.

It is not uncommon that people from district eleven and twelve (the most disposable and poor parts of Panem) are accused of a false crime and punished extremely harshly for the benefits of the Capitol.

It has happened to people he knew, people he was close to.

His only neighbours in the forest, a man and a pregnant woman, were hauled out of their house in the middle of the night, the man's screams and his wife's wails and pleas waking him and his sister and they couldn't save them as their silhouettes were dragged on the ground, barely visible under the moonlight.

Apparently the man was charged with theft. He stole some corn from a big landholder from dsitrict one to feed his family, because they had nothing and they were going to die.

They had to listen to the physical struggle, grunts and globs connecting hard with backs and the woman's protruding belly. The couple frantically trying to persuade the men who came for them that she was in labor and that they had to wait for her to deliver, obviously wracking their minds for a way to win another night and somehow escape.

They were never seen again.

"I'm so sorry, Yamaguchi-kun."

"It's okay", it escapes his mouth in a whisper.

When in fact all three of them knew it isn't.

That, however, does not stop Koushi's heart from fluttering softly.

He has someone from home with him.

*

They make their way down to the lobby, finding it full of chattering tributes from common districts, along with their new teammates. All of them wear the same grey outfit, only differentiating themselves by their facial characteristics.

Which makes it even more difficult for Koushi to stand out, considering his hair, now in a loose ponytail, almost match this dull colour.

Not that he wishes to be recognised.

But who would even regognise him? Everyone here is a complete stranger to him.

His eyes fall on Kiyoko, sitting in a velvet red armchair at the far corner of the room, signaling them to come closer.

"I'm Sawamura Daichi, district one, nice to meet you"

"Shimizu Kiyoko, district eleven"

They shake hands once they are close and she looks around.
"Oikawa is somewhere talking to a guy from seven." she states blankly.

By the looks of it most people are gathered in teams of four, meaning that they have the tendency to stay close with their compatriots.

It would definitely be wiser to stick with Kiyoko, since they would have trouble matching up against people twice their number. However that would mean Oikawa would also have to join them, what with his eagerness for an alliance.

Koushi sighs internally. He can't fully trust Sawamura and even Kiyoko is quite unpredictable.

A collaboration even among the three of them isn't as promising as one would think.

And to add Kiyoko's partner to the equation...

All of this sound so far ahead. Like this massive slaughter that will occur is at least twenty years away.

But it's not and he can't do it. He can't just make friends he's going to have to kill later on. Kiyoko could, Oikawa most certainly can and Sawamura...

"Shimizu, is Takeda here?", he is quick with starting a conversation before any awkward silence ensues.

"He told me to stay here and that the trainer will talk to us about our daily exercise."

"So he's not coming?"

"Yeah, he won't be-"

"Sugawara-kun!", he hears from a distance, turning to see who was it that wanted to see him so badly.

He isn't even slightly surprised when a lean, handsome, brown haired young man comes near him, waving excitedly.

"I've heard so much about you from Shimizu-chan!", he speaks loudly, his smile wide but hiding mischief.

"Just Shimizu is fine", Kiyoko remarks, annoyance clear in her tone.

"Right, right. Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Oikawa Tooru. I'm proud to call district two my home", he extends a hand to Koushi, who mimics the gesture.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Sugawara from eleven, but you probably already know that", he locks eyes with him and even though they crease from his grin, they hide an urge to tear him in half, learn all his secrets, squash him and turn him into dust.

Oikawa bursts into a booming laugh.

"Yes, I do! I met Sawamura-kun here earlier at the lobby and talked to him about us becoming...special buddies in the arena. What do you think? Us four, out there, having each other's backs?", he asks, stepping closer into his personal space.

It's as if he's sure that Koushi will say 'yes', as if the concept of being told otherwise is not even familiar to him.

"We haven't really talked about it yet, but we will let you know", he replies, spotting Oikawa's eyebrows furrow for a fraction of a second, before he returns to his usual cheerful state.

"Suit yourselves, gentlemen. I'm sure that by the end of the month I will charm you into being my allies. At least I know I have Shimizu-chan by my side!", he playfully nudges the girl's elbow, making her avert her eyes in a mixture of exasperation and fear.

Koushi hopes she will be alright with him, connecting his orbs with her mystrious grey ones in an act of solidarity.

"We'll think about it" Sawamura speaks roughly, ending the dialogue.

They wait for the trainer silently, Oikawa swiftly deserting them in favour of continuing his chat with a guy about his age with pitch black, mussed hair.

It is going to be a long month.

Chapter Text

Once the trainer came, she explained in detail all the rules and regulations as far as the day to day exercise of tributes and the new way of playing the Games goes.

They will work out in hourly rotations every day except for weekends (unless they wish to catch up on a specific ability they lack on), undergoing training to improve their physical shape by practicing sports and to learn survival skills. Practice begins early in the morning in an underground gymnasium beneath the lobby and ends late in the afternoon. Fortunately for Koushi, it is not obligatory to collaborate with teammates in any way to complete most of the given tasks.

This year it is possible for two people to win. However, they cannot be of the same district. The only way for more than one tribute to be crowned victor is to be teamed up with their respective partner who was chosen in the beginning of the Quartel Quel.

Tributes are not allowed to leave the hotel premises, except for their weekly tours around various parts of the city accompanied by escorts and any other happening that requires their presence and includes camera reporters.

When the first day rolls in and after a sleepless night with him laying on his bed staring up at the wall, not being able to be in a calm enough state to rest, he hears a knock on his door.

With a soft creak, Yamaguchi enters.

"Good morning, Sugawara-san. It's time to wake up."

He comes near, to probably shake Koushi's shoulders but the boy saves him the trouble. He stirs lightly and turns his body to face the servant.

"Good morning.", his voice betrays his lack of sleep, as do his eyelids that are ironically now starting to droop.

"And it's just Sugawara", he corrects. Yamaguchi is the only person with whom he feels remotely comfortable. He figures that in order to establish a solid relationship they should drop the honorifics.

Even though they will most likely never see each other again after a month.

But he might as well take what he can get.

"Sawamura-san is at the dining room."

He feels a pang of irritation at the mention of his teammate. How on Earth did he manage to get up and ready at such a short notice? It wouldn't be so far fetched if it is revealed to Koushi that Sawamura himself is asking for him and it wasn't just something Yamaguchi informed him about to hurry.

Then again, the world doesn't revolve around him and Sawamura might just be fast.

He decides to believe whatever is convenient to him and his hatred towards the young man.

"Okay, I will be out in five minutes."

He dresses quickly with the same grey pants and t-shirt with yesterday and runs a hand through his hair in front of the mirror. He has misplaced his single hair tie and now has to endure this day with hair blocking his vision. Sleep deprivation hangs heavy on his features, every cell in his body screaming at him to go back to bed. With a persistent rub at his eyes, he exits his room to find all kinds of food splayed across the dining table. As he walks over the image gets clearer, slices of bread with three different jams, various fruits in bowls, tarts, milk, juice, cakes and cheese jump into the picture.

And Sawamura.

"Good morning", he greets with a fruity tone.

"Hi", Koushi responds.

He sits opposite his partner, who has moved to the side, right next to where Koushi was on their first day. Yamaguchi serves them, awkwardly passing salt or napkins that the boys could not reach. After some silent moments of juice pouring in cups and forks and knives lightly clinking on glass plates, he makes a move to leave.

"I will take care of your chambers. If you need anything else please let me know."

It only crosses Koushi's mind that he didn't ask him to eat with them, but exhaustion is keeping him from functioning properly. He makes a mental note to make it up to the young butler.

"So, did you sleep well?"

He doesn't know how he stops his eyes from rolling and sighing loudly as he looks at Sawamura and deadpans:

"Yes."

He can tell. It shows that he can tell, if his lowered gaze and fumbling give away anything.

He understands that he said something wrong, yet he makes no move to lighten the air.

But whatever he would have done would have no effect whatsoever, because Koushi has decided to shut him out. His thoughts on their working together shouldn’t have been considered for more than a second.

*

The gym is quite spacious, considering the facilities it offers. Every activity has a designated space big enough for all tributes to exercise there at the same time, with at least three instructors. The walls are covered in a light shade of grey, full of promotional posters for the Games and sheets of paper with every person and their assigned team for the day according to the patch of color next to their name. He and Sawamura, along with a guy from district seven and a girl from district two – the yellow group - are to attend self-defense lessons first.

He quickly spots the ring, blue mats spread on the floor and a yellow sign at the side. There stands a tall muscular brunette along with…

…who Koushi identifies as Oikawa’s buddy from the other day. As he closes in, he sees the same untamed hair and proud posture. He seems to be talking to Sawamura and by the looks of it, it is a pretty one-sided conversation, with his partner simply nodding in agreement at every statement and glancing around every now and then.

Koushi excused himself earlier from breakfast, simply because he decided that the face of Sawamura was too much of a reminder that he is stuck with him instead literally anyone else and that they were supposed to work together to survive the Games and just by thinking about it he felt exhausted.

Needless to say, they didn't arrive at training together.

A small groan escapes him and he thanks every god out there that everyone and the trainers aren’t facing him. Oikawa might not be his problem today, but he has reason to believe he is not the only one who will cause trouble.

He arrives and all eyes fall on him.

“Hi, I’m Sugawara”, he introduces himself.

"Hey, man! Nice to meet you, I'm Kuroo and this is Arima", Kuroo remarks, gesturing to the girl next to him, who is chatting with a boy, probably from her district - Koushi can't imagine any other reason why she would be talking to him, since making smalltalk and getting acquainted to new people is quite hard considering the circumstances they're under.

Or maybe he's her friend.

Koushi doesn't care.

"I'm from district seven", he hears Kuroo saying.

There is a glimmer in his eyes, mischief dancing on his facial expressions as he speaks.

"I'm from eleven", Koushi catches his cue to talk.

Kuroo is quite taller than him, looking over him like a beast over its prey. He doesn't say anything else, although it becomes clear to Koushi that the boy would give everything to get to know a few more things about his future opponent.

He also realises that this is not the time to back down or seem unsure and wavering. He gazes right at him, ready to answer whatever comes out of his mouth, which has now formed a grin.

"Awesome mane!" Kuroo unexpectedly exclaims, carding his fingers through a patch of Koushi's wavy hair and playing with a few curls.

He barely resists flinching away.

"Do you dye it?", it comes out of his mouth, with an easily traceable mock curiosity.

Everyone knows that most people in district eleven can't even pay for their food, let alone hair dye.

Koushi is pretty sure he has never seen anyone who has dyed their hair back home.

"No, this is my natural colour", he says as casually as he can muster, never breaking eye contact.

"Wow, what do you eat at the south to get that kind of hair?", Kuroo laughs at his own joke.

Mushrooms.

Week old bread.

Grass.

Sometimes nothing for days on end.

He keeps the answer for himself and lets out a breathy laugh. He sees Sawamura out of the corner of his eye quite stiff...

...with anger maybe?

What does he care anyway? It wasn't like he was the one made fun of.

"You talk about hair when you walk around with that bed head of yours?", Sawamura teases, jerking his head to the black mess on Kuroo's head. Apart from the smile on his lips, anyone could tell he is irritated.

Koushi feels the urge to silently curse at him for getting involved in his affairs.

Even though everything is said in a light hearted tone, it is evidently clear that there is venom hidden behind every word.

And he wants to defend himself, not be defended by anyone.

Especially Sawamura.

Kuroo fires back after chuckling and subconsciously petting down some stray black strands on his scalp:

"Whoah, easy there. You're so lucky, Sugawara! It's very difficult to find such a caring boyfriend."

All colour is lost from Koushi's face, as he stares at him with eyes slightly widening.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Sawamura almost yells and, for once, his partner is thankful that he talks for both of them.

"We're not together", he catches himself mumbling after looking away.

"Whatever, you say, lovebirds~", their opponent sing songs, right before the whistle signaling the beginning of practice blows.

All throughout the day the two boys don't even dare to look at each other. Even as they are paired, they try to do the exercise without talking and ignoring the awkward atmosphere between them.

It turns out that Koushi will have to improve by leaps and bounds in order to stand a chance against Kuroo, as he finds out during martial arts.

He guesses it's not only Kuroo that he has to work to surpass in order to survive, but small steps are better than setting unreachable goals.

With each passing drill, the guy felt obligated to show off every jump, stretch and punch, grunting exaggeratedly. He also never stopped glancing over at Koushi, then at Sawamura and smirking with satisfaction.

Trying to ignore the word boyfriend that was thrown to his face, the boy focused on the burn of his muscles every time he took so much as a single step, panting heavily and falling behind constantly. The only one who stayed on his side was Sawamura, even though Koushi kept telling him that "you can go, I'll be fine".

His limbs ache with exhaustion the first hour in and he is unable to do anything else than drag his legs to the apartment at the end of the day.

Sawamura - and even Kuroo and his teammate (and everyone else according to what he saw) - is in the same wrecked state as he is.

But he still can't forget about it.

You're so lucky, Sugawara!

such a caring boyfriend

He wants to throw up.

They open the door to find the house empty and a note left on the dining table:

Sugawara-san, Sawamura-san,

I will return to prepare dinner for you at 8. Until then, help yourselves with the sandwiches on the kitchen counter.

Respectfully,

Yamaguchi.

A quick look at the clock tells him it's six, meaning he has two more hours before Yamaguchi comes.

There isn't really anything he wishes to do that requires the boy's absence. It doesn't matter at all.

But the mere thought of something else, the momentary calculation of how many hours he will be with Sawamura alone is a distraction. Not a very good one, but a distraction nevertheless.

He can feel it. The change in his partner's behaviour. He isn't standing as close as he did the day before and the calm aura that usually radiated from him is gone, leaving heavy silence and distance.

At this point Koushi isn't sure this is better than Sawamura trying to strike a conversation with him and bugging him in general.

And then he remembers Kuroo's joke and he is glad they are not communicating in the slightest.

"Here you go."

A wrapped baguette nudges his arm and he turns to see Sawamura, smiling shyly at him.

With a muttered "thanks" he takes the food and moves to the couch with big strides, as far away as possible from him.

And that's when he snaps.

"I don't bite you know."

It comes as a shock to him, that the guy who wanted to be on his good graces from the moment they laid eyes on each other suddenly actively tries to piss him off.

"I know", he answers sharply, looking away. Because although he is shaking with rage, his heart is quivering.

If this goes towards the direction he thinks it's going, he is not ready.

He wants to throw up because he's not ready.

"It doesn't seem like it."

He is annoyed, probably because his teammate ignores and glares at him instead of reciprocating his friendly - to say the least -  way of acting.

Koushi can't blame him.

"It's fine, Sawamura-"

"You keep telling me that, when clearly everything is not fine", he cuts him off, voice heavy. "And it would be crazy to say it is."

He comes nearer, the only separation between them a coffee table.

"We are chosen to leave our homes and slaughter people our age because it's the only way to come out alive while other people watch us on tv for entertainment. We get paired up with complete strangers instead of our own countrymen to honor our great nation and for- for suspense."

The words fly out of him, dripping of irony.

Sawamura doesn't seem like a person who has conniption fits.

I was never so offensive before the Games, Koushi can't help thinking.

People change.

Things change them.

"We are all we've got. You can't win with Kiyoko and I can't win with Michimiya and I won't let some snarky asshole lower my chances! The fact that I'm gay doesn't mean that..."

Koushi stared at him at a loss for words.

He openly admitted that he is gay?

Wait

"Wait."

He raises his voice to capture Sawamura's attention.

"You like...boys?" he hears himself whisper conspiratorially.

He receives an annoyed look and a nod of confirmation that for some reason makes him let out the breath he has been holding.

I'm not the only one.

He never talks about this. Never told anyone about this.

Because boys can't love other boys in district eleven.

That's what they told him at least, when he asked a long time ago.

He heard about stories from the progressive parts of the Capitol, such as district one. How men could love men and live together without being judged. They even take children from orphanages under their roof and raise them as their own.

He has never shown any interest in girls. He assumed it would go away when he got older and that it's something that can't be found.

However, as the years passed, he understood that there are boys who love boys in his district, same thing applying to girls.

They just don't live much longer after the get caught.

It was never public, for all eyes to see. It happened at night, when heads hit the pillow and windows were sealed shut.

"Their abnormal behaviour is a sign that they are in need of time in a correctional facility", officers used to say when those people were filed as missing by their families.

But they never came back, no matter how much relatives pressed on the issue.

Some of them, though, would act as if their child were gone, not mentioning anything to the police after their sentence had ended.

And they looked relieved.

Koushi didn't want to disappear.

He must be staying silent for a long time, snapping from his trance after Sawamura addresses him a couple of times.

"Are you okay?"

Most of the anger has dissipated from his face only to be replaced by worry.

Koushi laughs.

It's not loud, nor does it last long, but it escapes his lips anyway, ringing around the apartment.

"Yeah... I uh... I'm gay too."

He lets it out and looks his partner in the eye.

Only to find out that he's blushing furiously.

"Oh"

Sawamura averted his gaze with a fond smile.

"Okay."

Chapter Text

"Next!"

The hairdresser's voice booms in Koushi's ears, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He has been waiting for his turn for about half an hour, unconsciously running his hands through his silver, wavy hair and occasionally rubbing small strands between his index finger and thumb.

He doesn't even like his hair. The way it falls over his eyes always gets him mildly irritated and the colour reminds him of his father's face when he layed inside of his mahogany cascet on an early Sunday morning, eyes closed and lips slightly apart, as if he wished to tell them one last thing beore he left but never got the time to do so.

He has never let it grow this much after his father passed away. It just happened that over the last couple of months they couldn't possibly afford a trip to the barber's, since they would have to sacrifice a week's worth of food to pay for both his and Suzume's haircut.

Now, sitting on a leather couch, staring insistently at the clock hanging on the cold grey wall across him and watching its hands move agonisingly slow and reaching past twelve o' clock -the time of his arranged appointment-, he waits to get his hair cut.

Yamaguchi's announcement about it caught him off guard at first, but he figured that the Capitol would rather have him appear on national television and be presentable and not...

the way I am. H e guesses that's the best way to phrase it.

What he didn't expect is for him to be completely alone and to be taken care of by a personalised stylist.

He and Kiyoko -as the other pairs of the rest of the districts he supposes- got updated by Takeda about their weekly schedule the night after their first day.

After this week - which is dedicated to taking care of their appearance and fitness in general- they are to continue training for the rest of month, each day presenting something more challenging in order to help them perfect their combat skills. On Saturday night they will be attending the annual Hunger Games ball, where they will "take a night off their vigorous work and exhausting practice to get acquainted with each other and celebrate the joy of the Games".

The words flew in such a rehearsed manner out of their escort's mouth he wanted to punch him right in the eye.

They echoed in his ears, until he was called.

He turns his head to see a woman in her mid twenties, dressed in tight blue pants that are ripped at her thighs and shins and a red sleeveless blouse that leaves little to the imagination. Her top matches her lipstick, that contrasts her pale complexion, but the thing that catches his attention more than anything else is her short hair, colorful and wild.

"Sugawara, right?" her nasal voice is more tender than a moment ago, probably after seeing Koushi in this pitiful state. He is dressed in his usual grey outfit, strongly resembling a prisoner who just escaped a correctional facility.

All he can do is nod in response as he gets on his feet and moves to her direction.

She smiles a big smile, snickering as he is now directly in front of her.

"Wow, give me a break man! Is there anyone who isn't taller than me?", the words escape her mouth with no bite, floating in the air in a juvenile tone which doesn't match her appearance.

Koushi gathers his courage and gives her a breathy laugh. However, she is right to be in despair. This girl is positively the shortest person he has ever seen. In order to make proper eye contact with her he has to look downwards and considering he himself is of average height, one could mistake her for a child, if it weren't for her mature vibes.

"Anyway, come in. Sorry you had to wait, I kind of slept in... but you don't have to tell Takeda-san that", she says and gestures for him to come inside with an apologetic look dancing on her face.

"Welcome to my den! I'll make you so handsome all the Capitol girls will root for you!"

He could almost laugh.

Without even realising, his mind runs off to Sawamura, shocking him to pieces after he catches himself.

The hairdresser busies herself with arranging some scissors -Koushi wonders why would one have so many of them, since they are all used for one thing and that is for cutting- and he slowly finds his place, sitting on one of the big metallic chairs with armrests, staring at spotless mirrors in front of them.

At the sight of his reflexion he notices the dullness in his eyes, along with the black circles under them. Ever since he left his home, he hasn't managed to close his eyes for more than a few hours, waking in the middle of the night from his racing heartbeat and a house in the forest haunting his dreams.

He discreetly glances right and left and sees posters of men with various haircuts and make up, shooting the camera a charming look. His eyes fall on her, as she tries to decide between two hairdryers. Eventually she picks the large navy blue one and crosses the room to stand behind Koushi.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kaori" she flashes a toothy smile, brighter than the first, as she quietly waits for him to share his own given name.

"I'm Koushi", he remarks and their eyes meet in the mirror.

This could be way worse, he can't help but think.

"So, listen, I've been given some directions about what to do with your hair, but it's not much. They just told me no weird colors and no long hair, so..." she trails off, not needing to say that she will definitely give him more than a light trim. "But other than that you can pretty much knock yourself out. Just tell me what you want and your wish is my command."

If he could request one thing, that would be to keep his hair long.

Suzume recently got into hairdressing and she used him on several occasions as her playing doll, braiding the silver locks of hair, either placing fragrant daisies and forming a flower crown or just messing with it, much to his displeasure.

Now he would give anything to pick the stray petals from his head after she was done, evn if he was mostly tired o his long strands making him hot during the summer and blocking his vision.

"Uh...I don't have anything in mind to be honest..."

A small pause follows as she pops the anticipated question:

"You're from eleven right?"

Koushi nods in affirmation.

"Okay, okay, we'll figure it out together then."

He doesn't know if he should be angry at the sympathetic tone in her voice or just accept it.

He is far too emotionally drained to defend his district so he just goes along with it, watching as Kaori gives him an observatory look and her eyes light up.

"I got it, dude. Here's what I'll do: I'm gonna shave some of your hair and trim the upper half, so it looks like it slowly fades to the bottom. It's called wait for it...fade!" she laughs at her own joke, earning a smile from Koushi. "It sounds extreme, but trust me it's something else. It'll look like that."

She points at the poster at the wall behind them and he turns around to get a better look.

"Okay", he finds his self agreeing. It looks quite good.

"Awesome!", Kaori beams and pulls a cloth over Koushi's chest and lap.

She works quietly, the buzzing of the razor and the gum smacking in her mouth the only sounds that reach his ears.

Looking back into the times he's gotten a haircut, this experience is much different. In the past years it was mainly him and the barber, clipping away and done within ten minutes, though, as the first twenty minutes pass, he realises it will take a while this time.

Kaori catches his look at the clock through the mirror and murmurs with a giggle: "I might be slow, but I'm effective. Hang in there, kid."

"It's fine, don't worry."

"You're so polite.", her breath tickles his neck." Yesterday I was called in to cut some boy's hair, he was actually your age, and the little shit wouldn't stop nagging. 'I want blond highlights'...So cocky.", she imitated with a ridiculously deep voice. She managed to pull a laugh out of him that was quickly about to fall. "I hope you kill him for me out there", she continued with a scarily serious look.

Koushi isn't sure how to respond to her little rant, even though he is one hundred percent sure about who this person might be. The fact that they share a hairdresser shouldn't bother him, although it settles in his skin with an annoying prod, reminding him of his vibrant presence.

Oikawa has a tendency to do just that.

He settles with silence, even though he knows he can do better than that.

She knows too.

"Not very talkative, huh?"

"Sorry, I'm just a bit tired", he lies through his teeth.

Silence.

"You're not tired. You're scared out of your fucking mind. I get it. Well, I don't get it, but you got every right to be mad or mean or, for God's sake, quiet. Even that other guy does. All of you are going to die, except for two lucky bastards, maybe just one. I joke about it, but it's because jokes make me forget that most of the people I see will die."

She avoids mentioning that Koushi will most likely also die.

Again he is dumbfounded. This hair appointment feels more like a therapy session.

However that doesn't mean he doesn't understand what she says.

"I...know."

"I know you know, dude. You're the type who knows."

She is done with the shaving and the image he sees in his reflexion does not even remind him of the target look. But Koushi doesn't mind, even if it doesn't work out in the end. However, she seems confident, glancing every once in a while at her work in the mirror and continuing meticulously.

"How old are you anyway?"

He suddenly feels even more thankful towards her. Anything to distract him from his thoughts right now.

"Sixteen"

"Aw, man, I'm getting old. I'm twenty four. Born and raised here in the Capitol, where all dreams come true", she doesn't even bother to lace her voice with irony. "I was hired two years ago and I styled the Games last year."

Koushi remembers watching last year's host commenting on the "beautiful work on this year's outfits" and " the amazing potential our new stylist holds".

Two weeks later word got out that the previous stylist was killed for conspiring against the Capitol with the rebellious pieces of his new collection. National television, however, attributed his death to cancer.

"Who are you teamed up with? Maybe I am in charge of his hair two", she jokes.

"His name is Sawamura, he's from district one"

"Oh...I don't think he's on my list. Poor guy...his head will never be graced by my magic hands.", she remarks with a dramatic sigh. "Do you guys get along?"

Do we ever.

"Yeah, I guess."

Their chat stops abruptly, in order for Kaori to focus and perfect her last snips, removing excess hair and applying some finishing touches.

After she removed the bib-like cloth, she dried the remaining tufts and after placing them carefully like a work of art she declares:

"Done! Wow, it really suits you!"

At the sight of his finished coiffure, he almost couldn't recognize himself.

He certainly could distinguish a change in his appearance, his face renewed with a never before seen maturity. Most of his hair is gone, transfusing a paleness to his face and highlighting his honey brown orbs.

It's...different.

I'm different, it hits him.

"Thanks", helooks at her through the mirror, his features radiating genuine satisfaction.

Thanks...Thank you...

What day is it?

He mentally counts the days and nights he's spent in the Capitol, heart suddenly pounding at the thought of forgetting.

Thursday.

Oh thank God.

"Um, again thank you so much, I-"

"No problem! We'll keep in touch since I'm your stylist, so I'll see you soon! Sorry I'm in such a hurry", she says as she starts organising everything she took out of place while giving Koushi a haircut, "but I have another appointment so you gotta move it bro..."

She masks her uneasiness with an airy laugh.

Koushi immediately gets up at that, walking outside. "No, don't worry about it. Just...do you know if there's a prayer room in the hotel?"

~*~

It's considered family tradition by now. Every Thursday night they gather around the table, join hands and talk about their day, mention the high and low points, express their thanks and pray for whatever was troubling them.

Koushi's mother decided to incorporate this habit ever since her children lost their father - and she also said her last goodbye to her husband- and the atmosphere was slowly becoming too suffocating to handle. It started slow, each one hesitant to share their thoughts -and fears- about the future, but it wasn't long before tears were shed and replaced by hopeful smiles.

They talk about many things: some major and some trivial, but essential for the weekly ritual nonetheless. It's important to express yourself, even if you have nothing in particular to say. This method is not completely effective, after all Koushi and Suzume always try to protect each other, concealing any worrisome thoughts that gnaw at their insides in fear of troubling the other. Their mother, however, is always a safe sanctuary.

Was , he corrects himself, suddenly feeling lonelier than he has even felt during the last couple of days.

He can't help but wonder whether their previous session is going to be his last.

He has a tendency of doing that lately.

Walking with heavy limbs into the prayer room -which miraculously exists in this hellhole- he quickly spots the corner filled with pictures of saints, some candles standing on a small metallic bowl filled with sand and placed on a wooden coffee table and a few stools. Before approaching towards the piece of the room dedicated to Christianity, he takes in the rest of the space, identifying some symbols and failing to recognise most. The vast majority of District 11 are Orthodox Christians and very devoted ones at that.

It's only sane to turn to religion when every other aspect of life is falling apart and betraying you.

He himself struggles to serve the Lord and follow every word of the Bible, but he sees a superior entity as a comforting force during difficult times like this.

He isn't completely alone, even though he is well aware that the Church would never accept him the way he truly is.

He believes that God will.

He hopes that God will.

There's something soothing about the deafening silence that surrounds him when he shuts the door. His feet drag slightly as he walks on the grey carpet covering the floor in its whole surface and sits right next to the makeshift candle holder, thanking the heavens above that noone thought of coming here at the same time as him.

He raises a candle with trembling hands and brings it close to an already lit one, catching fire and burning slowly as he settles it right beside the rest of them, saying a prayer.

God, please keep my family safe and fed. Give them strength. Give me strength as well.

In his state of uncertainty, he feels sure about one thing and one thing only as he recites internally with his eyes closed:

Our Father who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us,

and lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

By the prayers of our Holy Fathers,

Lord Jesus Christ, our God,

have mercy upon us and save us.

Ame-

A loud crash jolts him aware, causing him to nearly fall off as irritation grows thicker in his bones.

And then the door opens.

"Sugawara-kun, what a pleasant surprise!" words of honey echo through the mostly empty room, disrupting any peace and quiet he had managed to find.

Sure enough, when he turns his head to glare at him, he is met with a face splitting grin and fierce brownish hair, this time a bit shorter and splayed in a more sophisticated manner on his head, glistening with waves of blond highlights.

His expression must be flooding with rage, Koushi realises as he sees Oikawa's triumphant face.

But he won't allow him to win.

"Could you keep it down? This is a prayer room", he whispers repremandingly, trying desperately to remain calm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he borderline screams, unfased by Koushi's discreet complaint. "I was just looking for you and I'm so happy I found you! Where were you all day?", he asks nonchalantly.

Today Koushi has managed to sleep a grand total of four hours, which, compared to previous attempts was just fine. He even tricked himself into feeling refreshed this morning. He stayed up all night, his racing thoughts keeping him alert no matter what he tried to sooth his anxiousness.

He guesses it's because among the things that cause him a suffocating feeling in bed at night is his and his family's safety.

However early in the morning his muscles finally loosened up, followed by his droopy eyelids. He was woken up by Yamaguchi an hour before his appointment in order to get ready and eat breakfast without hurrying.

But that's none of Oikawa's business.

"I was at the hairdresser's", he replies as he gets up to exit the room.

If Oikawa was willing to be noisy, Koushi should make sure he annoys him and only him. There might be someone who wants to sit here and be left alone with their toughts.

Someone other than him, who was rudely interrupted.

"Ohh, I see.", Oikawa murmurs following trailing after him like a puppy. "Oh right! That big mop of hair is gone! You look so stylish now."

"Thanks", the other boy replies shortly, having made his mind to walk towards the hotel lobby.

There is a regulation that forbids tributes who are not on the same team to meet in each others rooms. All interaction must happen outside their private appartments.

When first told that such rule exists Koushi pondered upon how many people have been killed before they even competed in the Games before this modification.

He is grateful for its existence.

That, however, does not mean he intends on letting Oikawa know in which floor he is staying.

It's not really that difficult to find out. The teams stay on the floor that has the same number as one of the tribute's districts.

In this case, Koushi and Sawamura's appartment is situated at the eleventh storey, whereas Michimiya and Hinata's at the first.

All it takes is a ride with the elevator and a knock on the door to locate him. He supposes that the older boy will eventually snoop around and find them, if he hasn't done it already.

One can hope.

"So..." Oikawa says stretching the o while jogging slightly to catch up with Koushi. "Have you guys thought about my proposal?"

He plays along as he wracks his head for a way to get rid of him and go back to his room to rest.

"Not really. Sorry, things are quite hectic and once me and Sawamura get done with practice we hit the pillow instantly", he answers sounding quite distracted.

"Oh, come on, Sugawara-kun~", Oikawa whines, slinging an arm over Koushi's shoulders. "Don't be so stiff! Think of all the fun we could have!"

The gesture made the silver haired boy realise how much strength and size Oikawa holds over him. It would be almost impossible to beat him in a fistfight.

"Sawamura told you we'll think about it, be patient", he retorts with a forced laugh, avoiding eye contact.

Speaking of Sawamura ...

"By the way, do you know where he is?", Koushi inquires. Oikawa might have come to nag him after annoying Sawamura. After all Koushi hasn't seen him all day.

"Sawamura? No... I thought you would know his exact location for sure ", Oikawa replies with a sultry tone, giving Koushi a knowing look.

Of course Kuroo told him.

"No, actually", Koushi deadpans.

Looking at his future opponent's face it becomes clear to him that he has lost the little game they were playing.

Feeling tired of the whole conversation, he decides it's time to make up an excuse and leave.

"Anyway, I think I'm gonna head up. Lunch should be ready in a few so..." he says and slowly makes his way to the elevator.

"Okay! I actually have to go too, arranged practice with Kuroo. Tell Sawamura-kun I said hi~" Oikawa yells as Koushi presses the call button repeatedly.

Upon the closing of the metallic doors, he exhales loudly.

Putting up a front is hard.

The fact that he also didn't get a chance to finish praying sends prickles of guilt down his spine.

He wonders what his family might be doing right now.

He wonders whether his mother and sister miss him as much as he misses them.

He hopes not.

Chapter Text

From an outsider's perspective, Sawamura Daichi might seem like the typical guy from District one. He's fit, masculine, appears quite unfazed by his horrific fate and right off the bat a strong contender in this year's Games.

That, however, couldn't be farther from the truth.

Daichi was born and raised in riches, but that didn't stop his family from teaching him the value of hard work, reminding him to see everything from a perspective. He was lucky enough to live in a mostly accepting society, but never courageous enough to reveal his true self. Aside from Asahi, Koushi is the only person who knows a very private detail about him and it quite honestly shocked him when he decided to blurt out this sensitive piece of information to a person who has so far shown hatred at worst and a desire to maintain a certain distance from him, both physically and emotionally, at best.

But he couldn't help but try and approach his teammate, for practical and also personal reasons.
They need to unite as one to even think about coming on top. Daichi also happens to find Sugawara Koushi intelligent, sensitive and honestly screwed over.
He hasn't said anything to him directly, but from the way his eyes seem hollow most of the time and the fact that he seldom smiles -mostly at Yamaguchi and almost always failing to conceal his sadness- one could easily tell that he is troubled.

After all, he lives in District Eleven.

What honestly floored him was the fact that his partner, coming from the most conservative Districts of Panem and explicitly denying ever being attracted to the same gender, has admitted the exact opposite to him.

Of all people.

He couldn't deny that from the moment he embarassed himself when they first met, he had found Koushi stunningly charming, but his tries to build up walls between him and Daichi can -and will if not dealt with- reduce their chances of coming out of this alive.
He rercognises Sugawara's skills and his ability of defending himself against assholes from upper-class Districts like Oikawa, even though Daichi felt the need to step in, a decision he regretts now facing its consequences.
The warm feeling spreading in his chest after hearing Sugawara's response following his out of character rant remains strong as he replays the scene in his mind.

However cognitive skills will only take Sugawara so far.
Daichi, while not as bright as Koushi, is more physically prepared for this ordeal. And while brains are highly valued during a time like this, combat is inevitable and Daichi knows very well that his partner could never improve so drastically to be able to defeat someone if it comes down to fighting, especially against experienced opponents like Kouro or Oikawa.

God he wants to punch them so hard.

He comes from an environment in which not only are children thuroughly prepared to physically be in top shape in case they are chosen to compete, but many times passionate young men and women would volunteer to be selected to the point where a special ballot is made specifically for them.
That was until last year, when the government made the executive decision of banning volunteering at Districts One and Two.
But for this new regulation Daichi would most probably be home right now, escaping the jaws of peril since many others would gladly take his place.

He has reached the conclusion that fate is cruel.

The irony of it all is that he wasn't chosen in the first place. The one exception to the ban of willingly becoming a tribute is the case of taking the place of a person who is deemed physically or mentally unfit to participate.

That was no other than his own deathly sick twin brother.

No matter how friendly terms the Capitol and District One are on, the frequent requests for exempting District One from the Games are declined every time.
The Capitol is the Capitol and no matter how powerful one might be, bending the rules would no doubt be seen as either social injustice or an excuse for an open rebellion, both of which would lead to riots.

Panem might be ruled by a powerful, military-based regime, but even the strongest should know not to poke the bear.
Much less the starving bear.

They do, however, try to keep the pillars of the operation happy.
The sick are not allowed to compete in the Hunger Games as tributes and will be replaced by a sibling or -in the case where there is none or they aren't between twelve and eighteen years of age- the ballot would be drawn again. The Games aren't designed to kill those who can't escape the clutches of death anyway. They aim for the ones who are still standing proudly, as if their mere existence is an offence and a danger to Panem.

That's why Daichi is currently in this situation, insgtead of his brother who has been suffering from leukemia since the tender age of fourteen.
Despite being terminal -the exact amount of time he has left is not known- Asahi never lost his spirit, his selflessness and, above all, his kind heart.
That's why even when he started losing weight, slowly but gradually becoming almost unhealthily thin, and when the glow from his eyes started fading, Daichi started to act as if his brother will one day be cured.

Maybe that's why he decided to never mention to anyone that Asahi's days are numbered. Everyone would find out eventually in the interviews, since the Organizers always try their best to dig up anything and everything they can about the tributes so the extra days of pitiful looks from Sugawara -because he may be cold but he does have a heart and he definitely wouldn’t want anything of the sort happening to his own sister- and the cruel teases from Oikawa and people of his lot are not only unecessary but also unbearable.

For now he just focuses of getting his hair done. He woke up quite early, since he couldn’t really rest, if fussing and turning under the covers is considered resting. He tiptoed through his morning routine, not wanting to disturb Sugawara, since more silence and distance between them is the last thing they need, forced some bread and fruit down his throat and after grabbing his keys went out the door before the sun could hit the large window of the dining room in their apartment.
His feet drag against the grey carpet in the corridors of the Grand Hotel of Tributes, his mind too groggy to register where exactly he’s heading. He still has a couple of hours until his appointment, even though it is scheduled at eight. Before he knows it, he ends up in a café he never remembers seeing before.

Then again he hasn’t done much exploring to find out what the hell is in this place.

It’s mostly empty, even the barista leaning against a counter, waiting for new customers with droopy eyes. He straightens his back at the sight of Daichi, speaking in a voice so loud compared to the heavy silence it almost startles the boy.

“We’re open for business”, he smiles lightly.

“Oh, thanks but I don’t want anything…”

“Whatever you order is free, since you’re…” the barista insists quietly but hesitates. “Maximum amount of drinks per day is three”, he says instead.

“He’ll have a black coffee” a gruff voice interrupts them and this time Daichi is startled. As he turns his head to see who is awake at the crack of dawn he makes eye contact with an unknown man.

“I’m fine, thanks…” he responds, but the stern look the older sends to the barista is enough for him to start making the beverage without saying a word.
At this Daichi feels irritation growing in his skin.

“Do I know you?”

The man takes a long drag from his cigarette and inhales deeply. “No, but it’s time you did. I’m Sugawara and your mentor, Ukai Keishin. I will work together with the mentor from your district.”

Daichi is taken aback in the least.
This guy looks like the people he gave food to back home when his school visited a homeless shelter.

“Oh”

“Yeah, I know, not much of a victor at first glance”, Ukai voices Daichi’s inner thoughts. “But I would advise you to get all the help you can. Even for kids like you winning shouldn’t be taken for granted”, he borderline reprimands.

Judging by Sugawara’s opinion regarding the people of District One, Daichi isn’t really surprised that another person from Eleven is so heavily prejudiced against him.
Then again, they’re the ones starving and living in horrid conditions, in contrast to his privileged life. The fact, however, that they don’t seem willing to give him a chance in order to prove he at least isn’t like any other District One tribute -or so he likes to think- hurts and aggravates him to say the least.

“If I were you I would wipe that sour look of my face and sit down”, the man murmurs, staring at his finished coffee.
With a roll of his eyes, Daichi takes a seat next to him in a table for two in the farthest corner from the entrance.

“I know about you. Well, I don’t know everything, but I like to think I know enough to roughly size you up”
Daichi doesn’t know if his raw honesty scares or enrages him even further.

“I don’t think you’re dumb, so I assume you have figured out who is the brains and who the brawn in your team.”

“Yes” he admits blankly.

“ I imagine that you are also facing some difficulties in approaching Sugawara”

“…Yeah”

“That was expected. You come from two very different backgrounds and people like Sugawara have gotten the short end of the stick when it comes to basically everything. But you already know that.”
Ukai takes the boy’s silence as a sign to continue:

“I talked to your other mentor and will talk to Sugawara. All four of us will also talk probably later today or tomorrow to prepare for what’s coming” he ends almost whispering.

The barista serves Daichi his black coffee and with a nod leaves, proceeding to his semi slumber.
“I’ll say this and you’re free to drink your coffee: you two must work together if you want to have a chance of winning. No teaming up with anyone else. Everyone will eventually screw you over. Sugawara is the only one you can trust. Same goes for him.”

“I know”

“He knows too. He just can’t accept it yet.”

After a moment of pregnant silence, Daichi goes:
“I don’t drink coffee”

“If you can’t sleep at least stay awake without feeling like you wanna pass out” Ukai says with a breathy chuckle, getting up from his seat.
“Well that’s enough interaction with District One for the morning” he jabs. “I’ll see you around, kid”

Daichi lets out a sigh, “Yeah”

Still not entirely awake and aware, he almost thinks that the last ten minutes were a figment of his imagination or a very odd dream. He tries drinking the coffee, a bitter taste hitting him instantly. He ignores it, knowing very well that without caffeine he wouldn't last the day.
Having no other option as to what to do nor wanting to explore the hotel further, he idles around in the cafe, waiting the time to pass, mind wandering to his family.

During his short amount of residing in the Capitol he has seen tributes crying, especially young teens, clearly not ready to be separated -probably forever- from their families, but also tributes laughing, trying so hard to giggle their terifying thoughts away it's painful to watch. There are also a few who remain quite emotionless, keeping the storm in their head for themselves. Daichi puts himself under that category. Simply the thought of what he has left behind makes him feel hollow and without purpose.

So he settles for crying behind closed doors.

But in the dead quiet of the cafe, without anything to distract him from dwelling about home, he feels the strong urge to ball his eyes out like there is no tomorrow.

He remembers the last time he saw his brother and parents very clearly.

His father never comes to the Reapings in fear of jinxing the process, so they said their goodbyes in their home. Their relationship doesn't stray far from a typical father-son dynamic, however neither of them shied away from saying "I love you" at times like this.

"I'll see you in a few", he said with a weak smile. "Don't be late and take care of your brother"

That goes without question Daichi recalls thinking while nodding curtly.

They walked to the building in which two persons' lives are ruined every year, a large, luxurious structure with a slow pace. Daichi pushed the wheelchair carrying his brother with caution, desperately trying to calm his nerves. He tried but failed to forget the fact that, unlike most, his chances of being chosen are doubled because in the case where his brother is picked, he would take his place.

He loves his brother, his rock, his best friend, like no other.

But he didin't want to fight in the Hunger Games and the monster inside him reared its ugly head, barely audible but crystal clear in Daichi's head:

Why should I die too?

"Go any slower and I might fall asleep" Asahi attempted to lift their spirits with his lighthearted humor. Daichi managed a hollow chuckle and continued with slightly faster steps.

"This okay or does your sorry ass wanna go early to the Reaping?" he retorted without any bite.

In general Daichi is a quite dense person, not precicely knowing how to move smoothly around a conversation. His brother is the only one easy to talk to, both of them knowing each other's boundaries and respecting them.

"That's rich coming from someone who can't stand being even a minute late" Asahi played along.

"Boys, settle down", their mother's light chastising ends any other joke.

Nothing is worse than not being able to survive cancer. But having a child who won't survive cancer comes a close second.

The two brothers often used to pay no heed to their mother's reprimands, too focused in fooling around. That, however, changed when they found out why Asahi felt sleepy all the time and bruised so easily. Ever since then he has carefully listened to his mother, Asahi being too weak to oppose anyway.

Sawamura Ayame always worried for her kids, never being the one to spend time with them, opting instead to insure the family's financial stability in order to ensure the best for her children. She never really understood the importance of being there for her sons before the doctors told her that she would be losing one of them.

She quit her job, passing her jewellery business on to her sister, started taking care of Asahi and actually taking time to talk to Daichi as well.
Her worry especially spiked these days, not being able to fathom her life wihtout one of her children, much less without both.

Reapings in District One are conducted in a large theater-like space. Given that One is quite small, there are no problems with the number of children ages twelve to eighteen.

After registering, Asahi and Daichi sat in the designated set of chairs for handicaped people. Asahi took his seat, holding on to his brother and landing while slightly panting. They sat next to each other, waiting for every young boy and girl to anxiously settle to their seats.

"Bro...", Asahi was the first to break the silence without making eye contact.

"Yeah?"

"...I'm sorry"

At that moment, Daichi felt crippled from guilt. He may not wanted to take his brother's place, but it never really crossed his mind that there is a possibility -small but very much there- that Asahi would have to watch helplessly as his brother would be sent to die because of him.

He abruptly turned his head to face him.

"Shut up. I don't wanna hear stupid shit like that. It's not your fault that you're sick and it's definitely not your fault that the President is fucking crazy..."

"Daichi", Asahi whispered worriedly, looking around to make sure that noone is close enough to listen to what his brother just said. While the Capitol and District One are on good terms, just like any other place, the Games are not particularly loved and combined with a controlling regime that forbids comerse between districts without its interference, there is pleanty os displeasure expressed behind closed doors. Arrests are not frequent, but people know better than to publicly speak against their President.

"I don't care. Promise me that you don't feel responsible for this."

Their eyes locked, Daichi's hazel orbs boring into his brother's tired ones.

"I promise" Asahi said after a small pause.

They kept quiet.

The whole process is always a blur to Daichi. He fails to hear or see anything, blinded by his terrifying thoughts about the worst case scenario and deafened by his racing heartbeat. Everytime his eyes landed on the woman on the stage -District one's escort- her wide smile made him furious. He knew that she is most probably obligated to smile -noone likes a gloomy escort- but in the few moments he wasn't drowned by his thoughts he was constantly trembling with rage.

She acts as if someone is going to win the lottery if they're chosen.

They always start from the girls, which in his opinion only makes things worst, prolonging the torturous wait.

Michimiya Yui is picked, a girl Daichi actually knew. Their relationship was one of mere aqcuaintance. Yui was smart, captain of the female volleyball team and an honor student, always one to show confidence and courage. However, during her walk to the stage, she looked consumed by fear, all colour drained from her face.
Noone dared make a sound, her light steps the only thing heard while she made her way to the escort.

He figured pleading to any God woudln't save him, so he just closed his eyes. And indeed he didn't hear his own name.

"Sawamura Asahi!"

His stomach churns even thinking about the tearful goodbyes he shared with his family. He doesn't believe in anything, but if there is someone or something superior to them somewhere, he pleads that they keep Asahi alive for him to see if he ever returns home.

Before he could register anything he feels moisture running down his cheeks.

He must have been there for quite a while, he realises by taking a look at the wall clock of the cafe. Ten to eight.

After gathering himself, he gets up with a sniffle and asks the barista where the hairdressing appointments for District One are. Ironically he'd had his hair cut just a few days before the Reaping, so no major change -if any adjustment- was made by the bald short man, who introduced himself as "Furukawa-san, your barber and stylist". After twenty minutes of basically just applying gel to his hair, he tells Daichi he's done.

He might have been up for only a few hours, however as he starts to head towards his room he can feel the exhaustion from his morning thoughts and whereabouts. Turns out coffee just doesn't have any effect on him.

Slowly opening the door he hopes that he won't catch neither Yamaguchi nor Sugawara in the apartment. Sugawara never leaves his room apart from using the bathroom and eating, ocasionally chatting with the young servant. Daichi feels shut out even when it comes to talking to Yamaguchi, since he -quite reasonably but also unfairly- prefers talking to someone who understands his hardships.

Daichi isn't dumb. He stopped believing that everyone lead the same life as him ever since he was a little boy, his parents watching the news about the protests from Districts such as Eleven and Twelve due to the lack of resources and food. Mysteriously enough a huge fire broke out mere days after the whole incident, whiping out nearly half of Eleven's crops and killing hundreds of people who lived near the woods.

Judging from the silence and the shut door of his room, he realises his teammate must be still sleeping. Yamaguchi, however, is right there, preparing what Daichi assumes to be lunch. Sensing eyes on him, the young boy turns around startled. "Sawamura-san, good morning. I came to fix you breakfast an hour ago, but you weren't here so I figured-" "It's fine, Yamaguchi, don't worry", he reassures the anxious servant. "I wasn't hungry anyway" "Okay, then", he lets out a laugh that very much resembles a sigh of relief. "Feel free to relax. I will be here until lunch, so whatever you need..." "Got it, thanks"
With quick but quiet strides he heads to his room, a set of four walls rediculusly overdecorated in a quite accurate attempt to resemble One's style.
He crawls under the covers of his snug but foreign bed, running everything that happened to him the past few days in his head for the milionth time and sobbing softly.

Daichi wants Sugawara to confide in him so badly, so that he could make things better, even though he knows that's not going to happen. He is almost positive he can't do anything to help him.

But he's damn willing to try.

Chapter Text

"Mommy, I'm going to ask Kosuke-kun to marry me!", Koushi said with a gleaming smile up until his mother turned from washing the dishes to face him. 

Staring at him horrified.

She emitted a nervous laugh: "What do you mean baby?". Although her tone was casual her eyes obviously reflected fear.

Koushi hesitated.

"I like him and I want to ask him to marry me so that we can have a famiily, like you and Daddy...", he looked down.

"But I don't like Daddy as a friend, Koushi", she replied quite hastily with a tight smile hoping, praying that her child simply didn't know what he was talking about.

"I know...I like like him", the six year old spoke just above a whisper, realising his answer isn't correct after watching his mother's face visibly drop. 

"Are you serious? Does Kosuke-kun like you back?"

Her gaze was piercing, searching, waiting for something. Probably for her son to laugh and say that he was joking.

 
"I don't know...I haven't told him anything yet"

"Have you told anyone about this?" her tone grew more desperate every time he answered the questions fired at him.

Now Koushi definitely knew that he shoudln't have brought this up. 

"No...you said to always come to you if I need advice...I wanted to ask you to help me ask him..." Koushi replied, hot tears running down his pale cheeks.

And that's all it took for her exasperation to fade away. 

"No, no, baby, don't cry", she quickly walked to the table where he was seated, previously eating his supper, engulfing him in a hug, his childish frame fully snuggling against hers.

"Are-are you mad at me?" the boy hiccups and she felt as if she was being stabbed.

"Of course not. I'm not mad at you, honey." She pet his hair in a soothing motion trying to figure out what exactly to say and how to explain such a touchy subject to her beautiful, bright boy.

"Y-You're not?", he sounded muffled since he refused to look at her, crying in her neck.

"I'm not, it's okay, shh", she tried to calm him.

Once they both collected themselves she kneeled next to her son and looked into his red eyes.

"Koushi, I have to talk to you about something very important and I need you to pay attention to what I'm saying."

She received a nod and continued in hopes that she would come across.

"Listen to me. I have no problem with you liking Kosuke-kun, nor does Daddy, but you are not allowed to ask him to marry you. You are not allowed to tell anyone that you like a boy."

Koushi felt tears of frustration bluring his vision. "But why?!" he raised his voice.

"Because if someone finds out you will be taken away from us", she silenced him firmly. "If someone from the District or the church finds out that you like boys, they will take you and we will never see you again. You will never tell anyone about this because we will lose you if you do. Do you understand?", she whispered, voice breaking. 

Koushi nods numbly.

"Say it", she rarely talked to him in such a commanding way.

"I understand"

"Promise me you won't tell anyone"

"I promise" 

"Okay, okay...", she exhailed and embraced him once more.

"I love you so, so much baby, you can't even imagine. I'm only saying these things because we always want to be with you, taking care of you."

"I'm scared", Koushi admitted right after, terryfied and not believing the fact that if someone, even one of his friends found out, he would forever be gone.

He didn't want to leave home.

"Don't be. We will protect you. Noone knows so there is nothing to be afraid of. Mommy and Daddy will always make sure you and your sister are safe.", she sounded so sure, so unbelievably steady. 

For days Koushi woke up startled, haunted by nightmares of him being taken in the middle of the night, his parents trying to get to him but never making it. 

He stopped talking to Kosuke-kun, one of his dearest friends, out of fear that he would suspect his feelings. He looked at the priest, who he so much admired, with dread, almost waiting for him to call him out just by something he said or did that could potentially reveal his secret. 

He often drowned in his anger toward this man, the person who was his closest means of communicating with God, the person who preached about His never-ending love for people, no matter what. 

He spent hours upon hours of muting everyhting around him, thinking about what he did that day, whether he made a mistake that would end up exposing him, jumping every time there was a knock on the door. 

Eventually he grew up and mastered how to remain calm and collected, maintaining his bright smile and lighthearted humor even though at times he was suffocating. By the time he reached puberty the fact that God would never accept him the way he was had almost fully sunk in. It must be true since He decided to take his Dad away from them instead of killing him during the big famine. 

He never talked to his mother about this matter again.

Thinking back he really wishes to have told his father. He knows that he was most likely aware of the situation, but that didn't help with the prickling guilt of lying to him that has settled heavily in his chest since the day he died. 

He will never forget how hellish his childhood was.

He will also always remember the immence loneliness and desperation in his heart, realising as he grew older that everyone would eventually find someone they wanted to spend the rest of their life with. Instead, he would be stuck in a marriage he never asked for, lying to his partner about his love and sneaking around -if he ever mustered the courage- with someone in the same position, not because he is attracted to him, but just for the sake of feeling something, anything besides being swallowed by dark thoughts.

When he was chosen for the Games, part of him was relieved that he would never have to live the life that was designed for him. 
That changed when he met Sawamura. 

At first he was determined to hate him, just for being someone he wished to be, leading a life he so badly wanted. He sipmly wanted to work with him just to survive for his family. 

However, after seing his genuine character, his willingness to help and approach him, something started stirring inside him. He tries stopping himself from feeling even a glimpse of hope, even after his teammate's outburst, but he can't help hear a voice whispering:

What if we both survive?

No. He can't think like that. That kind of attitude gets people killed. 

And he certainly can't try anything with Sawamura. The risk is so overwhelmingly huge and would in every case end in an awful way. Even if they work, there is no chance both of them  will survive the Games and in the off chance that they do he could never be with him. His people would tear him apart and most importantly make his and his family's life hell. 

He couldn't do that to his mother and Suzume.

On the other hand, if he gets rejected or worse, they decide to end anything that was going on, they wouldn't be in the right mindset and mental state to win a kill-or-get-killed fight against strong competitors. 

But those hopeful eyes of his every time he offers help...

"Lunch is ready!"

Yamaguchi's voice brings him back to reality. 

After coming back from the hairdresser's and greeting the servant, Koushi had gone straight to his room to run everything through his head for the millionth time.

"Be right out", he replies.

As he enters the dining room his nostrills fill with a delightful smell. His eyes land on the plates on the glass table, not quite understanding what is in front of him. 

"Smells amazing, Yamaguchi-kun", he says.

"Thank you Sugawara-s...uh...Sugawara." he says clearly with a small smile, covering his slip up.

His face lights up at the sight of his copatriot. It hasn't even been three days and he's already so fond of him. To be honest, he'd taken a liking to the young boy since the first look they shared, but he likes to tell himself that he's evaluated him careully before choosing to trust him, just like Sawamura. 

With the only difference being his inability to decide whether it is safe to create a tighter bond with him or not.

To be even more honest, the scale is currently tipping in favour of the brounet. Especially after digesting the new information he was given from him the previous day. 

He tries to push the dilemma out of his thoughts for now, refocusing on the servant's words:

"Nice haircut. It really suits you"

"Thanks. It feels a bit out of character", Koushi admits for the first time out loud. Even though he too thinks this new style is the closest to him, he can't help but notice that he would never have looked like this had he stayed back home.

But that didn't happen, he imediately counters.

"Hey guys", Sawamura's voice is heard, grogy from sleeping, Koushi assumes. 

"Hello", Yamaguchi greets him with a worried look. 

After glancing at the teen's face Koushi understand's the servant's slight concern.

 
Sawamura seems as if he had a long and loud cry; eyes red and puffy, simply staring into the distance. He debates saying something.

He settles for a soft "hi".

They all take their seats, including Yamaguchi, after placing everything on the table.

"Today's special, another Capitol classic, eggplants stuffed with minced meat and bechamele sauce on top, served with a side of green salad. Bon appetit.", the boy says beaming, proud of his dish.

Koushi and Sawamura mumble their thanks and dig in.

Yamaguchi's cooking is able to provide the slightest comfort, flavours exploding in their mouths, topped off with the refreshing salad. 

"It's delicious, Yamaguchi-kun", Sawamura comments and Koushi hums in approval.

"Thank you", he replies with rosy cheeks. It's the first time he has recieved a compliment about his work that didn't come from Koushi. 

They continue in silence for a while, immersed in their thoughts. They finish up quickly, so the servant cleans up in the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

"You look...different", Sawamura says out of the blue, kind of catching Koushi off guard.

"Is that a good thing?", he chuckles.

"Yeah. It's very...fashionable"

"Well, they weren't going to let me fight with that hill-Billy mop of hair so..."

"I liked your long hair too. 'Twas unique..."

Koushi's heart flutters the tiniest bit.

"Thanks...my hairstylist was crazy. But in a good way", he giggles.

"Mine left my hair how it is so..."

His thoughts are racing, trying to come up with the best thing to say.

"I can see why. It's not that long. Plus, it's part of your charm. Clean-cut. Like anyone from District One." 

That gets  a breathy laugh, so he figures he did good.

"I guess" 

The dining table is filled with pregnant silence. 

Koushi decides to break it this time.

"What time was your appointment? I thought you never left your room today." 

"It was early in the morning so when I was done I went straight to bed."

Koushi wonders if Sawamura can sleep properly here. 

Taking his teary eyes into consideration he supposes not. 

"Oh...mine was at noon. I ran into Oikawa of all people", he figures he should omit the fact that he interrupted his prayer. For some reason he doesn't want his teammate to find out he is religious just yet. This is one of the few chances he has to make amends with him. He won't ruin it by reinforcing the District Eleven stereotype.

Even though something tells him that he wouldn't be judged.

"Oh God..."Sawamura sighs. "What did he say?"

He implied that we were boyfriends.

"You know...same old same old. That we sould colab and that it would be amazing", Koushi mockingly makes a grand Oikawa-like gesture. Sawamura laughs while face-palming.

"Great. I get the feeling that he's not going to let us go that easily."

"Well, we are easy pray. At least I am."

He imediately regrets letting that slip.

After a short pause, his teammate, whom we knows for three days, and openly disliked for two, says:

"He would have to get through me first" 

He looks right into Koushi's eyes.

"After all, we're on the same team. If we don't work together, there is no chance we can make it out of this."

"Yeah, you're right."

Koushi likes to think Sawamura said it and meant more than just doing the right thing for the team. However, he quickly realises that wishful thinking isn't going to get him anywhere and forces those feelings down, locking them away in a dark corner of his mind like he always does.

"I met your mentor", Sawamura casually mentions.

"Really? Where?"

"In a cafe while I got lost looking for the hairdresser's room."

"And?", Koushi prompts.

"He's...not that offensive."

"He pisses me off. Not as much as my escort though", Koushi says, and they both burst in laughter.

After they catch their breath, Koushi decides to take a leap of faith.

"You know, at first I was so devastated and angry at the escort who chose me, the Games, life...I still am, but I promise not to let it out on you anymore. I'm really sorry."

He feels as though a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

"Thanks...", Sawamura replies. It puzzles him how he has endured so much, his own teammate being distant and hostile to him while his whole world is crashing down, his life on the line, yet still he thanks him.

"It hasn't been easy for me either...I miss my family and my life so much it kills me. But I'm happy that now we can at least have a decent conversation."

His smile is warm enough to reach the deepest parts of Koushi's soul. 

And at this moment he wishes that they had met in different circumstances, so that he could fall in love with him without worrying about a thing.

"So, tell me about District One."

Chapter Text

After merely minutes of talking, Koushi quickly realises how vastly different lives he and Sawamura led. Granted, he knew that not everyone has the same lifestyle as him, considering the devastating poverty and crime rates along with an outdated mentality in District 11. However, what he is hearing sounds like something that came out of a fictional story, making him sit up on the couch of their living room and listen very intently at every word that falls from his teammate’s lips.

Sawamura lived in a two storey house with his twin brother and parents, went to a school that has a swimming pool and a basketball and volleyball court inside the premises, along with a restaurant for the students to have lunch in every day. His mother owned a jewellery shop, but passed it down to her sister after deciding to become a stay at home mom and his father is a mathematician, teaching in one of the District’s top universities.

Sawamura wants to become a professional volleyball player and was training to win a scholarship at the college of his choice to major in Exercise Science in case his first plan didn’t pan out.

He talks about his ideas and wishes as if nothing detrimental had ever happened that could cause a terrifying shift and bring everything as he knew it to come to a screeching halt.

“And every day after school me and my friends would go out for some coffee, or drink coke or something…”

“What’s that?”, Koushi can’t help asking, catching his teammate off guard. Sawamura gives him a puzzled look but quickly recovers.

“Uh…it’s like…”, he struggles to find the proper words to describe something that apparently is so common and well-known that simply everyone knows about, “sweet and fizzy…it’s nice. Although they say it’s bad for your health. It’s also brown.”

“Sounds weird”, Koushi comments, “but I want to try it one day.”

He is positive his sister would very much enjoy this, since she has the biggest sweet tooth.

“I’m sure they have some at the hotel café or somewhere. What about Eleven, how are things there?”

Koushi knows that Sawamura is fully aware of the living circumstances in his home District, however, he is extremely grateful he is given a chance to personally describe his day to day life.

“Well, me, my sister and my mom live in a house on the edge of the woods. Growing up I really loved nature and being outside, so whenever I wasn’t helping out with chores I would be out playing with my friends. Most of Eleven is just small villages, so basically everyone knows each other and everyone cares for each other, which is nice.”

If there is one thing he appreciates about his homeland, it’s the solidarity that united him, his family and pretty much every resident. They always come together as a community in times of need, sharing their limited sources and being there for each other, refusing to submit to the Capitol’s strict and unfair policies without a fight. Policies that took the majority of their wheat production and leaving them to starve during the winter. Through thick and thin, they always know that they have each other. When Koushi’s father died, he couldn’t even see the end of the stream of people walking to his funeral.

He tries not think about how he could lose it all in a heartbeat if they ever knew the truth about him.

At this point he expects the worst to come out of Sawamura’s mouth. Anything ranging from an indiscreet question to an inconsiderate comment. Instead, he receives an answer that blows his mind:

“Wow, I always wanted to live in a forest. Sometimes the city can be a bit tiring”, he finishes with a chuckle.

Once more Koushi has forgotten the fact that he isn’t dealing with just any person from District One. Sawamura’s open-mindedness and acceptance surprises him constantly. He doesn’t feel the need to watch for his back or defend his home, since his teammate never shows any intent of being insulting towards him or the place he comes from, even though it is considered Hell on Earth by many, sometimes by Koushi also. With a baffled expression, he replies:

“At home a lot of times I don’t have anything to do other than work, go to school and hang out with friends so I kind of feel the opposite. It’s really boring most of the time.”

And scary.

And stifling.

And backward-thinking.

Out of nowhere memories of laughter, family dinners, friends, flowers, sunlight filtering through the trees, songs from choir that have a weirdly calming effect, sometimes even trampling his fear of the Church come to mind.

“But it’s nice.”

“ Yeah, it sounds really nice. I often felt like I don’t have time for anything. Between school, sports, extra-curricular activities, homework, it can get suffocating if you can’t organise.”

At that moment he hesitates.

“Not that I’m complaining, I know it can get much worse…”, he shuffles for an explanation, which warms Koushi’s heart.

“Sawamura-kun, it’s okay. Everyone has their own struggles, we shouldn’t diminish that. So don’t try to minimise what you go through.”

He hopes his smile and the endearing honorific can convey his understanding. Sawamura’s shoulders visibly relax.

A pause. Then his eyes fall on the floor, losing their previous glow.

“I guess. I miss everything…I used to be with my family every day, hang out with my brother all the time and I have a bad feeling that I won’t get to do that anymore…”, his voice breaks, tears filling his eyes.

Talking about home, with images of their lives in the past so recent still, the experiences raw, stains their words with nostalgia and a sinking feeling.

“Yeah, me too…”, he catches himself thinking about his mother, Suzume, his father. His face being held by her right before they separated, his promise towards his sister to come back for soup.

His father giving him his share of bread, saying he wasn’t hungry at all, his hollow cheeks suggesting otherwise.

His vision becomes blurry with tears and both of them take a minute to bask in their sadness.

After a few moments pass, Sawamura mutters:

“Some things just have to be felt”

Koushi looks up, sniffling: “What?”

“Some things just have to be felt.”, he says more loudly now, with confidence. “My mom says it all the time.”

Koushi almost laughs at the irony, his own mother always demanding that he shove his feelings deep down, so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to tell Suzume. He can’t blame her, because she spoke out of love, but, even after all these years, he just can’t shake the slight and unfair feeling of betrayal towards her, for not doing something. What exactly he wanted her to do is not totally clear to him.

However, waves of relief wash over him, once it dawns on him that he is free to cry his eyes out in front of Sawamura, without him being judgmental.

He continues weeping, instinctively moving closer to the other boy, resting his head on his shoulder, Sawamura’s arms engulfing him in a warm embrace.

“I hate this”, he mumbles between sobs, Sawamura’s hands rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

*

They spend the rest of their afternoon in their rooms, in an attempt to recover from their talk. Koushi doesn’t know if he feels trapped because of his feelings towards Sawamura, his being away from his favourite people in the world, his terrifying nightmares of getting killed by Oikawa’s hands. A combination of these gripping fears keep his nerves from settling and his eyes from closing at night.

The next day rolls around and morning exercise begins as usual. Koushi continues to struggle with the intensity of the training, constantly out of breath. At noon, all teams retire to their rooms for a couple of hours to eat lunch and to rest. Then, they will train in martial arts.

Koushi dreads this the most. No matter his borderline hatred for some of the tributes, he can never bring himself to go all out on them on the training mat. His hesitance on direct physical confrontation combined with his poor fighting skills, result in him getting pummelled every time he faces any opponent during his brief time learning hand-to-hand combat.

The two boys barely talked all day, not feeling like doing so in the early morning hours, and being exhausted after hours upon hours of training in the afternoon. They enjoy the lunch Yamaguchi had prepared for them, informing them that he could not join them this time, but having served everything on the dining table nonetheless. Koushi really feels at ease with the new aura established between the two of them, putting the yearning feeling of not being able to approach the raven the way he wished to aside.

This is good. They are talking and starting to trust each other, he shouldn’t do anything that puts their partnership at risk.

Even though late at night his stomach fluttered at the thought that they shared a hug, at the way Sawamura’s hands were on his back, muscular yet their touch soft.

“I’m so tired I could just die”, Sawamura says between bites and Koushi responds stating his hatred for martial arts. They continue their meal in comfortable silence and, after resting for a bit, head for training once again.

As they near the practice room, his heart nearly beats out of his chest, urging him to go anywhere besides there. He ignores his dry mouth and tries to enter with Sawamura as nonchalantly as he can manage.

They look around for their former assigned teammates, in hopes of talking to Kiyoko or even Michimiya. Instead, the rowdy group which is feared and despised by almost everyone appears in front of them.

“Hey! There they are!”Kuroo yells, face twisted in a sneaky smirk.

“Hey, what’s up?”, Koushi says.

No way am I letting them psyche us out.

“Oh, nothing much, Sugawara-kun, just feeling lonely without you guys yesterday”, Oikawa fake pouted. “Our short meeting left me craving for more! We should all definitely hang out one day!”, the boy continues in the most obnoxious cheerful tone.

He suppresses the urge to punch that smile off the boy’s face.

“Sure, anytime. Nice haircut by the way”, Sawamura deadpans.

“Why thank you Sawamura-kun, I think it really suits me. Someone noticed at last!”, he teased, looking towards Koushi. “I complimented Sugawara-kun after seeing his makeover but he didn’t, not fair!”, he complained playfully, leaning towards Koushi, his face shifting in a heartbeat.

“You’re going to regret this when we’re in the ring”, he whispers in a sing-song tone.

Koushi remained calm on the outside, panic overflowing him internally.

“And that new hair isn’t gonna help you. You’ll lose no matter how well you look”, the brown-haired boy remarks, bursting in hysterical laughter. Both of them leave to stretch and as they walk away, Koushi can’t help but say in the most confident tone he can pull:

“We’ll see about that.”

Oikawa stops, but doesn’t turn around to reply, meaning he probably is infuriated with the silver-haired boy’s nerve. Once they are left alone, Koushi exhales, exchanging a look with Sawamura.

I’m screwed.

Training begins and after stretching and practicing new attack methods, the time comes for hand-to-hand combat. At first, all tributes are paired up randomly and fight for a few seconds. After that, a top student can pick out anyone they wish to face in front of everyone.

The coach calls Oikawa’s name and Kouhsi’s stomach twists. The boy looks over at Koushi, who is bent over trying to catch his breath from the previous exercise with a murderous look.

“I choose Sugawara Koushi-san”

The room falls silent, the only thing heard being Koushi and Oikawa’s bare feet moving on the training mat towards the ring.

As he moves through the crowd of tributes he receives looks similar to the ones when he was chosen as a tribute back home: of pity and empathy.

A million thoughts go through his mind, trying to rationalize the situation, his heart trembling. Pretty much everything is allowed, except bites. The match ends once someone yields.  

As they both take places, his eyes search for Sawamura in the crowd, as if he could do anything about this. Just as the whistle is about to be blown, Oikawa stares diabolically, whispering:

“Your boyfriend can’t save you now.”

Koushi sees red.

He hears the whistle and goes wild, catching even Oikawa off guard. He punches and kicks anywhere he can manically, not even caring that most of them miss. His opponent moves with ease, avoiding or blocking the majority of attacks, making it seem ridiculously easy. After a while, Koushi’s limbs start burning, and he takes a few steps back, out of breath.

That’s when he realises the severity of his mistake.

Oikawa takes advantage of his tired state, charging with devastating blows in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He staggers away, attempting a kick when Oikawa grabs his leg midway, sending him to the ground. He towers over Koushi, his head spinning from the blows. He suddenly feels the urge to shut his eyes, blinded by the harsh white lights of the training room, his lungs flaming.

The boy lures over him with a malicious, almost hungry look, his figure towering over. Koushi opens his eyes, knowing full well that this isn’t over yet. He gathers his remaining strength to get back up, when Oikawa’s foot forcefully collides with his cheek, making his vision go black for a few seconds. The strike is so powerful, his head slams onto the hard, wooden floor. He can practically hear the older boy’s voice:

I won.

However, looking up at him, Koushi realises that Oikawa is far from his confident and snarky self. He is still in a fighting position, his fists raised near his face. His eyes are glowing with anger, staring Koushi down, with a rock hard resolve. Suddenly he can see it. He isn’t satisfied with the fact that he’s currently beating Koushi. He wants to completely annihilate him. It’s written all over him:

Don’t you dare get up.

Koushi attempts to push himself off the ground. He slowly rolls over grunting, putting all of his weight on his arms. As he lifts his torso, he catches a glimpse of Sawamura, his beautiful features twisted in worry. He wishes he hadn’t looked at all. Before he even gets the chance to do anything, another devastating blow finds his ribcage.

The pain so excruciating, Koushi lets out an ugly scream.

Oikawa lifts him up, only to throw him back down, his face meeting the hardwood floor head on.

At this point he is almost convinced that he is going to die before he even goes to the Games.

Oikawa turns him over, sitting on top of him, knees on both his sides. Then:

“Stay down!” he barks.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to even think that you would have a chance against me, you worthless piece of shit! Go back to Eleven before I make sure you never take another breath!” His voice echoes in the deathly silent room, distorted and filled with rage.

No fucking way.

Koushi persists, weakly hitting his opponent’s thighs while moaning in pain. If he dies now, he will not go down without a fight. Especially against a person who is so adamantly dedicated to tearing him down.

He briefly thinks of everyone important to him, remembering their smiling faces.

Including Sawamura.  

Punches come at him left and right. He doesn’t have the strength to shield himself with his arms, so he decides to lay there, bracing himself in case he comes out of this alive.

After five or six of them, his eyes swell almost shut, blood reaching his mouth. Probably from his nose, he supposes. Oikawa’s pants are the only thing he can hear, his fists never loosening even for a moment.

Sawamura must have yelled something along the lines of “stop” or “you’re gonna kill him”, Koushi isn’t sure. The blows keep coming.

Koushi pictures Oikawa’s heaving chest. His clenching jaw.

Humans can do anything when fuelled by anger and desperation.

After a few seconds, it stops. His chest is crushed by the weight of the other boy, resting on him, in a hopeless attempt to catch his breath.

“Yield”, the faintest of whispers barely hangs in the air.

Koushi seriously contemplates it. He doesn’t want to let Oikawa kick him to the ground just like that. He doesn’t want to be a symbol of what powerful Districts, such as the one this sick person comes from, do to Eleven. How his people are literally starving, while most of Panem is drinking their coke and eating the crops that dirt-poor people harvest every year.

However, he doesn’t want to get beaten to death, he doesn’t want to leave his family to deal with another loss, he doesn’t want to be the tribute who died before he got to be in the Games.

He doesn’t want to leave things with Sawamura like this.

Oikawa grabs at the collar of his shirt, bringing them eye to eye.

“Yield!”

It didn’t sound like a word, more like a roar, his voice breaking.

“I yield”, Koushi breathes and, as soon as the words fall from his lips, Oikawa’s eyes find their usual smoothness, the boy switching from enraged to the exact thing Koushi didn’t want to face.

Arrogant. Dominant. Satisfied with the answer he received.

Just like that, Oikawa releases Koushi from his grip, graciously standing up.

Then everything goes dark.

God help me.

Koushi opens his eyes as much as he can, but no matter his attempts, the swell not only remained, but he has reached the point of almost blindness. The rest of his senses, the rhythmic beat of a heart monitor, the faint but very much present smell of alcohol saturation, the dryness of his mouth, the light hospital gown over him bring him to the conclusion that he survived the fight with Oikawa and is being treated.

A wave of relief washes over him and he sighs, when a stabbing pain in his side reminds him that he was still very much beaten to a very dangerous degree. He grunts and tries to readjust in the bed he’s probably been sleeping in for however long he was knocked out. Literally.

A callused hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump in surprise.

“Try to stay still as much as you can”, the now well-known voice of his teammate, laced with agony, hangs in the air.

“Sawamura…”

“What the fuck were you thinking?”, he is cut off.

“Why didn’t you yield sooner? You knew that you didn’t stand a chance, why give that shitbag more power and let him beat you so much that you broke two ribs can’t see from either eye?”

Well that hurt.

“Smooth”, Koushi deadpans. If he weren’t in this grave situation, he definitely would have given the boy a piece of his mind. Way to cheer up someone who has just been pulverised by the guy who will probably kill him when given the chance.

Sawamura doesn’t seem phased.

“Yeah, not exactly going for smooth. I’m going for you almost got killed and let someone destroy you over what? Your pride? What happened to sticking together and staying strong for the Games? Sugawara you can’t walk or see, how the fuck are we supposed to do this now?”, his voice is trembling with anger. Probably worry for Koushi too, but the silver haired boy can’t distinguish anything right now other than his own rage.

“Oh so that’s why you’re worried. You don’t have a good chance of winning now.”

The bitterness is oozing out of him.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t really been the brawn of the team, neither now nor before this shitshow. But if you want, next time Oikawa says something to you about your home, your family and your people, insulting the fuck out of you, go organise a debate to see who has stronger points.”

“I think you know that this goes well beyond our strength as a team.”

Koushi’s heart stops.  

“Sugawara-kun!”, Takeda barges into the room, pacing -almost jogging- back and forth.

“I heard what happened. Why didn’t you yield? How could that despicable boy ruin you like that?!”, he borderline squeals, which Koushi imagines is his version of anger.

“This will not be left like this, I assure you”, the escort turns to the ashen-haired boy. “There will be severe consequences!”

How Takeda, the escort of the District that is most looked down upon, will ever convince any of the organisers of the Games to discipline a tribute of the most powerful District besides One is beyond Koushi. To top it all off, the person who would be punished is clinically insane and known for his violent tendencies across Panem. That is why he is so widely loved and respected.

The boy who will get revenge for the death of his beloved sister.

Doesn’t really matter if he steps on a few toes to achieve his dreams and aspirations. Not to the majority of the viewers at least.

“What did the nurse tell you?”

Koushi isn’t sure to whom the question is directed, but he has but a vague idea of what is wrong with him so he lets Sawamura deal with this one.

“He has two broken ribs, a concussion and his face is pretty much broken. His nose was just a little bloody but his eyes are expected to heal in three weeks. It usually takes two, but given the severity of it…”, his voice fades.

All of the fire from just seconds ago is lost and Sawamura sounds defeated.

“The broken ribs will heal in about six weeks”

Takeda gasps at that.

“Six w- Six?! Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I am going down to the lobby to request for District Two’s escort right now. We are going to have a very serious talk about this.”

Sawamura’s words make Koushi’s heart climb to his throat.

The Games are in less than three weeks.

“Thank you, Sawamura-kun for the briefing. Now, I have some work to do. Sugawara-kun, please rest and try to get your mind off of this”, the Escort says wearily, walking hurriedly towards the lobby, Koushi assumes.

Everything fades away, leaving room for fear to paralyze him.

Any chance of surviving the Games is destroyed. He might as well get shot in the head and have Sawamura compete alone. All along he has recognised his own incompetence when it comes to fighting, but this just confirms that he would have been deadweight to his teammate. Maybe this is for the best-

“Snap out of it”, his voice makes him jump, sending a shock of pain through his body.

He isn’t looking at Koushi, gazing directly ahead, seemingly staring at nothing, but the fire in his eyes is quite evident.

“You’ll be alright. The doctors will help you and I’ll help you and you’ll be fine in no time.”

“Sawamura…”

“I’m not giving up on you”, he turns to face him with a sombre look and fierce orbs, almost putting Koushi in a spell.

Instead of trying to convince him that anything they attempt will eventually turn out to be futile, he pretends for a moment that Sawamura’s plan is solid.

“Thank you”, Koushi whispers.

“Don’t thank me. Promise me you won’t give up”

That voice. So sure, so confident. Koushi isn’t quite sure how this boy does it. Dealing with him, facing his own demons and from now on carrying the weight of having to protect him.

He remembers his promise to his mother to come home and it dawns on him that he has so many strong people around him. Dependable, caring.

It’s his turn to be strong, not so much for himself but for them.

“I promise.”

The butterflies in his stomach are becoming harder and harder to ignore

Chapter Text

Takeda has been gone for a few hours, during which Koushi couldn’t help but fall in and out of sleep several times, still worn out from today’s ordeal. Pangs of rage and shame fill his heart and become so intermingled he can no longer distinguish which feeling is worse. He dreamt of Oikawa’s face looming over him, his expression changing from a malicious smile, then to a terrifying scowl, then to red hot anger, mouth agape and screams escaping him, then alternating from one to the other so quickly, it created contortions and shapes a human physiognomy should not be able to achieve, making him gasp for air the second he is conscious. The relief of escape that washes over him dissipates instantly when reality catches up to him.

He yielded.

He wanted to continue fighting for however long it took for him to lose consciousness, but he couldn’t. He failed once again.

Hot tears run down his cheeks, stinging his upper lip which is split.

He knows he has disappointed Sawamura and damaged him probably to the point of no return, yet the only person he thinks of is his mother, her stoic gaze falling upon him, passing judgement. He will never be able to look her in the eye again. Not that there is a chance that they will ever reunite. 

Maybe the underlying fear is the most powerful of all sensations, but he does not dare admit that to himself.

Sawamura’s words ground him. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the fight since Koushi’s promise. He simply follows the ritual of placing ice patches on both his eyes and removing them every once in a while, to avoid burning the skin. He continues ceaselessly, to the point of receiving multiple comments from the nursing staff about how he should better leave and get some rest.

But he doesn’t care. He sits on the uncomfortable chair next to Koushi, talking, holding the ice bags, catching glimpses of a Capitolean show from the television down the hall.

“You can go upstairs, you know”, Koushi would say. “They check up on me like every twenty minutes, I’ll be fine, you need to eat.”

“In a bit”, his answer came naturally after the first three times he was asked.

At this point Koushi lets himself believe that his partner’s caring gestures mean something more than just that; his warm breath falling on his face from the proximity of holding the ice packs on his eyes, his hand always placed on the edge of the hospital bed, not on top of his but never quite leaving its designated spot.

He even pretends that his hand accidentally falls on Sawamura’s while he’s asleep. The fact that he didn’t feel him pulling away gave him a slither of strength, which was followed by embarrassment falling heavy on his chest.

What the fuck am I doing?

When he supposedly wakes up from his brief slumber he apologises for his misplaced hand and Sawamura says it’s “no big deal” with a slight smile. Koushi tries to interpret the meaning behind it but eventually settles for burying his need to do so in the back of his mind.

There is no point in what he is doing. Only bad things can come from this.

Takeda eventually comes in and informs them that he met with Oikawa’s escort and they decided to take this to the Game Organisers.

Koushi doesn’t know whether this is something he should be happy about or not.

“So, what can you do about this?”

“I wish I could say that we could request the postponing of the Games due to your injury and the penalisation of Oikawa, but unfortunately we are not the type of District that can secure this treatment for its tributes. It depends on a lot of things, but I will try my best to convince them.”

“It’s alright” Koushi murmurs, lost in the corridors of his mind.

Sawamura clutches at the bed in a desperate attempt to stop his trembling.

*

The next days go by in a blur, Koushi fading in and out of consciousness, opting for sleep over looking at Sawamura through his swollen eyes and hurting every time he breathes. He is released three days after the beating, his escort having fought tooth and nail for the privilege to stay so long at the clinic. It seems that the staff there were in a rush to discharge him. “He will continue his recovery out of the clinic just fine.”, they repeatedly told Takeda with an indifferent tone. Once he is brought up to his floor and placed carefully on his bed by the nurses, he heaves a sigh. The swelling in his eyes has gone down a bit, to the point where he can open one halfway. His core hurts like hell, but he didn’t expect anything less. He never thought he would feel even slightly at ease in this apartment, but he vastly prefers this to being debilitated, Sawamura fighting sleep to keep him company and Takeda checking in on him every couple of hours, giving him void assurances that a solution will be found and everything will go as planned.

The doctor gave him breathing exercises and advised him to start taking long walks inside the apartment.

“Normally, I would recommend bedrest for a longer period of time and gradual efforts to walk given his situation, but considering the circumstances…” he trails off.

It was becoming clear that doctors were simply preparing him to get up on his feet as soon as possible, since he will have very limited time to recover, before he has to run for his life.

Koushi was strongly advised to walk multiple times before he was sent to his apartment, only to blackout after three steps on each attempt, Sawamura and the nurses hauling him back onto the bed.

“What is he to do, doctor?” Takeda asks worriedly, his voice so desperate he almost convinces Koushi that he genuinely cares about him.

“He will start the exercises and will be medicated to alleviate the pain. With the available healing time there’s not much else I can do. He must deal.”

This conversation took place numerous times outside Koushi’s room, when his escort was convinced he was sound asleep, maintaining the belief that it was a matter of asking the physicians enough times so that they would change their mind and hospitalise him for a longer period of time and offer him stronger drugs. He never told him what was to come in his rehabilitation, but there was no need. Koushi isn’t so delusional as to think that anyone in the Games would take mercy on him. He is prepared to go through the whole ordeal carrying the anguish of unhealed wounds. This isn’t the first time it is expected of him to pull through while his body is collapsing. Back at home he would spend days working on an empty stomach, many a times blacking out due to exhaustion. Him being in his best shape would not make much of a difference in his eyes anyway. He just hopes he is drugged enough to not remember anything of the following weeks.

The person who cannot accept this arrangement is Sawamura.

He is eventually told by both of their mentors that it would be best if he continued training in order to remind everyone that the member of the team who is responsible for brute strength is still at the top of his game. Each time before he goes to morning training and during his breaks he continues to monitor Koushi, talking to him about what they learn in combat, avoiding any mention of Oikawa.

“He must be elated.”

It escapes Koushi on the second morning of recovery in the apartment as he finds that he can no longer keep his bitterness to himself. “I can picture him practically jumping with joy.”

They are sitting at the dining table, an array of fruits, bread and jam, along with different kinds of pastries in front of them.

“He’s his usual annoying self.”

“Have you talked?”

“Not really. He just waves at me whenever he sees me. He must have gotten a warning from his team to back off.”

Koushi scoffs, immediately regretting it when he feels the throbbing in his ribs.

“Thank God for that amazing intervention. Very effective.”

His tone is resentful, but he is happy to hear a small huff of amusement from his teammate.

“I know, right? Justice is served.”

They continue eating, that is Sawamura eating and Koushi pushing around his food, barely able to stand breathing let alone stomaching breakfast.

“Is the pain that bad?” Sawamura nods toward the untouched food.

“It’s not unbearable.” Only when I’m not drugged. “I just don’t have an appetite.”

“You should eat something…”

“I’ll eat later” Koushi lies.

Five days ago he would have been furious at him for this comment, but instead he finds his need to look after him endearing and surprisingly genuine. These gestures also don’t help with the feelings stirring in his stomach.

Why is he warming to this clumsy, too-nice-for-his-own-good boy from District One?

The reason is lost on him.

What is terribly evident to him is the shame that swallows him whole the few times he has dared to picture Daichi’s lips on his, his arms around his frail body, his head resting on his wounded chest.

Those images are guaranteed to lead him to the ever familiar feeling of self-loathing, yet he still finds himself entertaining…exactly what he isn’t sure.

Actually, he doesn’t want to find out.

*

The day goes on with Koushi dragging his feet around the apartment, desperately trying to complete the steps assigned by the doctors while hanging on to Yamaguchi, who has taken it upon him to help.

The pain is crushing, each step making him feel as if his chest is constricting his lungs more and more, leaving him breathless.

“Sugawara, you should take a break…”, Yamaguchi says after hearing his soft sniffles.

He is so lost in his concentration that he didn’t even notice he is crying.

“We still have about five more minutes. I got it.”

Yesterday, he successfully tried to walk without passing out right away. He insisted to Sawamura that he didn’t have the strength to get up, simply not bearing the idea of him being his literal crutch. They will have plenty of time for that at the Games. So he waited for him to leave for training and enlisted a worrisome Yamaguchi in order to do a few laps around the living room.  At first he screamed, holding onto the boy so tight he left marks on his arm. Then, he sobbed, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to lie back down after five minutes.

Today, he made it a goal to walk for ten. He grunts and tries to suffer as quietly as possible, in order to not alarm Yamaguchi. He couldn’t stand facing the servant’s look of pity.

*

By the fifth day out of the clinic, he is walking without any help. He leans on any available surface and forces this torture onto himself for an hour.

This is what you get, is the only thing he mentally repeats to himself, like a prayer.

This is what you get for speaking up.

This is what you get for being weak.

This is what you get for being a sinner.

He makes so many rounds that by the time he throws his body on the couch everything is spinning.

“You are overexerting yourself”, Yamaguchi calls from the kitchen with a pleading voice. He is preparing lunch while keeping an eye on  Koushi.

“It’s either this…or…I die”, Koushi retorts between pants.

The drugs he is instructed to take make his pain bearable for a few hours, before their effect fades and he is almost immobilised by his aching ribs. He can only take one pill every twenty four hours, the doctors warning him of an overdose, so he saves his one tablet for the night, in order to be able to fall asleep. His eyes have improved considerably, thanks to the creams he has been given.

Koushi is simultaneously impressed and irked by the fact that Capitolean medicine seems to have a much more immediate result in pain reduction in comparison to the medicine they are given back home, which almost always bears a sticker with a false expiration date, hiding the actual one. He vividly remembers his sister’s horrid ear infection which lasted a year before their father could get his hands on some effective drops from the black market.

The pain is so all-consuming, he can’t even pray. The only thing he hopes to God for is to make it stop, although he is convinced that God can’t hear him. Did he ever hear him?

He didn’t when he prayed all through the night for his father to survive, nor when he begged him to make him like girls.

He still foolishly tries to reach out.

He is about to summon the strength to stand and go to his room, when the doorbell rings, making him jump.