Chapter Text
As far as Shōyō could tell, the rain clouds would last for the remainder of the week, as if the weather knows about the upcoming reaping and has decided to set the mood. He sits atop the roof of his family's house, gazing down at district twelve, which looks oddly beautiful amongst the orange hues of the sunset. Shōyō waves down at one of the peacekeepers he’s friendly with, who doesn’t wave back but also doesn’t tell him to climb down. Unlike the other peacekeepers, he lets Shōyō be.
The announcement for this year’s games is in 15 minutes but Shōyō wishes he could skip it; not because he's scared of being reaped but because he's happy with his life. Well… maybe not happy, but content, and the games just remind him that he can't keep thinking that everything is fine. He's been lucky so far, that neither he nor his few friends, Izumi and Kōji, have been reaped; but the fear still resides. That one day he'll be brought back down to reality, that he’ll have to realise the cruelty of the Capitol.
A shrill shout pulls him from his thoughts, “Shō-chan!! Okaa-san wants you inside!!”
Shōyō looks down the side of the roof, where his little sister, Natsu, stands, arms crossed and pouting.
“I’ll be down in a minute, Natsu.” He replies
Natsu huffs and stalks back inside, loudly shutting the door and a shout from their mother follows. Shōyō rolls his eyes and feels himself smile.
He sits for a few minutes longer before deciding to climb down. As he descends, he spots his father making his way to the house, covered in dirt and soot. Shōyō waves at him and carefully climbs down, enveloping his father into a hug and the two walk inside. A comfortable silence now tense as the atmosphere changes as they make their way through the house. They make their way to where Natsu and his mother sit huddled together; everyone’s posture is stiff and his parents soulessly greet each other.
Within a few minutes, the screen changes to show the president upon a pedestal, the screams and cheers of the Capitol are the only sounds to be heard. Inwardly, Shōyō feels disgusted, how could they cheer for such cruelty?
“Ladies and Gentlemen” The president begins, “This year marks the 100th year of the Hunger Games.”
More Cheers sound through the screen.
“It was written in the charter of the games, that every 25 years, there would be a quarter quell, to keep fresh in the new generation the memories of those that died, in the uprising against the Capitol.”
The excitement of the Capitol is deafening in contrast to the silence of the house.
“Each quarter quell is distinguished by games with significance and now on this day, the anniversary of the 100th year of the defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the fourth quarter quell, as a reminder that even the strongest amongst the districts cannot overcome the collective power of the Capitol”
Shōyō watches with bated breath, as the President holds suspense for a moment, the Capitol citizens pausing similarly.
“On this, the 4th quarter quell, the selected tributes are to be reaped only from the pool of male citizens within each district.”
The rest of the President’s words fade into the background as Shōyō processes the words. All men? Does that mean I’m more likely to be reaped? He can vaguely hear his parents calling out to him and hazily registers that he has stood up. He ignores them however, making his way outside and onto the roof, away from the gazes of pity he knows he will get. Shōyō notices his vision tunnelling, the only clarity he sees is the roof. His safe space, which now doesn’t feel so safe. The air is stale and warm, despite the chill of rain; it burns his lungs, his breath coming in short and stilted. It feels as if there are walls surrounding him, closing him in, trapping him with his thoughts.
“..from the pool of male citizens within each district.” The words echo in his head.
My name is going in 25 times this year.
That’s not a lot.
I’m not going to die.
I’ll be fine
I’m not going to die.
“sh...o?”
Shōyō grips his arms, digging his fingers in tightly
I’m not going to die.
I’m not going to die.
“Shōyō!”
I’m not going to die.
“SHŌYŌ!!”
Shōyō jumps, nearly tumbling off the roof; he looks around, calming down and notices Natsu stumbling her way up the roof. Moving quickly, Shōyō helps her out before she does anything to hurt herself.
“Natsu! Don’t climb up here, you’ll hurt yourself” Shōyō scolds
Natsu ignores his reprimand, instead choosing to hug her brother.
“...Natsu?” He asks
Natsu doesn’t say anything, just hugs him tighter and Shōyō hugs her back, feeling a bit confused. Minutes pass with the two siblings sitting precariously on the roof, embracing each other, ignoring the sudden downpour.
Just as Shōyō opens his mouth to question Natsu, he faintly hears his mother’s voice from inside.
“Sometimes… it feels like maybe we shouldn’t have had Shōyō and Natsu”
“...Hana…” Comes his Father’s reply
Shōyō looks down at his sister, who seems unaware of the conversation happening in the house. Good.
A sob, “I love them, I love them so much but I-I can’t stand the thought that I could lose either of them. And… and this year with the quarter quell… bringing them into this world seems to have been the cruellest thing we could’ve done to our kids, Akira.”
Shōyō stops listening, instead squeezing Natsu tighter.
They sit in silence until the sun has set and the cold of the rain reaches their bones.
»»———- ———-««
No sound has been heard since the end of the announcements. Everyone sits in silence, different emotions coursing through them.
“This is fucked”
A loud slap rings throughout the house, “Yū! Watch your language, it’s unbecoming”
Yū stands up, ignoring his stinging cheek and glaring fiercely at his mother. “Unbecoming? Seriously? I’m gonna die a week from now and you’re worried about me saying fuck?”
Another slap.
Yū hears his sister asking them to stop and clam down but both mother and son ignore her.
His mother crosses her arms but the shaking in her body betrays her true emotions, “You don't know that Yū. The district has so many boys, i-it won’t be you”
Yū scoffs, balling his hands into fists and blinking away his tears of anger
“I do know though! Everyone in the district knows I have my name in the most, and now the pool has been halved. I’m gonna die next week and you’re gonna have to accept it”
Silence hangs heavy in the air and Yū shakes his head, walking away from his gaping family and leaves the house, slamming the door. On his way to his grandfather’s house, he sees people with varying emotional states. Some are joyous that their daughters have been saved, others are distraught and all look at him with pity. Everyone knows it'll be him, why can't his mother accept that?
He arrives at his grandfather's house, soaked to the bone and walks in without knocking. walking straight to the living room, his grandfather stands upon seeing him enveloping him in a hug despite the water clinging to his clothes.
“It's not guaranteed, Yū. You'll be fine, it'll be fine.” His grandfather says, attempting to comfort him, but they both know it won't be fine.
Yū doesn't say anything, instead choosing to remain within the comfort of his grandfather's arms.
It's been a while since Yū was hugged like this, with love and warmth. Even his parents and sisters don't hug him as much. He once asked one of his sisters why, but all she had said was;
“We're coping”
Yū hadn't understood at the time, but now he does. He doesn't blame them but it would be nice if he didnt constantly feel like a cursed child. To feel like he doesn't only get love from his grandfather.
They stay like that for a few minutes, Yū’s grip on his grandfather tight before his grandfather ends the embrace and leads Yū to his bedroom where he sits him down on the bed before leaving to rummage through some belongings.
Two minutes pass and Yū’s grandfather returns, a small box in hand. Yū looks at him in confusion, not knowing where this conversation will lead. The bed dips beside him where his grandfather sits down and the box is passed to him. He hesitates before opening it, taking note of the intricate designs on the box; the abundance of animals, specifically birds, and the tiny, delicate flowers, beautifully carved into the box
Inside the box are some trinkets. He sifts through them before coming across a small brass pocket watch. The design is intricate, a bird with its wings made up of tiny gears, slotted together to complete the wings. The bird is intimidating and the gears a dark black, like that of a corvid. The bird seems to be flying through a storm, the lightning strikes being openings to see parts of the clock inside the pocket watch. It's beautiful.
“The watch was Himeko’s.”
Yū has heard of Himeko, his aunt, who was reaped when she was 12.
“They allowed her to carry the watch with her and retrieved it from her body for us. She made it”
Yū’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “She must have been talented, to make this when she was so young”
His grandfather sighs, “She was. We kept saying she would be a master watchmaker one day...”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence, Yū understands.
“Take it. No matter what happens, know that I'm with you, and that Himeko is with you.”
Yū nods, hugging his grandfather who immediately hugs him back.
He sticks around for a while longer, conversing with his grandfather and sharing the few happy memories has. They both know that at the same time tomorrow, Yū won't be there.
The walk home is quiet, people have gone inside but the rain continues to fall. He briefly notices some figures sitting on a roof but ignores them in favour of walking home, possibly for the last time.
That sounds dramatic. Yū thinks, But is it?
He knows it, his sisters and father know it. People he has never spoken to know it.
When Yū arrives back home, his mother is waiting for him the moment he walks in through the door but falters when she notices the watch in his hand.
“How is your grandfather?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly
“Good”
He makes a move to shove past her and head to his room but she places a hand on his upper arm, stopping him from continuing on.
“I'm sorry Yū”
She doesn't say anything else, pulling him into a hug before he can protest. She's sobbing loudly, her hands slipping off his damp clothes and her own tears leaving their mark on his clothes, mixing in with the rainwater.
Yū tentatively hugs her back, lightly rubbing her back and urging her to calm down. They say nothing but that's fine with Yū, he wouldn't know what to say seeing as this is the most comfort his mother has shown him in years. Yū can understand her grief, her unwillingness to believe what everyone knows is the truth, but sometimes… he wishes she would always act as she is now, as a mother.
Even if I get reaped. I won't die. I can't die.