Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For once, Soobin was glad to be awoken early. The disturbance had ripped him from the clutches of a nightmare. In the dream, he was standing alone in the district square, staring up at the stage as the Reaping was about to begin. There was a sea of girls next to him, but he was the only boy. Which meant that single scrap of paper in the bowl directly across from him had his name on it. He was going to be in the Hunger Games. He was going to die. He started shaking violently, and his legs collapsed underneath him. The Peacekeepers were grabbing him and their grip hurt and they were dragging him, taking him away from everything he had ever known-

And then suddenly, he heard a loud rustling from across the room, piercing through the nightmare. For a moment, he couldn’t open his eyes. He was paralyzed by the thought that if he opened his eyes, he’d be back in that square, alone and vulnerable. But then he heard Beomgyu’s loud laugh and knew he was safe. He opened his eyes and looked around his room. He was home, the Reaping hadn’t happened yet, and he wasn’t going to be in the Hunger Games. Everything was going to be okay.

Except for Beomgyu, who he was about to murder for invading his room at this hour.

“Get out,” Soobin whined before flopping back onto his pillow.

“Mom said to wake you up. So, wake up!” Beomgyu pulled the pillow out from under Soobin’s head and whacked him with it. “Besides, dear brother of mine,” he batted his eyes in an expression of fake innocence, “I’m here to borrow one of your shirts for today.”

“Why?” Soobin asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Well, I was going to wear one of my shirts, but Mom said they were too wrinkly to wear to the Reaping, and you iron all of your shirts, so I am stealing one.”

It was too early to argue with his brother about this. Besides, what was one less white button-down among what seemed to be hundreds? “Fine, but if you stain it, don’t bother giving it back to me. And it’s gonna be a little big on you, so don’t forget to tuck it in.”

Beomgyu grabbed a shirt and left the room. Soobin was about to go back to sleep, but remembered his dream and decided against it. He didn’t want to fall back into that place. So, he climbed out of bed, hit the bathroom, and brushed his teeth before heading to the kitchen. His dad was already making eggs while his mom was getting ready. Normally they would already be off to work by now, but since today was “special,” everyone got the day off.

As he sat down, his father set a plate in front of him. Soobin, of course, had no appetite but forced himself through the motions anyway.

Beomgyu slid into the seat next to him, his own plate of eggs in hand.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Soobin asked. It was unlike Beomgyu to do anything but run straight for the kitchen after he woke up.

“I was too nervous to eat earlier, but now I’m too hungry to care.”

Their dad left the kitchen to give the two boys their privacy.

“How are you feeling? Really?”

Soobin sighed, a hollow, apathetic action. “I’m scared. If it was ever gonna be me, this would be the year. And I’m not- I wouldn’t make it.”

“Come on! Don’t say that! You can swing an ax better than anyone I’ve ever seen! Show them what District 7 is made of!” Beomgyu gave him a soft punch on the arm.

Soobin was always thankful for Beomgyu, but never more so than in this moment. Though they were a year apart, he had always felt that they were more like twins. They were always in the same year in school because their parents held Soobin back a year to be with Beomgyu. He had been a shy kid, and they worried about him making friends. Eventually, he grew out of his shyness, but by then it was too late to move Soobin up a year. Beomgyu was like Soobin’s own personal cheerleader. Soobin didn’t even mind that Beomgyu’s words weren’t true, he was just happy to hear some sort of assurance.

They both knew Soobin was of the clumsiest workers in the district, never having improved his skill since he first started learning it when he was 10. Even with the best ax in all of Panem, he still wouldn’t stand a chance in the Hunger Games.

“What about you? How do you feel?” Soobin genuinely wanted to know but also wanted to divert the attention off of himself.

“I mean, obviously, I’m nervous. I’d be stupid not to be. It could be any of us, but that doesn’t mean that it will be, you know? And the way I see it, in a year and a day, I’ll be done with this forever. You know, I thought you’d be more excited.”

“Why would I be excited?”

“It’s your last Reaping. After today you never have to go through this again.” Both of them ignored the words he didn’t say.

But Soobin had never thought of it that way before. If he could make it through this one last Reaping, he would never have to suffer through this again. He would be safe. He would be free.

Soobin started thinking it over. He never liked math, but once he started running the numbers in his head, he felt better. His name was only in there a few times. His family wasn’t well off by any means, but they had enough that they didn’t need to put his name in extra times for more rations. And there were hundreds of other boys in his district and plenty of them in need of more food. The odds just might be in his favor.

Soobin looked down, pondering his response, and his eyes caught on a small image on the table. Beomgyu followed gaze and ran his hand over the small engraving.

“I remember when we carved this,” Beomgyu said.

The carving was of a small tree, etched permanently into the table, which, like most of the rest of the house, was wooden. Perks of living in the lumber district. But it wasn’t just any tree. If you looked close enough at the branches, you would see that they formed an ‘S’ and a ‘B.’ They had carved it on the day of Soobin’s very first Reaping. The tree to remind him where he came from, and the letters so he knew what he was fighting for. Just in case.

“I think it’s our good luck charm.”

Soobin mulled that idea over. It had kept not just him, but both of them safe over the years. He supposed it was possible it still had a bit more luck left for them.

That thought, that spark of hope, carried through him through the menial tasks of the morning. Every tedious part of his morning routine felt even more so today. He either wanted time to move forward faster, taking him to the end of the day when this whole ordeal was over, or move backward, taking him far away from the Reaping. The last thing he wanted was for time to stand still, leaving him in this pocket of anticipation and dread.

He rushed as he got ready, hoping that would propel time forward. He decided against his usual white button-down, if only because Beomgyu was already borrowing one and he didn’t want them to match. He reached for a more casual long-sleeved shirt just as his mom walked into his room.

She made a face at the shirt. “Really? For Reaping Day?”

Soobin sighed and grabbed a dark blue sweater. It always irritated him how his parents acted every year on this day. They were young enough to still remember their own Reapings but old enough to think that being chosen for the games was “an honor.” Soobin wasn’t sure he’d ever be old enough to think that.

He and Beomgyu emerged from their rooms at the same time, Beomgyu looking surprisingly good in Soobin’s shirt. It didn’t look big on him at all. If Soobin didn’t know any better, he might’ve assumed it was Beomgyu’s shirt.

They stood side by side in front of the mirror, making last amendments to themselves. Soobin noticed a patch of hair sticking up on the back of Beomgyu’s head and smoothed it out for him. Beomgyu gave him a grateful nod and searched Soobin’s head for any stray hairs as well.

Their mother came over to inspect them. “My handsome boys!” She licked her thumb and used it to wipe away some stray egg off Soobin’s top lip. “There you go. Okay! Picture time!” They gathered in front of the fireplace like they did every year and plastered on painfully fake smiles. Soobin always thought this tradition was morbid but went along with it to keep their mother sane.

Before they left, Soobin watched Beomgyu pause and hover over the kitchen table. He ran his finger across their carving, for good luck. Once he left, Soobin copied his action, memorizing the grooves until he could feel the branches’ smooth finish without even touching the table. He committed his whole home to memory and didn’t want to miss a single detail, not even this small little emblem. Just in case.

They arrived at the district square where the Reaping was held about 45 minutes later. District 7 was one of the bigger districts in Panem since they needed lots of land to grow trees to sustain the country’s lumber industry. This left the district fairly spread out, making transportation both a pain and a luxury, if you could afford it. But today, everyone could afford it. The Capitol was not about to let anyone miss the Reapings. It occurred to Soobin that if they had the resources to transport everyone on Reaping Day, they must have the resources to do so on any other day.

The square was already teeming with people once they arrived, girls and boys dressed in their nicest clothes, all with various degrees of dread and excitement on their faces. Soobin and Beomgyu bid their parents goodbye and went to sign in. The Peacekeepers asked them a series of questions and then pricked their finger to get a sample of their blood. Soobin stuck his finger in his mouth to stop the bleeding, grimacing at the hot, tangy taste of his own blood.

Beomgyu grabbed him for a quick hug before they were split up into their respective age groups. Soobin, being among the oldest boys in the Reaping, was shuffled to the very back. Beomgyu was in the next age group, and Soobin could see him standing just a few rows in front of him.

Once everyone was in place, Jaxon Bauble, the representative from the Capitol that was assigned to their district, stepped out. He looked ridiculous, with a cloud of orange hair on the top of his head, and an outfit full of bright colors that stood out from everyone else in attendance. But it made people straighten up and fix their stares on him the second he came into view. The crowd’s energy was a palpable thing in the air as the ceremony officially started.

From that moment, Soobin could tell this Reaping was different from any of the ones he’d experienced previously. Everyone was antsier, happier in a way. The boy next to him could barely stand still as the big screen played the same video they watched every year about the Games serving as a reminder of the rebellion. Soobin had a feeling that no one was paying attention. They were all talking, whispering to each other in a way that sounded like buzzing in Soobin’s ears. Even Jaxon seemed to notice the fervor and knew precisely what the people wanted.

“Should I bring him out?” Jaxon asked. The crowd cheered like that was what they came here for.

“Okay, everyone. You watched him compete last year, you cheered for him, you cried with him, and together as a district, you rejoiced when he won. Here he is again, the victor of the 66th Annual Hunger Games, Choi Yeonjun!”

And there he was. The reason why the crowd was brimming with misguided hope. Everyone thought they could be like him. Everyone wanted to be like him. They thought, “Well, if he can win, surely I can too!” For the first time in Soobin’s lifetime, District 7 had a victor, and now people were lining up to be the next one.

The crowd erupted when Yeonjun stepped out. He looked different than he did last year. Despite himself, despite everything, Soobin still tuned in to the Hunger Games every year like everyone else. He’d watched almost every moment of Yeonjun’s winning game. The whole district came to a standstill when it seemed they might actually have a winner. Once Yeonjun reached the top 6, schools started closing, and workers were sent home early just so everyone had the chance to witness his triumph.

But since his win, since the celebrations in the street, his riotous homecoming, and the victory tour, the people of District 7 had seen very little of Choi Yeonjun. He seemed to have become more private after winning, rather than the other way around, like most victors.

Since the last time Soobin had seen Yeonjun, he looked healthier. He seemed to have put on the weight he lost in the games. And now his hair was blue. Hair dye was a luxury in the districts, one that he could afford now with his earnings. There was also something else different about him. It wasn’t a change in his appearance, but some almost imperceptible difference in the way he carried himself. It disappeared so quickly Soobin was sure he imagined it.

Choi Yeonjun approached the microphone to say a few words.

“Just a year ago, I was standing exactly where you are right now. Now, I’m up here, and my life has been changed,” he breathed a deep sigh, “for the better. The Games will be the hardest thing you ever do, but also the most rewarding. It really helped me figure out who I am, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

Soobin didn’t need to kill 23 people to figure out who he was, thank you very much.

“To whoever is chosen today,” Yeonjun continued, “I look forward to meeting and mentoring you, and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

Jaxon replaced Yeonjun at the mic, “I don’t think I could’ve said it any better myself! With that, let’s begin! As always, ladies first!”

Jaxon walked over to the first bowl and plucked a name. Soobin wasn’t listening. All he could hear was a loud roaring in his ears. He watched as a girl was ushered to the stage, a mix of shock and confusion on her face. It seemed that Choi Yeonjun’s words were not enough to quell her fear.

Once she was on stage, Jaxon approached the second bowl and pulled out the scrap of paper that could ruin his life.

“Choi Beomgyu.”

The first emotion Soobin felt was relief.

But then he processed the name. Realized who it was.

He watched as Beomgyu’s head bounced in front of him, moving out of his row and towards the front. His brother turned around to look at him, and Soobin broke.

He had to do something. He was the big brother, he was supposed to protect him. His mouth formed the words, and he could’ve sworn he said, “I volunteer!” but no sound came out. It was like his throat was stuffed with cotton, and his feet were nailed to the ground. His self-preservation instinct had kicked in, locking him in place, even when he desperately wanted to give himself up for his brother.

And now it was too late. Beomgyu was already on stage, faking a smile for the audience. Soobin could see past that smile, even though he wished he couldn’t.

Soobin realized far too late that this was worse than any nightmare he could’ve dreamed up. Because even in the darkest stretches of his imagination, Beomgyu was safe. He was supposed to always be safe.

Chapter Text

In the whirl of chaos he was thrown into, it just now occurred to Beomgyu that he was still wearing Soobin’s shirt. 

He sat on the train, watching his district, his home, become a blur in the window. That’s when his shirt came untucked, and he noticed how big it was. And then he remembered.

The moment his name was called, the world around Beomgyu shattered. He had to wade through the broken shards of the life he’d known to make it to the stage. As soon as the ceremony ended, he was ushered into the nearest building to wait for his family. To say goodbye.

It had been hard to talk to his parents, their words almost incomprehensible due to the emotion in their voices and the tears in their eyes. But it had been even worse to talk to Soobin. Soobin wasn’t even crying, and that made it worse. Soobin had never been afraid to cry, never afraid of what people would think of him for expressing his emotions. So Beomgyu knew Soobin wasn’t crying now to try and make him feel better, to know that things at home would be okay without him. Even if it wasn’t true.

“You have to win, you have to come back,” Those were the words that broke Beomgyu. The desperation in Soobin’s voice that he tried to hide. The thought that, if Beomgyu lost the Games, he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. But Soobin would have to live the rest of his life without his brother, without his best friend.

Beomgyu promised his family he would win and squeezed them tight one last time before boarding the train. They’d be in the Capitol by the morning. 

Beomgyu was sitting alone in a room on the train, trying to gather his thoughts when Choi Yeonjun came in. Trailing behind him was Ryujin, this year’s female tribute. 

“I thought it was best if you two got acquainted. I’ll be back in a bit to talk to you about some other things, but right now I’ll give you some time to get to know each other.” Yeonjun said before backing out of the room.

Beomgyu thought it was stupid to try to “get acquainted.” It wasn’t like they could both make it out alive anyway. Also, he already knew Ryujin. She was in his year at school, and they practically grew up together. When he thought of Ryujin, he always remembered the time he asked her to draw a fairy on a valentine he gave to his crush. He had tried to draw it so many times, but somehow it always looked evil or like it was suffering from constipation. He’d seen her doodle on her tests a few times and knew she was a good artist. Sure enough, her rendering of the fairy was cute and perfect. She told him that he owed her after that, but had never come to collect her favor. Would she remember that now? They must have been around ten years old at the time, but he didn’t strike her as the kind of person to so easily forget when someone owed her something.

“How are you feeling?” Beomgyu asked, an echo of the question that he had asked to Soobin in their kitchen just this morning. Had it really been that morning? In only a few hours Beomgyu’s whole world had tilted off its axis, and he was still reeling.

Ryujin rolled her eyes but still met Beomgyu’s gaze. “How do you think?” Before Beomgyu could respond, she continued. “I’m okay, I think. As okay as I can be. I mean, I was absolutely terrified when they called my name, and I still am, but I think I’ve come to terms with it.” She played with her black hair as she spoke, and Beomgyu wondered if it was a nervous habit he had never paid enough attention to notice. 

“What about you? Are you scared?”

“No,” Beomgyu said. And it was true. So many thoughts raced through his head, but not a single one of them was fearful. “I’m more sad than anything else. No matter what happens, my life will never be the same as it was before.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s like, everything happened with no warning. They give us a few minutes to talk to our families, but that isn’t enough. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my girlfriend. I wish they’d give us a day to just, I don’t know, mourn our lives.” The first sign of genuine sorrow flashed across her face. 

Beomgyu cleared his throat, eager to change the subject. “Do you think you could do it? Win?”

Ryujin laughed, but it was hollow and humorless. “No. Not a chance. I’ll make it past the first few days because I can run and hide, but I don’t think I could kill anyone when it comes down to it.”

Beomgyu mulled this over. He was strong, fast, and had basic survival skills. And more than anything, he  wanted  to win. He  had  to. If not for his sake, for his family’s. For Soobin’s.

And somehow, he found that if he had to kill to do that, to get home, he would. Did that make him a bad person? Or was it better to be like Ryujin and die before losing your humanity?  

“I don’t want to, but I think I could. I mean, if I had to.”

Ryujin nodded along. “Well, if it’s not me, I want it to be you. I don’t know what kind of people we’ll be up against, but I do know you deserve to make it out. I just hope that when I go, it doesn’t hurt.”

Beomgyu’s heart cracked at the resignation in her voice. The Games hadn’t even started yet, and she had already given up. They had never been close, but he had always respected her. She was kind to everyone, even boys who couldn’t draw fairies, and she was always unafraid to be herself in a place that did everything it could to discourage that. The fact that that flame could be stifled so easily, so quickly, made Beomgyu fear for the sake of his own self, his own conscience.

“Do you want to work together?” The question surprised both Beomgyu and Ryujin. She didn’t respond, but the upturned corners of her lips and the mischievous glint in her eyes gave him his answer.

When Yeonjun returned to the room, Beomgyu felt satisfied with how his conversation with Ryujin had gone. Now he had an ally, and maybe that would make all the difference. 

Yeonjun plopped down into a couch across from the pair, releasing a heavy sigh as he did so. Despite only being a couple years older than Beomgyu, Yeonjun seemed to have aged decades in the time since his Games. He looked healthier, yes, but his face had hardened in ways Beomgyu had only seen in men his father’s age. His electric blue hair stuck out at all sorts of odd angles like he couldn’t be bothered to style it. Or like he’d been running his hands through it. Beomgyu could see some bald spots but wasn’t sure if that was from the hair dye or months of pulling his hair out. But his eyes. Beomgyu’s mother always told him that eyes never lied. And that was the case with Yeonjun. His eyes told the truth— that he was haunted. Likely by the very same experience Beomgyu was about to dive headfirst into.

Yeonjun took a deep breath before he started to speak. “I’m going to be honest with you. I have no idea how to do this mentoring thing. Sometimes I feel like my win was just a fluke. There are days when I can’t even remember how I did it. But that is not going to stop me from doing everything I can to make sure one of you wins. 

“The most important thing for you to do in the next few days is to make sure everyone likes you. Yes, you’re going to need to learn how to survive, but you need sponsors. Even if you’re absolute shit with a sword, gifts from sponsors can keep you alive long enough to outlive everyone else. If you play your cards right, you only have to kill one person to win.”

Beomgyu leaned forward, hanging on his every word. “How do we make people like us?”

Yeonjun smirked. “I don’t think either of you will have much problem with that. But you’ll have lots of opportunities to show off for the sponsors. There’s the Tribute Parade tomorrow, which will give them their first impression of you. You can also earn sponsors once your evaluation scores come out. Most importantly is your interview. It’s the night before The Games, and it’s your first real chance to show everyone who you are. That’s when you really have to win them over. But once The Games begin, don’t worry about sponsors. That’s my job. You just need to worry about staying alive.”

A weighted silence fell over the trio. It all sounded easy in theory, but Beomgyu knew it would be anything but.

As if he could read his thoughts, Yeonjun said, “I’ll be here to help you the entire time. We’ll go over everything as things get nearer.” He flashed them a reassuring smile, and Beomgyu saw him for what he was. A boy. Over the past year, he had been painted as this mythical figure, put up on a pedestal and declared the pride of District 7. In reality, just a year ago, he had been in the exact place Beomgyu was right now. They were both just trying to figure out how to deal with the awful situation they had been thrust into. 

They spent the rest of the day going over the basics, the best way to find food and water, the importance of shelter, and what to do if you were injured. Yeonjun bid them both goodnight, urging them to rest up for their arrival in the Capitol the next morning.

Surprisingly, Beomgyu enjoyed a night of peaceful sleep. There was no need for nightmares; nothing he could dream up would be worse than his reality.

_____

Bright. That was the only word Beomgyu could think of to describe The Capitol. Both in color and in light. Every time he closed his eyes, he would still see streaks of light dance across his vision. Behind every corner was a new color he had never seen before. Fabrics in hues of pinks and reds he’d never even imagined, hair dyed shades of yellow and emerald he didn’t even know hair could be. 

Of course, he hadn’t really been able to see much of The Capitol other than a few glimpses out the train window before being ushered inside. The Tribute Parade was tonight, and the entirety of the day was to be spent preparing for it. 

He had been brought inside a dark building with cement walls. Apparently, function could outweigh luxury even in the Capitol. The lights above were still as bright as ever, the fluorescence making Beomgyu feel like he was being examined under a microscope. Which wasn’t far from the truth. A long rectangular table laid in front of him, and it took a few dirty looks from his prep team to understand that he was supposed to lay on it. Once he had been cleaned and scrubbed for so long that he felt like he had shed an entire layer of skin, he was allowed to sit up and told to wait for his stylist. 

“I have a vision for you,” a short woman with long white hair said as she approached Beomgyu. Her hands flailed about as she spoke, and Beomgyu could feel the enthusiasm radiating off of her. “I’m Bee, your stylist! I already have your outfit ready for tonight, so all that’s left to do is your hair and makeup. Oh, I can’t wait for you to see it! You’re just going to  love  it. Now about this hair…” She had started running her hands through his hair as she said this, her absurdly long nails digging into his scalp. “Have you ever thought about going blond?”

Hair dye being as expensive as it was, Beomgyu had never thought about going any color, let alone blond. He told Bee as much. 

“Oh, then you absolutely  must  go blond! Come with me, we need to get started immediately if we’re going to have you ready by tonight. You will love being blond!”

Beomgyu wasn’t sure why this woman he had just met thought she knew so much about what Beomgyu would love.

It took three rounds of processing and several hours to get Beomgyu’s jet black hair to the exact shade of light blond Bee had been envisioning. Apparently, it still needed to be toned, whatever that meant, but Beomgyu had to admit that the color suited him quite nicely. Despite the itchy sensation of his head.

For his makeup, Bee had said he didn’t need much, just enough to play up Beomgyu’s natural features. Despite where he was, and why he was there, Beomgyu felt a small swell of pride at his own handsomeness. They also dotted his face with green glitter to tie in with the tree theme of his costume.

Because of course, he was to be dressed as a tree. It was what District 7 tributes had always been dressed as for as long as he could remember, and what they would be dressed as long after Beomgyu’s turn in the outfit. Which, despite Bee’s promises, he did  not  love. The pants were brown and high waisted with some textured detail to make it look like actual tree bark, but not enough to be convincing. His top faded from brown at the bottom to green around his collarbones, and both the sleeves were green to act as the “branches” of the tree. The worst part was that there was actual moss draped all over his clothes. And it smelled. The only salvageable element was the crown of leaves that had just been placed on his head. It made him feel like a true king, even if it was only for a moment and even if he was the ruler of ugly trees.

Beomgyu was reunited with both Yeonjun and Ryujin right as it was time to board their chariots. It seemed that Ryujin had met the same mossy fate that Beomgyu had, just in dress form. And the black hair she had just this morning was now cotton candy pink. 

“So they got you too?” Ryujin asked, indicating Beomgyu’s new hair color. 

“Yeah, apparently it’s supposed to make me more relatable or something? It sounded like bullshit, and now my scalp hurts, but I do look pretty good.”

“Don’t you dare complain about your scalp to me. Half my hair came out when they brushed it. This?” She grabbed a piece of hair that was a slightly different shade of pink than the rest, “This is  horse  hair.”

“Point taken.”

Yeonjun snickered at both their exchange and their appearances.

Beomgyu whirled on him, “What are you laughing at? Aren’t you supposed to be a professional?”

Yeonjun composed himself only for giggles to spill out of him a moment later. He had to pause after each word to catch his breath. “I’m not laughing! I swear I’m not! Nothing about this is funny at all!”

“Did you have to wear moss for your parade?” Ryujin grimaced as she said the word.

“The ugly tree costumes are a District 7 rite of passage. You should feel proud to don the green and brown. But still, yours are way worse than what I had to wear.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a yell, “Tributes! Take your places!”

The playful mood was sapped from the air. It was the first time Beomgyu had been referred to as a tribute. The word snapped him back into reality. For a moment, he could have believed he was just here for some horrible fashion show, and that he’d be heading right back home in the morning.

Beomgyu climbed into the chariot, Ryujin right behind him. They stood tall and proud, chests puffed and leaf-clad heads held high. Without thinking about what he doing, Beomgyu offered his hand to Ryujin. She took it with a small smile.

The horses at the front started their trot, and soon enough, their own chariot followed suit. 

And even though they were days away from entering the arena, The Games had begun.

Chapter Text

Taehyun’s excitement threatened to boil over and spill everywhere. And he simply couldn’t have that on his first day on the job. Well, it wasn’t  technically  his first day, but it was the first day that mattered. Not that helping design the arena wasn’t exciting and fulfilling work, but it certainly wasn’t why he wanted to become a Gamemaker.

When Taehyun entered the Gamemakers’ room, he had to bite the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling. The room was circular and set up with two tables shaped like semicircles: the outer one was larger than the inner one, which surrounded the Head Gamemakers’ own workspace. Every surface in the room was white, making Taehyun think of this whole space as his own blank canvas. Except for the tables, of course, which were actually screens, and could even project holograms if one needed to see their ideas on a bigger scale. 

Taehyun took his spot on the outer circle, the circle for newer Gamemakers. And new he was. At sixteen-almost-seventeen years old, Taehyun was the youngest Gamemaker in the history of Panem. By a longshot. 

It had happened in a sort of roundabout way. Taehyun had always had an affinity for technology and all the things he could create with it. His father had walked in on him taking the TV apart and putting it together again on more than one occasion. However, living in the districts, it had been hard for Taehyun to get his hands on anything higher-tech than a projector. But, when Taehyun was eleven years old, his family moved from their district to The Capitol. Such a move was not common in Panem, and the whole thing was shrouded in secrets. His father told him it was because he had been offered a job in The Capitol, but that Taehyun wasn’t old enough to know what that job was. Almost 6 years later, it seemed Taehyun was still not old enough to know. 

Being completely uprooted had been one of the hardest times in Taehyun’s life. Not only was he taken away from his home and friends, but he was thrown into a world he was entirely unfamiliar with. The Capitol operated on a different set of rules than the districts. Or rather, the rules did not apply here. People in the Capitol could essentially do whatever they pleased with little to no consequences. The Peacekeepers that prowled the districts were nowhere to be seen here. And everyone was so splendidly wealthy, never batting an eye when purchasing an item of clothing that cost more than Taehyun’s old house. And they knew Taehyun didn’t belong. He didn’t speak in the same high-pitched tone or wear the same obnoxious wigs. He was often mocked for his thin frame because, of course, everyone here always had the means to eat until they couldn’t possibly anymore. 

But things had turned around for Taehyun once he figured out how to navigate the residents of the Capitol. You see, these people were very simple, and he found what they craved above all else: attention and validation. It was the reason they wore those ridiculous outfits, embedded diamonds into their faces, and dyed their skin any number of different colors. They just wanted to stand out, to be seen. All Taehyun had to do was notice them. Once he learned the art of fake laughter and smiles, the Capitol was his to conquer.

Even though Taehyun had adjusted well enough, it was a lonely existence, engaging only in shallow conversation about appearances and wealth. Technology, which had been little more than a hobby before, now became his only solace. Whereas he was stifled in the districts, here, his relationship with technology was nurtured. He was able to work on the newest devices and learn from the very people who developed them. And his talent didn’t go unnoticed. After barely a year in the Capitol, Taehyun was admitted to The Academy for his skill with tech.

The Academy was considered elite even by the Capitol’s standards, and it was a huge honor for Taehyun to be accepted. It was there his skill blossomed even further, and there he was nudged toward Gamemaking so much that it eventually became his own dream. He quickly found that Gamemaking combined his favorite things: technology and creation. He would be able to explore the coolest technologies— ones that weren’t even available to the public— and make the things that he had imagined in his head actually come to life. 

It was also at the Academy that he met Huening Kai, the only person in this place whose presence didn’t rot his brain. Huening Kai was not just in The Academy for his incredible wealth (which certainly was a factor) but because he was absolutely brilliant. Taehyun himself was smart, of course, but the expertise he had in technology was lacking in other subjects. Not Huening Kai, though. Somehow, he managed to excel at everything. He had his choice of both careers and friends. Though he hadn’t made a decision on the former, for the latter, he had decided on Taehyun. They clicked instantly, and soon became the best of friends, almost inseparable. Their friendship made Taehyun’s short time at the Academy bearable when everyone around him was haughty and stuck up. 

After only a couple years at the school, Taehyun had caught the eyes of several Gamemakers and was taken out to be mentored by them directly. They said they had never seen talent like his before, and his creations were nothing short of magic. He hadn’t needed much hands-on training before they decided he was fit for the job, and that’s how he ended up where he was today. 

For the past week or so, Taehyun had been one of the Gamemakers selected to design the arena. This meant that he had not yet looked at this year’s crop of tributes. They wanted to avoid creating an arena that favored one tribute’s ability over the others as much as they could. Helping with the arena had been fun work, but tonight was when it all really started.

Not only was tonight the chance for the public to see the tributes, but the Tribute Parade also allowed Taehyun and his fellow Gamemakers to size them up too. See what they were working with. This was when the whole thing started to feel real. 

Once he was seated, Taehyun began to look through the lineup of tributes. There wasn’t much information about the new tributes yet, but for some, especially the Careers, their skills, and specialties were already known. It said here that Cherry from District 1 was exceptionally skilled at sword fighting, but couldn’t swim even if her life depended on it. He quickly scanned down the rest of the tributes, making some brief notes of important facts that he could use later, but mainly just skimming the page. There would be plenty of time to learn about them later, and he could afford to take it easy tonight. And then, he waited. The parade was projected on the large screen across from the tables; all Taehyun had to do tonight was watch and observe. 

The first two chariots, from Districts 1 and 2, came out in their bright colors and lavish textiles, the Career tributes waving to the crowd with the kind of ease and confidence that only comes from training your whole life for this moment. The tributes from the following districts were clearly different, and even through a screen, Taehyun could see their nerves in their stiff smiles and shaking hands. The chariots came out one by one, blurring in Taehyun’s minds with faces of tributes past. Despite all this fanfare, the sickening truth was that this time next year, he would only remember a couple of their names.

Taehyun perked up as he did every year to watch the seventh chariot roll out. If he expected the trees astride it to look as miserable as they always did, he was mistaken. The tributes standing on the chariot had their heads up as if to look every single spectator in the eye. Their hands were clasped together in a show of unity, unlike the other tributes, who stood as far apart as they possibly could. The girl’s hair fluttered behind her like a swarm of pink butterflies. A crown of leaves sat atop the boy’s blond hair. Taehyun’s gaze wandered down to his face, and his blood ran cold. In all his years watching the parade from the safety of The Capitol, he had kept an eye on that specific chariot, afraid to see a familiar face. And boy, was this face familiar. He kept staring at the screen, hoping he was imagining things. He believed if he blinked enough times, the image would right itself, and he would see the real tribute. But when the image didn’t change, he tapped back into the list of tributes and scrolled down.

Sure enough, Choi Beomgyu, Taehyun’s childhood best friend from District 7, was a tribute in this year’s Hunger Games.

____

After that, Taehyun had been horribly distracted for the rest of the parade. He hadn’t even looked at the other tributes, he was too transfixed on Beomgyu. He had changed so much since the last time he had seen him, but at the same time, he hadn’t. Obviously, he had grown up, far taller than the boy he had once known. He had grown into his features now too, with his soft jaw and sparkling eyes. But he looked the same in all the ways that counted. Even now, facing what was most likely his imminent death, he still looked warm, despite any attempts not to. Taehyun had always thought Beomgyu was the human version of a hug, and he was glad to see that still seemed to be the case. 

He spent the entirety of President Snow’s speech trying not to think about Beomgyu. He couldn’t know Beomgyu, or else he could lose his job. The Gamemakers did their best not to interfere with the Games in favor of any one tribute, at least until the President told them otherwise. If people found out he knew Beomgyu… no, it best to just best to reject that part of his history. Forget that he ever grew up in District 7. Everyone around him certainly had. Still, as the President droned on, Taehyun hoped no one noticed how his gaze kept flitting back to Beomgyu.

Taehyun had never been more relieved to leave work than he was that night. He needed to get out of that room and away from that screen. Or the face on that screen. He blended in with the crowd leaving the parade, his eyes searching for Huening Kai. Almost immediately, he spotted his squishy face and jogged to meet up with him. He pulled the younger boy aside, away from the flock of ears eager for the newest gossip. 

Huening Kai, as always, was all smiles until he read the expression on Taehyun’s face. The pair sat down on a bench as Taehyun told him about the parade and seeing Beomgyu.

“I don’t really get it,” Huening Kai said, “So you’re upset about seeing him?”

“Of course, I am!” Taehyun blurted, a little too loudly. “I mean, I’m not upset about seeing  him, I’m upset about him being a tribute.”

“Because he’s going to die?” Huening Kai asked, clearly not concerned about being blunt. 

“Well, that, and it’s my first year as Gamemaker. I don’t want to mess this up. This is the only thing I’ve trained for. I don’t know what else I can even do.”

“And you’re afraid Beomgyu being in The Games will mess that up?”

Taehyun nodded, even though they both already knew the answer. 

Huening Kai, for once at a loss for words, threw his arm around Taehyun and patted his arm. 

“Do you want me to talk about something else? Take your mind off of it?” Huening Kai always knew what Taehyun needed from him. Words were just a formality for them.

Taehyun nodded and sank into his embrace. Huening Kai talked about his favorite outfits of the night, what he had to do at The Academy tomorrow, and how the people behind him at the parade wouldn’t stop complaining about how they wanted their skin to be dyed  hot  pink, not  light  pink, which Huening Kai had apparently found very amusing. 

Taehyun both was and wasn’t listening, his thoughts drifting away from his best friend’s stories. Everything was exactly the same: he was still a Gamemaker, about to work on his very first Games. He had been looking forward to this for such a long time. Was he really going to let some boy he used to know ruin all his hard work? In all honesty, he hadn’t thought about Beomgyu for years. He was just in shock, he told himself. Once the Games started, everything would feel right again. He allowed Huening Kai’s words to lull him into some sense of normalcy.

Even so, before he slept that night, Taehyun realized that for the first time ever, he had a secret. And he feared what would happen to both him and Beomgyu if he was found out.

Chapter Text

Beomgyu woke the next morning feeling disoriented and like his head was going to implode. He remembered feeling like this once before. It was during the holidays when his parents were too exhausted from cooking all day and stuffing themselves with rich, heavy foods to keep a close watch on Beomgyu and Soobin. Just one glass of wine and the two of them were passed out with no signs of stirring. It was that same wine that the boys quietly crept past their bedroom to steal. It had been Beomgyu’s idea, of course, but surprisingly, Soobin hadn’t disagreed. They spent the night passing the bottle back and forth, both marveling at their luck and grimacing at the taste. Soon the bottle was empty, and the boys collapsed into breathless fits of giggles. They paid dearly for their fun the next day, each sporting headaches and fresh bags under their eyes. And then there was the punishment when their mother found the bottle empty the following day.

Beomgyu was disappointed to find he didn’t wake up at home with nothing but a nasty hangover and a stern talking to in his future. Instead, he found himself in a lavish but unfamiliar room. The sun shone in from the floor to ceiling window as he remembered where exactly he was. With a groan, he yanked the cover over this head to block out the light. He was just on the verge of falling back asleep when a sharp knock sounded at his door. Beomgyu was not pleased to see the orange cloud that was Jaxon Bauble first thing in the morning, but then again, there was a lot about this whole situation Beomgyu was not pleased about. Jaxon ushered him down to breakfast without so much as a “good morning.”

Yeonjun and Ryujin were already seated, the latter looking about as chipper as Beomgyu felt. The only thing that could make a dent in Beomgyu’s bad mood was the spread of food in front of him. Back home, Beomgyu always had enough food to eat, but his breakfast usually consisted of the same eggs and toast every morning. But laid out on the table were plates and plates of food: heaping piles of sausages, freshly baked bread surrounded by various bowls of spreads, an egg dish stuffed with cheese and vegetables, several dishes he couldn’t even identify and enough fruit to fill a garden. He grabbed a slice of bread, slathered something green on it, which tasted delicious, and helped himself to a bit of everything. 

As they ate, Yeonjun talked about what the next few days would look like. “Almost every waking moment is going to be spent training. And when you’re not training, you’ll be on your way to training or coming back from training or talking about training. Most of it will be with the other tributes,” he popped a grape in his mouth and continued, “but you will get a chance to train by yourselves before your evaluation.

“There are lots of different ways to approach training. This is what I suggest: try everything once until you find what you’re good at. Once you find your specialty,  stop doing it.  You can practice it later when you train individually, but you don’t want the other tributes to see it and peg you as a threat. And don’t neglect survival skills. I know we went over some already, but you’ll need to practice them in a more practical setting.”

“What about the other tributes?” Beomgyu asked. “Should we try to make allies or steer clear?”

“Honestly, that’s up to you. It depends on what kind of game you want to play. Allies can be important, but ultimately there is only one winner. Just be nice to everyone and don’t make any enemies.”

“Should we train together?” Ryujin asked through a mouthful of bread.

“Yeah, there’s no harm in that, everyone else will be training in pairs too. Just don’t make it seem like you’re too close. Remember, you don’t want to do anything that might make you a threat.”

Beomgyu remembered what Yeonjun said the other day about only having to kill one person to win. It was clear Yeonjun wanted them to wait it out while the others killed each other off. An interesting strategy considering how Yeonjun played his own Games…

After breakfast, Beomgyu showered and met the other two to head down for training. The Tribute Center housed both the tribute’s living quarters as well as the training facility. The three of them climbed in the elevator, and Yeonjun pressed the button for the training floor. The elevator stopped a few stories down, and a small, terrified looking girl entered with a large boy with broad shoulders and an older looking man.

“Tessa and Pax. District 4. And their mentor.” Yeonjun whispered to Beomgyu and Ryujin. 

The boy fixed Beomgyu with a stare so fierce Beomgyu was glad when the doors open to let him out into the training center. 

Beomgyu and Ryujin bid Yeonjun goodbye and watched as he boarded the elevator again. Whether he was off to do some mentor thing or eat a second helping of breakfast, Beomgyu wasn’t sure. 

Aside from the duo from District 4, they were the first tributes there. Beomgyu took this chance to explore the center while the other tributes filed in. It was the biggest room Beomgyu had ever been in, and it was filled with racks of spears, tridents, and axes. There were targets all around the room, some being regular circle targets, and others shaped like people with bullseyes over the head and heart. Beomgyu approached a table with an assortment of blades— swords, daggers, throwing knives— and picked one up, feeling surprisingly secure with its weight in his hand. That is, until he dropped it and the crash echoed throughout the room. He quickly replaced it and walked away like nothing happened, pretending to look very interested in the poisonous plants display. 

There was also a set of glass doors that led to a separate room. He was about to peek inside when the instructor called everyone over to lay out the ground rules. 

“You will be free to use whatever stations you please, I suggest you don’t overlook the less glamorous ones if you don’t wish to die from hypothermia or dehydration. No fighting will be tolerated, and if you cannot follow that rule, you will be thrown out and receive no further training. Are we clear?”

The tributes let out a collective mumble in response. 

“Good, then you may begin. You may ask me questions if you have any, but there are no promises I can actually answer them.” She walked away to her post to oversee them as the rest of the tributes dispersed. Beomgyu watched as the boy from the elevator— Pax, he remembered— headed straight for a trident. A girl with bright red hair grabbed a sword with so much confidence that she could only be a Career. The boy trailing her was massive and had his nails modified into sharp claws— yes, those were definitely Careers. 

Despite their instructor’s advice, everyone seemed to have grabbed a weapon and ignored the survival stations. Beomgyu found Ryujin and waved her over to the fire making station. Beomgyu took a knife from a nearby table and carved a groove into a log. As he did so, he tried not to think about the carving on the table back home. He then grabbed a smaller stick, placed one end of it into the groove, and ran his hands down the stick while rotating, copying a technique he had seen work in previous Games. 

As he worked, he asked Ryujin, “So, what do you think of everyone?” 

Ryujin breathed out a laugh, “Well, when you dropped that knife, Wonjun from District 12 asked if you were from my district, and then we made fun of you for a couple minutes, so he seems cool. I don’t think he would kill us.”

Great. That was one out of, what, twenty-two? Not enough to make Beomgyu feel much better. 

“I think those are the Careers,” he took his hand off the stick to point out the redhead and the claw boy he had seen. 

“Cherry and Jupiter. District 1.” When Beomgyu gave her a shocked look, she said, “What? I got up earlier than you did, and Yeonjun told me about the Careers. Look, those are the other ones, Pixie and Summit from 2.” She gestured to a pair practicing archery. Beomgyu gulped when he saw an arrow in the middle of the target. Right over the heart. 

“What did he say we- fuck!” Beomgyu said as he pulled his hands back. He hadn’t been paying attention, and the wood had started smoking and sparking. Ryujin quickly grabbed some smaller sticks and other kindling to nurse the small embers into a fire. She arranged them in a sort of tent shape and let the flames climb up the structure. Within minutes, they had a small fire. The two shared a high five, which left Beomgyu’s hand stinging from the impact. Ryujin was stronger than she looked. 

They stamped out their fire and made their way to the camouflage station. There was an assortment of paints, all made from natural sources— things you could find in the arena— and pictures to use as a guide. Beomgyu was flipping through them when Ryujin said, “You were saying?”

It took Beomgyu a moment to remember what he was talking about before the fire startled him. “Oh yeah, what did Yeonjun say we should do about the Careers?”

“He said to avoid engaging with them in any way. That’s a fight we won’t win. He told me they tend to avoid practicing survival skills,” Beomgyu glanced over at them laughing by the weapons racks, confirming her statement. “Their arrogance will kill them before we have to.”

Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably and directed his attention instead to the camouflaging. He chose a picture at random, a rocky mountainside, and tried to make his arm look even remotely similar to that. After a few minutes, his whole arm was gray, but he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He added some black and white strokes to give it some dimension, but it didn’t look convincing at all.

He glanced over at Ryujin, whose own arm looked like a beautiful garden. He must have made a shocked noise because she looked up at him and then his arm. She tried to stifle a giggle but was unsuccessful. “Art never was your thing, was it?”

Beomgyu scoffed. “I’m good at coloring! And tracing!”

She just rolled her eyes. “Hey, remember when you asked me to draw that fairy? For a valentine, right?” Beomgyu nodded, and she continued, “So, you wanna tell me who it was for? You know, since we’re gonna die soon anyway?” Beomgyu opened his mouth to respond, but Ryujin just kept talking. “Wait! I wanna guess! Was it Nina? I bet it was Nina. I mean, I had a crush on her too, so maybe I’m just projecting, but I really feel like it was her.” She said all of this very quickly and was out of breath by the time she stopped talking. 

“Well, actually, it was a boy.” 

Her surprise was evident on her face. “Beomgyu! I had no idea! I guess I shouldn’t have assumed, I mean, me of all people should’ve known better. Still, who was it?” 

“Kang Taehyun.”

“Oh.  Oh.  He was in the year below us? The one who moved away, right? I’m sorry, that sucks.”

Beomgyu had to laugh. They were tributes in a deadly game, and his childhood crush moving away was what sucked? 

“Yeah, but I gave that valentine to him when I was what, ten? And he moved away when I was twelve. He’s probably off living some grand life in the Capitol now.” It occurred to Beomgyu that he too was in the Capitol now, perhaps the closest he’d been to Taehyun in years. “Sometimes, I miss him, but I think that’s because he was my first crush, and not because I actually miss him.”

“You never forget your first crush,” said Ryujin dreamily.

“Let me guess. Nina?” Beomgyu asked. 

“Of course!”

“Anyways, sometimes I think about him, and I hope he kept the valentine, but it’s not like I never moved on from the crush I had when I was ten.”

“I’m sure he kept it. You’re awesome, and anyone would be honored to get something like that from you. Also, he probably kept it because of the badass fairy I drew.”

They painted for a little longer, but Beomgyu could never salvage the gray blob on his arm. He just hoped the fancy Capitol showers would be powerful enough to wash it off.  

Soon, some tributes— mainly the Careers— started vacating the center, claiming they didn’t need any more training. Beomgyu wasn’t sure of that but was glad that the weapon racks had freed up. 

They spent the next hour or so trying to find their specialty, as Yeonjun had called it. He hadn’t found his, but he had figured out what it wasn’t . It wasn’t archery, sword fighting, or spear throwing. Just to name a few. 

Ryujin had found hers, though. They went to a set of targets and picked up a few throwing knives. Beomgyu threw first, aiming for the center of the target. His knife clanged lamely against the wall, nowhere near the target. Ryujin took her turn next and actually hit the target, missing the bullseye by a surprisingly small amount, given it was her first attempt. Beomgyu watched as she took a deep breath, aimed, and threw again. Much closer to the center this time. Not only was she a natural, but she knew how to correct herself. 

Ryujin went off to try archery again, muttering something about seeing if she could improve the same way she had with knife throwing, her pink hair bobbing as she practically skipped away. Beomgyu found himself wandering over to the same doors he had come across earlier. Now he saw a panel near the door. He tapped on it, and a screen came to life. He clicked the word “practice,” and a new set of options appeared. Based on the options, it seemed to Beomgyu like this room was used to practice combat. The screen displayed different weapons to practice with. Beomgyu clicked on the axe, as that was what he was most familiar with after having worked in the lumber yards of District 7. He grabbed one off the rack and entered the room, not sure what to expect. As he walked in, he heard the doors lock behind him.

There was a circle in the center of the room that Beomgyu assumed he was supposed to step on. Once he did, it triggered the simulation to start. 

Immediately, a hologram in the shape of a human came barreling towards him. Beomgyu’s self-preservation instinct kicked in, and he swung the axe towards the figure’s torso. He expected the axe to slide through easily as it was just a hologram, but somehow, through technology more advanced than Beomgyu could ever understand, he felt resistance as he made contact. He shuddered to think that they might have found a way to recreate the sensation of chopping a real human. Once his axe swung through the torso, the hologram dissolved. For a moment, Beomgyu just stood there, panting and slightly mortified. 

But now, when a new hologram generated behind Beomgyu, he was ready for it. The figure lunged for Beomgyu, but he ducked out of the way. This time, from the ground, he aimed for his attacker’s legs, striking them at the knees. Once he heard a frightening realistic crack, he knew his aim had been true. Now that he was in the swing of things, he faced the next few with ease. The attackers were getting smarter and more difficult as the simulation continued, but Beomgyu was also getting better. He figured out that a well-timed jump or a quick run could easily get him the upper hand. It almost felt like a game, and he found he was starting to become excited for the next challenge. 

The simulation made a noise, which Beomgyu interpreted to mean this was his last challenger. He smiled and spun his axe in his hand for no reason other than it looked cool. This challenger came at him swinging, and Beomgyu met all their blows with the blunt end of his weapon. Before he knew it, Beomgyu had cornered them, and he was swinging his axe when he felt like his arm was being wrenched out of its socket. He panicked and turned to see another attacker had grabbed hold of him. He had been so caught up he hadn’t taken the time to make sure he was alone. His shoulder throbbed with pain as the figure pulled him back with all their strength. They wrapped their arms around Beomgyu’s neck in a sort of chokehold and dragged him towards the center of the room. Beomgyu scrambled, swinging and kicking his feet, but it was no use. He looked down and remembered the weapon in his hands. He slammed the end of the axe into the figure’s side, again and again, until they dropped him. He jumped to get up and immediately swung for the figure’s heart. Before it had even dissolved, he turned to face his original attacker. They were charging right for him. He stood still until the last second and jumped out of the way, sticking his leg out to trip them. They landed on the floor with a thud, and Beomgyu kicked them, once, twice, thrice, before swinging his axe in one final arc, aiming for the thing’s neck. When this hologram dissolved, the lighting in the room changed, and the doors made a small hissing sound, signaling the end of the simulation. 

He looked down where his attacker had just been and saw that he had swung so hard his axe stuck in the ground. He yanked it out, noting the angry dent it left in the floor. Covered in so much sweat his clothes clung to him, Beomgyu left the room, his arms weary as he hung the axe back up. 

Outside the room was Ryujin, her eyes huge, as if in awe.

“How much did you see?” He asked, suddenly ashamed of his behavior.

“Most of it. You’re like, scary good.”

Beomgyu thought about the way he had lost himself in there. What had mortified him at first thrilled him by the end. He had enjoyed it. 

“Yeah, scary,” he spat, disgusted with himself.

Not long after that, Yeonjun came to collect them. Beomgyu avoided the axe for the rest of the day, not only because he had discovered it was his specialty but also because he feared what he would do if he held it again. On the elevator ride down and all throughout dinner, they explained to Yeonjun what had happened at training. They told him about making fire, Beomgyu’s lack of ability in the camouflage department, and what they had observed the other tributes doing. Beomgyu gnawed on a tortilla as Ryujin told the story of Beomgyu’s axe practice. He hated that she sounded impressed with his skill. Like it was something to be proud of. After eating far less than he had at breakfast, Beomgyu excused himself, claiming fatigue after a long day of training. 

Footsteps followed him to his room. “Look, Jaxon, I don’t care-” but when he turned around, the head of hair following him was blue, not orange.

“What do you want?” Beomgyu snapped.

“Are you okay? You seemed… off at dinner.” Yeonjun said.

“Oh, did I? Hmm, I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that I’m about to die. Yeah, maybe that’s it!” He was throwing a fit, and he knew it, but he really didn’t care.

Yeonjun seemed unfazed by his behavior. “Beomgyu, talk to me. I’m your mentor. If anyone knows what you’re going through, it’s me.”

Beomgyu wanted to spit in his face that no, he didn’t know what he was going through, but he couldn’t. Because Yeonjun was right. 

Beomgyu sighed and collapsed onto a squashy chair in his room. “I just…” He started, but that didn’t feel right, so he started again, “You know the axe simulation that Ryujin talked about? I  liked that. I was having fun. Like it was a game. I know it wasn’t real, but it was designed to feel as real as possible. What if, when I do the real thing, I enjoy it then?” His voice stuck in his throat, and when he pressed the base of his palms into his eyes, he was surprised when his hands came away wet. “I just, I don’t want to lose who I am. Winning isn’t worth that.”

Yeonjun nodded, taking his time to answer. “Beomgyu, that’s exactly what they want. They  want  you to enjoy it. They want to change who you are and make you fit into whatever narrative they are trying to spin. And they’re powerful. You don’t even realize you’re doing exactly what they want until it’s too late. But the fact that you hate how you felt? That you’re repulsed by the fact that you enjoyed it? That’s what’s important. You felt the way they wanted you to, but when you came back down, you felt the way you really feel. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you felt perfectly normal after that. And trust me, when it comes to the real thing, you won’t enjoy it at all.” 

“How do I stop them from manipulating me? From changing the way I feel?”

The older sighed, resignation written on his face. “Sometimes, you just have to let them. After all, these are their Games, and you want to win, right?” Beomgyu nodded, and Yeonjun continued, “Then you have to play by their rules. If you win, you’re gonna come out of this thing different, there’s no way to avoid it. But as long as you remember  why  you want to win, and who you’re going home to, they can’t change the parts of you that matter.”

Beomgyu smiled weakly. “You know, you’re not too bad at this mentor stuff.”

“I hope you two are taking notes, I expect one of you to be joining me next year.” Beomgyu chuckled at that, though they could both tell it wasn’t sincere. “Are you better now?”

“Yeah, I think I was just caught up in the moment and really, really scared.”

“Good, now do you wanna go eat more food?”

Beomgyu practically ran back into the dining room.

_____

The next couple days of training were more of the same. Their numbers started to dwindle as more and more of their fellow tributes decided they didn’t need any more training. Whether they were arrogant or just giving up, Beomgyu wasn’t sure. He stuck with Ryujin as much as he could, learning about poisonous plants, making snares to trap food, and climbing the ropes together. They were still careful to spend some time apart to be sure they weren’t seen as a duo. 

He kept a careful watch on the Careers as well as some standouts from other districts. Pax, the boy from District 4, as well as Dayoung from 5 and Thora from 11 all seemed to be very real threats. 

Beomgyu avoided practicing with the axe again until his individual training session to keep himself from being perceived as a threat. His second experience in the simulation was much easier than the first, and now he knew how to handle his emotions afterward. He let himself ride the adrenaline high but made sure to keep himself grounded, thinking about what it would feel like to see his parents and Soobin again. 

His leg bounced as he waited to go in for individual evaluation. Of course, he knew that somehow the Gamemakers had watched all their training up until now, but this was the day that mattered the most. 

“Will you stop that?” Ryujin whispered, gesturing to his leg.

“Sorry, can’t help it.”

The boys were going first, so as the girl from District 6, Babby, was called, Beomgyu’s nerves mounted even higher. He was next.

Too soon, he heard his name, and the doors opened for him to enter. He looked back at Ryujin, who gave him an encouraging nod and walked into the training center. This time, the Gamemakers were watching him from a balcony up above. They stared at him as he made his way to the middle of the room. He stared back, making eye contact with each and every one of them. Until he met a pair of eyes that was familiar.  No , he thought, it can’t be . No, this wasn’t real, he was just imagining it. His brain had conjured him up because he had been thinking about him the other day. There was no way that Taehyun, the radiant boy from his childhood, his first-ever crush, was here.

He shook his head, trying to make the image disappear. “Ch-Choi Beomgyu. District 7,” he announced himself, stumbling over the words. 

“You have 10 minutes.”

Immediately he headed for the simulation room. He grabbed the axe and took one last look back at the balcony, still seeing the illusion of Taehyun.

He was still in his own head when the first figure came at him. He swung and missed, barely grazing the hologram’s right arm. The mistake forced him to refocus, and he tackled the rest of the simulation as easily as the last time. He hung up his axe, proud of his performance, and feeling good about his chances. He thanked the Gamemakers the way Yeonjun had told him to and left the room. He was about to look back at Taehyun again but forced himself not to. He had enough going on without ghosts following him around. 

Chapter Text

In the days since Beomgyu left, Soobin felt like he was living a half-life. They had always depended on each other, but it wasn’t clear until now how much he needed his brother. They had never been apart for longer than a few hours or the occasional night when Beomgyu slept at a friend’s house. 

The thing that hurt Soobin the most about this whole process was that even though Beomgyu was his own brother, he had to watch him the same way everyone else did. There was no special treatment for tributes’ families, no monetary compensation, no counseling sessions to help them cope. All he could do was watch his brother through the television in their home and hope for the best.

The night of the Tribute Parade, Soobin had been the only one strong enough to watch. For all his parents’ talk about being  so proud  of Beomgyu and  honored  to be a part of Panem’s history, they still locked themselves in their bedroom that night, spouting some lie about needing to get up early the next day. 

In a lot of ways, watching the Parade this year had been the same as in years past. He still laid on the floor (because he preferred to lay down while watching TV and he was too tall to lay comfortably on the couch), he still found himself engrossed in all the discussion about the tributes and then felt disgusted with himself for it. Of course, when the seventh chariot rolled out, he could no longer keep deluding himself. At that point, it had only been a day since Beomgyu left, but already he looked so different. First off, his hair was blond, but that wasn’t what Soobin noticed. He had rarely seen his brother looking so serious. Beomgyu always had a smile or a laugh for everyone, even if he wasn’t feeling that way. 

And then, he was gone, and the whole world moved onto the next chariot. 

The next few days were almost unbearable. He could handle Beomgyu’s absence, as hard as it was, but he couldn’t handle the pitying stares everywhere he went. Everyone saw him and Beomgyu as a matching set, never one without the other. They had other friends— Beomgyu more than Soobin— but they still preferred each other’s company. And now everyone knew him as the boy whose brother was in the Hunger Games. He wished Beomgyu could win and come home right now, if only to stop the stares.

There had been little update from the Capitol on the tributes for a few days now. Soobin assumed they were going through some sort of training process. Today, however, that all changed. Work and school were canceled for everyone because around midday, the evaluation scores would come out. And then later tonight, the tributes would have their interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Then tomorrow, the Games would start. 

He was sitting in between his parents on the couch (they wouldn’t let him lie on the floor, something about family bonding) waiting for the results to come in. Caesar Flickerman droned on and on about how tough the tributes were this year and how grueling their training was. He said the same sort of thing every year, and Soobin couldn’t help but think that if the Capitol was going to kill 23 kids every year, they could at least write a new script.

Finally, he shuffled his papers, and the music started to swell. And then, he proceeded to dive back into a lengthy explanation on how the tributes were evaluated and how the scores were calculated. “The scores are on a scale of 1 to 12, 12 being the best score…” Soobin slumped back into the couch, not perking up again until he heard “... from District 1, with a score of 9.” Caesar quickly rattled off the scores of the other Career Tributes: 10, 11, and 8.

“8, huh?” His dad nudged Soobin’s arm. “There hasn’t been a Career with that low of a score in years. Gyu’s got a chance.”

Soobin held his breath. It had been the first time he’d heard either of his parents talk so casually about what was happening. He blamed it on the whiskey he could smell on his breath, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. He supposed everyone had their own way of coping, he just wished his father had chosen a way that smelled better.

Soobin wasn’t really sure what sort of score he was hoping for Beomgyu, but he knew he wanted him to be higher than the lowest (which so far was Zech from District 3 with a score of 3, followed closely behind by Tessa from 4 with a score of 5). 

“Now for the tributes from District 7.” Caesar now shared the screen with a shot of Ryujin from the Tribute Parade. Ryujin was in the same year as him and Beomgyu, but they had never been in the same social circles. Still, he decided he wanted to go see her family soon. If they were hurting the same way he was, he wanted to help them out however he could. 

“Shin Ryujin, with a score of… 7.”

His mother started clapping. “Well done, Ryujin!”

Soobin was also impressed by her score, but couldn’t dwell on that because next was…

“Choi Beomgyu with a score of 8.”

It was like fireworks had gone off in their living room. Both his parents jumped up, hollering and squishing Soobin into the tightest hug he had ever experienced. Soobin couldn’t help but smile. For a tribute who wasn’t a Career, 8 wasn’t just above average, it was  great.  Soobin swelled with pride, and he wanted to shout, “That’s my brother!” but everyone in the room already knew that.

By the time their celebration had calmed down, they were already announcing the tributes from District 11. 

He tried to focus on the rest of the scores, but Soobin felt… itchy in some way. Not physically. He just felt like he should be doing  more.  It was clear Beomgyu was doing the best he could, and Soobin wished he could do something to help his brother. 

To make himself feel less useless, he set off to visit Ryujin’s family as soon as the results show ended. Like he suspected, they were absolutely grateful for the help. 

“It feels good to talk to someone who  understands ,” her mother had said. “Everyone says, ‘I can’t even imagine what it must be like’ and they’re right! They can’t! So stop trying!” 

Soobin could see where Ryujin got her spark from. 

Soobin had offered to help cook, but after only a few minutes, it was clear she needed to take over if they wanted something edible for dinner. Instead, Soobin spent the afternoon playing with Ryujin’s three-year-old brother, Insoo. He showed Soobin his toy axe and then proceeded to whack Soobin in the shin with it. And he absolutely  loved  climbing all over Soobin and insisted on so many piggyback rides that by the time he headed home, his back ached. Even so, he was glad he had gone and would volunteer to be the little boy’s punching bag again if it made him feel better.

He had lost track of time playing with Insoo, and the interviews had already started when he got home. He didn’t mind, though, and had actually been planning on skipping the other interviews anyways. He didn’t want to humanize the other tributes; that would make rooting against them that much harder.

Soobin hovered in the kitchen, helping himself to the dinner his dad had made earlier until his parents called him into the room. He came in time for the end of Ryujin’s interview and watched her make a subtle shout out to her girlfriend. 

Ryujin left the stage, and the camera focused back on Caesar Flickerman. He was wearing yellow from head to toe, including his hair and eyebrows. Soobin wasn’t exactly a fashion expert, as Beomgyu liked to point out, but he thought anyone would agree that his yellow lipstick wasn’t doing him any favors.

“He caught your interest at the Parade, but who  is  the boy from District 7? Give it up for Choi Beomgyu!”

Beomgyu walked on the stage, oozing charm and confidence. He was wearing a sparkly green suit, and Soobin wondered if his brother loved or hated wearing it.

He took the seat next to Caesar, flashing a smile to the audience as he did so.

Caesar leaned in, “So tell us what we want to know. Who  is  Choi Beomgyu?”

The audience fell silent, holding their breath for an answer. “I would’ve studied more if I knew the test was gonna be this hard.”

Even through the screen, Soobin could hear the eruption of laughter from the audience. Beomgyu laughed too, that deep, hearty laugh of his. Even Caesar had a genuine smile on his face. It didn’t even matter what Beomgyu said the rest of the interview: the audience already loved him. Yeonjun must have trained him well. Soobin remembered his interview going very similarly.

“Okay, okay,” Caesar conceded, “let’s start with an easier question then. What’s your favorite part about the Capitol?”

“The food.” Beomgyu blurted he had even finished asking the question, earning more laughter from the audience. Soobin knew at least this answer was completely genuine.

“I hope your parents aren’t watching this.”

Beomgyu turned to face the camera, “I’m sorry, guys, I love your cooking, but they have cake  every day  here!” Soobin’s mother let out a strangled sort of cry, but Soobin couldn’t tell if it was out of joy or sorrow.

“Well, if you win this thing, we’ll make sure you get as much cake as you want.”

Beomgyu showed off his dazzling smile. “That’s enough motivation for me to win right there.”

“Speaking of winning, you surprised everyone with your score of 8. Do you like your chances?”

This question made Soobin very uncomfortable, but Beomgyu handled it with grace. “Believe me, I was surprised with my score too. And as for winning, it’s not about chances for me. I have to win, there’s no way around it.”

“And why is that?”

“My family means everything to me. I know everyone says that, but I really mean it. My parents are two of the best people you’ll ever meet, and I’ve never been away from my brother for this long. I have to win so I can be with them again.”

Both Caesar and the audience let out a collective “aww.” 

“Well, that was very moving. Now, I have one last very important question.” He paused for dramatic effect. “What is your favorite kind of cake?”

“You know I can’t answer that!” 

“I know, but I had to ask!” Caesar let out the ugliest guffaw. “Choi Beomgyu from District 7, everybody!” 

The responding applause was so loud his dad had to lower the volume. 

Soobin was bursting with joy. Beomgyu had done it. He had  actually  done it. He had made the Capitol adore him, and he made it look so easy.  And  he had earned a great score. Beomgyu had done everything he could to set himself up for success in the Games. For the first time, Soobin dared to let himself think that his brother might actually be coming home.

Chapter Text

Taehyun couldn’t believe how incredibly stupid he was. Letting Beomgyu see him at his individual evaluation was absolutely idiotic. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but he had begged his boss to let him come along. And now, things were about to get worse before they got better.

He and the other Gamemakers were up early, rushing to make sure everything was in order for the Games to start later today. This included checking that the explosives under the pedestals were ready to go and that the Cornucopia was stocked with something for every tribute. They wanted to entice as many of them as possible in hopes of starting the Games off with a juicy bloodbath. Taehyun double and triple checked that there was an axe available for Beomgyu, though he hoped he didn’t go for it. After his evaluation, it was clear Beomgyu could handle himself, but Taehyun still didn’t want him risking it just for a weapon. He could only hope Choi Yeonjun was smart enough to tell Beomgyu to steer clear of the Cornucopia. 

Taehyun logged into his station and grimaced as the person next to him lit a cigarette. He then offered one to Taehyun.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.” His nose wrinkled as the smell drifted towards him.

“Might wanna think about starting. Bout to get real stressful in here.” The man tried to puff out a smoke ring but only coughed out a large cloud. 

They had split the arena into four different sections, each with its own unique climate. This was the first time they had ever attempted to use different weather patterns within the same arena, so Taehyun took the liberty to check that the sections all held their own temperature and that the hot climate wasn’t causing the icy one to melt. 

He then checked on his favorite part of the arena: a set of ruins in the middle of an otherwise empty meadow. The other Gamemakers had wanted to set it up without a second thought, but Taehyun insisted on making it beautiful. Flowers peeked up through the cracks in the foundation, and ivy crawled all over the remaining walls, giving off a wild sort of appearance. The roof still stood, providing shelter for any tribute that dared to enter a building that looked as though it could collapse at any minute. A stream ran through the middle of the ruins. They had hoped that would encourage tributes to come and possibly have a confrontation here. The whole point of a Gamemaker’s job was to create situations in which the tributes would be forced to fight each other; the ruins just provided a pretty backdrop for the violence. 

Taehyun took a virtual tour of the ruins, pleased with how stunning it looked. He felt his brain fizz for a second as if it was angry that one of Taehyun’s beautiful creations would be used for something so ugly. Taehyun shook the feeling off. Today was the day. He needed to focus.

“Taehyun, it’s time,” his boss called out to him. Taehyun was glad to leave his smoking coworker behind but dreaded what would happen next. 

Because Taehyun was headed to the arena. 

______

Beomgyu buzzed with both nervous energy and just plain energy. He had gone to bed still riding the high from his interview. He felt a bit slimy for acting so obviously fake, but all those feelings were drowned out by the thrill he felt from wooing over the audience. Yeonjun told him he had absolutely killed it, and that he was sure to get sponsors now. Now that the morning of the Hunger Games had dawned, however, last night’s successes felt fairly small compared to what would happen today. 

After a long shower that Beomgyu contemplated never leaving, he met Yeonjun and Ryujin for breakfast, which had quickly become part of his routine these past few days. Unlike the past few days, however, Beomgyu had absolutely no appetite; he only forced himself to eat because he had no idea when he would next have access to food. 

“When the timer counts down,  do not  go to the Cornucopia. If you need supplies, you can always get them later, but the Cornucopia is a guaranteed bloodbath,” Yeonjun gave them some last-minute advice. “Get as far away as you can, and try to find high ground so you can see what’s going on.”

For once, both Beomgyu and Ryujin were silent. 

“Look at me,” Yeonjun instructed, and they met his eyes. “I believe in you. I know what you can do, and I genuinely think I’m looking at one of the winners.” When Ryujin shook her head, he said, “I mean it. You guys have what it takes.”

Silence lingered over the trio, long and unbroken until Jaxon Bauble came to fetch them. This time, when they boarded the elevator, they went up instead of down. They emerged on the roof to see two hovercrafts waiting for them. One larger one for all the tributes and a smaller one for the mentors. As they boarded, they split up the boys and the girls, sending them to different sides of the craft. 

As they took off, a young boy came around with a long syringe-type device. No, not just any young boy. That was  Kang Taehyun.  There was no mistaking it this time, no way Beomgyu could convince himself this wasn’t really him. He was different in almost every way, but still unmistakably him. 

“Your tracker,” Taehyun said, gesturing for Beomgyu’s arm. Beomgyu obeyed, trying to get Taehyun to meet his eyes. Would he recognize him? Would he even care if he did? But no, Taehyun avoided his gaze and injected the tracker with the lightest, softest touch. 

“Nice hair,” Taehyun mumbled only loud enough for Beomgyu to hear before moving on so quickly Beomgyu almost thought he imagined it.

Beomgyu wanted to process this, to think about what it all  meant . That he hadn’t seen Taehyun in years, and then he shows up here of all places. Today, of all days. But then, they arrived, and there were bigger problems at hand.

Once they landed, each tribute was brought to their own individual waiting room. The room was small, only fit for a handful of people at most, with a large tube in the corner. Waiting for Beomgyu in his room was Bee, his stylist. She was holding out a hanger of clothing for him. 

She turned towards the wall to give him privacy as he changed. “I have no idea what kind of arena they cooked up this year. The top they gave you is thin enough to suggest something warm, maybe even tropical. But then they gave you this insulated coat? The pants are pretty standard, at least.” 

Between the two atrocious outfits she had given him and her inability to understand  this  outfit, Beomgyu thought Bee should look for a new job. 

Once Beomgyu was changed, she adjusted his coat and fixed his hair before bustling out of the room. She was quickly replaced by Yeonjun.

“I’m heading back to District 7 tomorrow. To check on your families and see how they’re doing. Is there anything you want me to say to them?” Yeonjun asked.

“Tell them I’ll see them in a few days.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Remember,  don’t  step off your platform until it’s time. They’re rigged to blow up if you step off a second too early.”

A robotic voice interrupted them. “Tributes, please step into your tubes.”

Beomgyu climbed in, and the doors started to move.

“Find Ryujin!” was Yeonjun’s final instruction before the doors closed, and Beomgyu was totally alone.

_____

They made it back to the Gamemakers’ Room just before the Games were about to start. Taehyun’s hands had only just stopped shaking as he took his seat again. He had begged for hours not to be the one to insert the trackers, but it was tradition that the newest Gamemaker did the “grunt work.” Taehyun hated every second of it. Hated not being able to talk to Beomgyu, hated the look of horror on his face. That’s why he couldn’t meet his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t like what he saw. 

Looking at the screen, Taehyun suddenly remembered that Beomgyu had never been able to stand still. He was always fidgeting, tapping his foot, or swaying from side to side. As he watched the tributes rise up into the arena, this fact came back into his mind, unbidden. What if Beomgyu hadn’t grown out of that? He tried to think back to what he was doing as he gave him the tracker. Taehyun could’ve sworn he’d been bouncing his leg as he waited. What if, as he stood on the platform, listening to the countdown, he swayed and tapped and fidgeted and accidentally set off the explosion? No, Taehyun couldn’t allow that. No one would notice if he simply disabled the explosive for a second and then turned it back on when the Games started. He justified this to himself quite easily. Beomgyu had scored high, and would likely make amazing TV. They couldn’t lose someone like that this early, they just couldn’t. Taehyun pressed the button to disarm it without a second thought.

_____

When the platform brought Beomgyu into the arena, his first thought was that maybe Bee wasn’t so bad at her job after all. The area immediately surrounding Beomgyu’s pedestal was a meadow filled with tall grasses and vibrant flowers. However, just mere feet away, the grassy landscape gave way to a desolate desert. On the other side of Beomgyu’s section was a demented take on a winter wonderland. It had big swaths of ice, and the giant icicles hanging from the trees looked more like fangs. On the opposite side of the arena was a green forest, with hints of brown and orange leaves. Where the sections all should have intersected, the Cornucopia sat instead. It was directly in the center of the tributes, blocking some in the forest section from Beomgyu’s view. The whole set up reminded Beomgyu of the four seasons, which, perhaps, was their intention. 

Beomgyu had spent the past few days memorizing the rest of the tributes’ names and recognized the ones on either side of him as Griffin from 9 and Wonjun, the boy Ryujin had talked to, from 12. Beomgyu made eye contact with Wonjun, who gave him a discrete nod. Beomgyu located Ryujin on the edge of the desert quadrant, near where the land turned to forest.

His pedestal made a weird clicking noise that he hadn’t heard come from anyone else’s, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because…

“10, 9, 8...”

He rolled his shoulders back.

“7, 6, 5...”

He bent his knees, ready to run.

“4, 3, 2...”

He took a long, deep breath.

“1.”

For a moment, he stood still, not daring to be the first one to move. Then, at the first sign of movement, he sprinted across the rest of the grassy area bypassing the Cornucopia and heading straight for the glaciers. He ran until he came across a tree and began to climb. He climbed high enough so he could see the bloodshed occurring down below. There was already one body on the ground: Rocket, the small boy from District 6, looked like his neck had been snapped. 

Closer to the mouth of the Cornucopia, a fight had broken out. In the thick of it was Pixie and Summit from District 2, wrestling over a bow and arrow with Amber from 9. 

Beomgyu climbed higher up the tree, his hands numb from the cold. He leaned out onto a branch and ripped off one of the massive icicles. It was about as long as his head and sharp at the end. He clung to it, ignoring the way the ice stung his hand. He kept watching the scene below, feeling more secure with his makeshift weapon. He scanned for Ryujin, but there was no sign of her pink head anywhere. Good, that meant she had gotten away too. 

His head whipped around at the sound of the cannon. Amber had lost her battle with the Careers. 

Beomgyu couldn’t look at the violence anymore, so he diverted his attention to what was inside the Cornucopia. Even from here, he could see the gleam of an axe, as well as throwing knives for Ryujin and backpacks full of supplies. If only there were some way to get to them. He couldn’t risk going down there now, but if he went without supplies much longer, he wouldn’t make it very far. 

Beomgyu started to climb down the tree when he heard a “Psst” sound. He looked down to see Wonjun motioning to him. He had managed to snag a pack from the Cornucopia and was holding it out to show Beomgyu. 

Beomgyu watched in horror as one moment Wonjun was standing there, a smile on his face, proud of his find, and the next a spear was driven right through his stomach. Blood dripped from the wound and bubbled from his mouth. Wonjun dropped his pack to clutch his stomach and fell to his knees. Beomgyu looked on from his vantage point as Thora from 11 collected her spear and ran off towards the forest sector. 

When he was sure she was gone, Beomgyu shimmied down the tree, discarded the icicle, and gently grabbed Wonjun’s pack, careful not to disturb his body. He glanced around to see if anyone was near him and then ran further into the glaciers.

When he was too cold and tired to run, he walked, his socks entirely soaked through with melted snow. This landscape was barren, and aside from the occasion snow-covered tree, there wasn’t much for shelter. He could see a snow-topped mountain in the distance but had no desire to go anywhere near it. Instead, he moved in the opposite direction, stopping every so often to wipe away some snow, making sure he wasn’t about to step on a frozen lake. 

He had spent half the day walking, and now the sun was setting, and he was ready to collapse. He felt sure no one else was stupid enough to follow him into this cold, miserable wasteland. He was ready to give up and just sleep where he was standing when he came across an opening. He tugged his coat closer to him and entered.

It was a giant cave, the inside about twice the size of Beomgyu’s classroom at school, and the ceiling was tall, about 3 stories high. Hundreds of icicles of all shapes and sizes hung from the ceiling and grew out of the floor. Beomgyu went all the way to the back of the cave. Despite being made of ice, it was much warmer in here than outside. It seemed as good a place as any to set up for the night.

He unslung Wonjun’s pack from his shoulder and tipped out its contents. Inside was a rope, flint, an empty canteen, gloves, and a knife. Beomgyu put the gloves on, glad to finally give his fingers some relief from the cold, and put the rope and flint back into the bag. He slammed the knife into the cave wall next to him until he had freed a chunk of ice. The chunk was about the size of a large grapefruit. He slammed it on the floor and watched it crack into smaller pieces. He collected the pieces and crammed them into the canteen, hoping that they would melt and he would have some water to drink. He tucked the canteen into his coat to warm it up.

He sat clutching the knife for what felt like hours and did not move from his spot until he heard Panem’s anthem. He walked to the cave entrance and stuck his head out to see the faces of the fallen tributes. He already knew about Rocket, Amber, and Wonjun, but Zech from 3, Jisung from 8, and both the tributes from 10 had also died. 

7 dead on the first day. He could imagine Caesar and whatever guest he brought on talking about it. “7 is quite low for the first day.” As if they were disappointed by the “low” number. 

Beomgyu returned to his spot at the back of the cave. He set the bag up as a pillow and laid down. He held tight to the knife, preparing for a fitful night’s sleep.

Chapter Text

When the knock sounded at the door, Soobin thought he imagined it. After a full night of watching the Hunger Games and getting no sleep, even when he tried, it seemed entirely possible that his exhausted mind was just making stuff up. But then the knock sounded again, louder this time. Soobin heaved his weary body from the floor to answer the door. It was probably just another well-wisher coming bye to give their condolences now that the Games had started. 

But when he opened the door, it wasn’t some neighborhood kid or middle-aged lady offering a casserole. No, on the other side of the door, in all his blue-haired glory, was Choi Yeonjun. 

Before Soobin’s mind could even wonder what Yeonjun was doing here, it started recording and analyzing every detail about the boy in front of him. He looked mostly like he did on TV and posters, but without all the makeup and editing, Soobin noticed things he never had about him. His face was round and soft, not rough and angled like they’d made him look. And the bags under his sharp eyes told Soobin he’d likely gotten as much sleep as he did. His mouth was small and screwed into a pout, so unlike the smirk he’d flashed at every interview and parade. The boy in front of him was real, not the watered-down version the Capitol served up. 

“Hello?” Soobin offered and then chastised himself for making it sound more like a question than a greeting. 

“Hey, do you mind if I come in?”

“Of course,” then, unsure if his meaning was clear Soobin continued, “Of course like, of course, I don’t mind not of course like-”

“I got it,” Yeonjun said as Soobin stepped aside to let him into their house. Soobin had always thought their house was nice, but with Yeonjun here, he felt like he was looking at it with new eyes. He couldn’t see the nice hand-crafted furniture his dad had worked so hard on or the ethereal view outside the windows. All he could see was the water damage stain in the corner of the living room and the spots in the kitchen where the paint was peeling off. 

“Soobin, who was at the door?” his mom called as she entered the room, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes fell upon their unexpected guest. “Choi Yeonjun,” she crossed the room, wiping her hands on her pants before extending one out for Yeonjun to shake. “I’m sorry we weren’t expecting you. I wasn’t aware mentors made house calls.”

“We don’t. The only people that know I’m here are Beomgyu, Ryujin, and the train conductor.” 

At Beomgyu’s name, Soobin’s head swiveled to the television, but it was early yet, and the tributes were all still asleep. The only things on the screen were nature shots from the arena and commercials for the newest Capitol products. 

“I wanted to pay a visit while the Games are still in their early stages. My parents said they wished they’d had someone to walk them through the whole ordeal, and I thought I could do that for you.”

“How can you leave the Capitol? Beomgyu needs you!” Soobin interrupted. 

“I know, I know,” Yeonjun said in a low soothing voice, similar to one you would use with a child. “I’m only here for the day. I’ve just been to see Ryujin’s family, so after this, I’m heading back to the Capitol. I wouldn’t have left at all if I thought Beomgyu and Ryujin couldn’t handle themselves for the first couple of days.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Soobin’s mother said, still not sounding entirely convinced. 

“There are a few things I’d like to help you get in order. As you know, only one tribute can win the Games, and while I still have hope that could be Beomgyu, it’s best to be prepared for anything. I was wondering if you had anything planned for funeral arrangements.”

The sheer force of Soobin’s anger could’ve leveled all the trees in the district. “ How dare-”

“Soobin, he’s right. We need to be ready for anything. We haven’t thought about that at all. But we don’t really have a lot of extra money lying around for a funeral.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yeonjun pulled out a wad of cash and placed it into her hands before she could refuse. “I know some people who can help.” Yeonjun began to list all the morticians and florists he knew. 

Soobin couldn’t bear to listen to the sound of them giving up on his brother. He sat up quickly and returned to his room, slamming the door as he did so. Beomgyu was doing everything he could to survive, and two of the people he needed most were arranging his funeral? And the worst part was, Soobin wasn’t doing anything better. Here he was, stewing in his room while his brother fought for his life. The feeling of uselessness pelted him again. 

As much as Soobin tried to drown it out, he could still hear every word. His mom was asking about Beomgyu’s training and how he scored so high, and Yeonjun was spinning some tale about Beomgyu’s natural ability with an axe. Soobin smiled in spite of himself. 

From the shuffling outside his door, he could tell Yeonjun was getting up to leave. 

“I’m glad I could help, but I’ve got to get back and start working on those sponsors. But before I go, Beomgyu wanted me to tell you,” Soobin pressed his ear to the door to hear better, “that he’ll see you in a few days.”

Soobin’s heart clenched.

He heard more shuffling, and then the front door open and close. Soobin crept over to his window and watched Yeonjun walk away. Off to the Capitol to get sponsors for Beomgyu…

Soobin’s legs took off before his brain could even process what he was doing. He sprinted out to meet Yeonjun.

“Take me with you,” Soobin said with a true smile on his face. This,  this , was the way he could do something, stop feeling so useless. He had finally figured out a way to-

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“Please, I need to come along. I want to help Beomgyu get sponsors. If I don’t do  something  and he- I couldn’t live with myself.”

Yeonjun’s eyes were kind, but his words were the last thing Soobin wanted to hear. “I understand, I really do. But you can’t just come to the Capitol. I could be in big trouble if people found out I let you come.”

“No one would even know!” Soobin pleaded, saying whatever he could to get himself on that train. 

“People talk. They would know. I’m sorry, but I just can’t allow it.” He glanced at his watch. “Listen, my train leaves in exactly 32 minutes, I need to leave now if I want to make it to the train station in time.” He fixed Soobin with one last look. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more for you.” And then, Yeonjun was walking away, ignoring Soobin’s yells to turn around and listen to him.

Soobin finally gave up and retreated to his room, slamming the door once again. This time, he slammed it so hard something fell from a shelf. He walked over and picked it up. It was his travel bag. He had only really used it when they visited family, but otherwise had no need for it. He reached up to put it back when he got an idea. He crammed as many clothes and essentials as possible into the bag and ran out the front door.

He was getting on that train, no matter what Choi Yeonjun said. 

Even though Yeonjun had a head start, he could still see him up ahead, walking through the middle of town. Soobin jogged to be close enough to follow but far enough behind to go unnoticed. He followed Yeonjun all the way to the train station, past the mayor’s large fancy home, and then the tiny, squalid houses that made Soobin thankful for everything he had. 

Soobin watched as Yeonjun clicked a button, and a set of doors opened up. He was still several hundred feet behind, and he had no idea if the train would take off early now that its only passenger was on board. He broke out into a sprint and nearly slammed into the side of the train. He went over to a different train car from the one Yeonjun had entered, clicked the button, and jumped inside, his heart leaping in his throat.

He slumped into a chair, set his bag on a table and tried to catch his breath. As the adrenaline wore off, the reality of what he’d done sunk in. He had snuck on a train  to the Capitol.  If anyone found out…

His spiraling was interrupted by the whir of the train car door. Soobin jumped and ducked behind the chair, making himself as small as possible.

“Whose bag is this?”

Shit shit shit.  He left the bag sitting on the table in plain sight.

Footsteps came closer to his hiding spot, but Soobin just squeezed himself into a tighter ball. 

“Soobin?” 

Still in his little ball, Soobin tilted his head up to find Yeonjun standing directly over him.

Soobin slowly raised himself to his full height– which he was pleased to see was much taller than Yeonjun’s– all the while planning what to say.

“I’m sorry but-”  Don’t apologize , a voice in his head that sounded like Beomgyu cried out. “No, I’m not sorry. You were being stupid. All I want to do is help my brother, and I’m not going to let you take that away from me.”

Soobin winced as he waited for Yeonjun to start yelling and screaming at him, but when he opened his mouth, the only sound that came out was a small laugh.

“Good, I was hoping you’d catch on.”

“What?”

“Why do you think I told you exactly when the train was leaving? And do you really think it was a mistake that I took the most obvious, visible route through town?” The look of shock on Soobin’s face only further spurred on Yeonjun’s laugh. “Like I said, there’s no way I could allow you to come, but if you snuck on… well, then I guess I’d have no choice but to let you stay.” 

Yeonjun exited the room with a wink, leaving Soobin to wonder what he had just got himself into. 

Chapter Text

When he woke, Beomgyu was more tired than he was when he fell asleep. Despite the cave’s insulation, he was shivering, and his limbs were numb except for a tingling sensation. The knife he had been holding now lay discarded at his side. He sat up slowly, to give his body time to wake up and warm up. Then he collected both his thoughts and his belongings before leaving this cold, miserable cave. 

The winter sector of the arena was bigger than Beomgyu could have ever imagined, and he wandered for hours, trying to find a way out of it until once again, night had fallen, and he had to spend one more night in this frozen tundra. He couldn’t believe the day had gone by that quickly. He wondered if the Gamemakers sped up the day because nothing was happening. After all, there were only two faces in the sky that night: the girls from 3 and 12.

When he woke up, Beomgyu only had three goals: find food, a good weapon, and get the hell out of here. The knife in his hand made him feel more secure, but was intended for skinning small animals rather than defending against human attacks. He longed for the reassuring weight of an axe, but the hollow feeling in his stomach told him what he should prioritize.

Now, after a full day of not eating, he needed to find a way out of here. Instead of wandering aimlessly like he did yesterday, he picked a direction and stuck to it, hoping that he would eventually walk into another climate. 

He took a sip from his canteen and found that he only had a mouthful of water left. So that was on the to-do list too. 

The sun was high in the sky when he started to see the tree line in the distance. He had the urge to run towards it, but the cold had sapped most of his energy, and he needed to conserve what little he had left. 

It was as if a line had been drawn on the ground, and not a single snowflake was allowed to cross it. On this side, nothing but snow and ice, with the occasional barren tree. On the other, a lush green forest. It almost reminded Beomgyu of home, with its hilly terrain, diverse plant life, and, of course, its abundance of trees. 

He stepped across the line.

The change in landscapes was so stark that the sudden temperature increase mixed with his empty stomach made Beomgyu feel nauseous. He sat down against a tree, peeled off his coat and gloves, stuffed them into his bag, and took several long, deep breaths. It wasn’t warm here by any means, but compared to what he had endured for the last 2 days, it was practically a hot summer’s day.

Beomgyu clutched his knife closer as he ventured further into the forest. In the winter landscape, he would’ve been able to see an attack coming from a mile away or track footprints through the snow to find out if anyone was following him. But here, someone could be lurking behind any tree, and the chirping of the birds was so loud it clouded his thoughts. 

He was careful to move very slowly, looking around for both fellow tributes and potential food sources. Just when he was sure he was all alone, he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

He stopped moving, stopped breathing for a whole minute. He surveyed the scene with his eyes, not even daring to turn his head around. Crouching down, he made himself as small as possible, hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t see him down here. As he stared at the ground, he saw it again, that movement, and found its source: a little green frog stared back at him. 

Beomgyu was so relieved he almost laughed. 

“Hey, little guy,” he whispered, still careful to keep his voice down. He stuck his finger out, offering a perch for the frog to jump onto. It was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand and looked up at him with big black eyes. The little creature ignored Beomgyu’s outstretched finger and resumed his hopping. 

Beomgyu decided to follow his new friend. He wasn’t exactly an expert on frog facts, but he did know that they needed to be near water. And where there was water, there would likely be all sorts of other animals to drink it. Sure enough, after only a few minutes, the frog had led him to a stream. Beomgyu took out his canteen and filled it the rest of the way up with the freshwater. 

The frog jumped into the water and swam away, leaving Beomgyu alone once again. Well, alone aside from the swarms of fish making their way down the stream. In what might have been either his stupidest or smartest idea yet, Beomgyu took out the coat he had been wearing not too long ago and dunked it into the water, using it as a makeshift net. With nowhere to go, 3 fish swam right into the coat, and Beomgyu scooped them up before they could escape. He wrapped them up in his coat, and when that didn’t stop them from flopping around, he shoved both the coat and the fish into his bag just until he had a fire going.

Making fire was much easier with a knife and flint than using sticks like he and Ryujin had practiced. After setting up a pile of twigs for the flames to catch on and striking the flint several times, Beomgyu had a fire large enough to cook with. He took the fish out from his now smelly bag and sliced their heads off before roasting them over the fire. They were bland and not entirely cooked all the way, but he was far too hungry to be picky. 

He squeezed out as much water as he could from his jacket to extinguish the fire. As he did so, he heard the first cannon of the day. The sound was followed by a loud rustle of trees nearby. Someone ran out of the bushes, nearly toppling over as they did so. Beomgyu brandished his knife, preparing for a fight.

“You have to help me!” they pleaded. “They just killed Preston, and now they’re going to kill me!”

Beomgyu could now see that the person in front of him right now was Dayoung from 5. And the Preston she was referring to was the boy from the same district. He didn’t know much about her and had only watched her train for a couple minutes, but the look of terror on her face was so genuine that Beomgyu had no choice but to help her.

“Who’s they? Who’s trying to kill you?”

“The Careers! They were following us, and Preston fell, and I wanted to go back, but I had to keep running, and they got him!” Her cries were loud and hysterical; if the Careers didn’t know where she had escaped to, they sure would know now. 

“Come on, let’s go, we have to go!” Beomgyu took one last glance to make sure he had packed up all his stuff before taking off in a run with Dayoung close behind. He was no longer concerned about being quiet; if Dayoung was right and the Careers were following her, they likely knew where they were anyways. He was only focused on getting them out of there. 

They ran deeper into the forest, the clusters of trees getting thicker and the ground becoming rockier. Beomgyu’s legs ached, and every breath scratched his throat, but he kept running. They zig-zagged their path to make it harder to follow them. 

They didn’t stop until Dayoung tripped headfirst over a large tree root. She quickly got up to run again, her breath ragged, but when she took a step, her leg collapsed underneath her.

“I think it’s sprained.”

From the looks of her fall, it was much worse than sprained, but Beomgyu didn’t bother correcting her. 

“It’s okay, I think we’ve gone far enough. Let me take a look at that.”

Dayoung pulled her pant leg up to let him see her ankle. Aside from some scratches, everything looked all right, which surprised him as she had fallen quite hard, but he also didn’t really know what to look for. 

“I don’t think it’s sprained. Just rest it for a while, and you should be fine,” Beomgyu said with the confidence of someone who knew far more about injuries than he actually did. 

“Do you have any water?”

Beomgyu dumped out the contents of his bag, letting everything fall to the ground. He passed the canteen to Dayoung, and she took a greedy sip. He’d worry about replacing that water later. 

“Thank you so much,” she handed it back, and Beomgyu stuffed it back into the bag.

“It was so scary, we were just eating, and we started a fire which was so stupid, and that’s how they found us and they killed him right in front of me. I’m still shaking,” she stuck out her trembling hand as proof.

Beomgyu stayed silent, unsure how to console someone who had just watched her friend die. But something about what she said seemed off to him…

“Wait, but didn’t you say that you guys were running from the Careers? And that you left him behind?”

“What?” Dayoung’s sorrow expression was wiped clean off her face. Instead, her mouth was agape, and her eyes widened. She stammered, but no words came out.

The dots connected in Beomgyu’s head. “The Careers were never after you. They didn’t kill Preston.” He didn’t need to say who did kill Preston. They both already knew. 

Beomgyu scrambled to grab his knife from his pile of stuff, but it was gone. He looked up to see it glinting in Dayoung’s hand. And then, before he could move, before he could do anything, he felt a sharp, blinding pain as Dayoung drove the knife into his abdomen. Then she ran, leaving Beomgyu alone to watch the blood seep out of him.

Chapter Text

“Taehyun, get in here, you need to see this.”

Taehyun looked up from the sketchbook he was working in. He had been tasked to come up with a new mutt, but he had hated all the drafts he had made on his desk screen, so he came into this small private room to work on it the old fashioned way, with no distractions. He grabbed his sketchbook and went back into the main Gamemaker’s room to see what he was needed for. 

Unlike when he was in the room an hour before, the room was alive with motion and excitement. They were all staring at the large screen, watching the events unfold. The tributes had finally woken up, and now things were starting to happen. Taehyun settled back into his desk again when Jefferson, his coworker, fired the first cannon of the day. On the screen was Preston, his eyes still open and wide with shock. Dayoung removed her hands from his neck and stood back, watching her prey. And then she ran like she was fleeing the scene of the crime. As if the whole country hadn’t just witnessed her guilt. 

She ran, and she ran until she ran into— Taehyun’s stomach tightened— Beomgyu. Beomgyu was holding out his knife. Taehyun prayed that he would use it. 

“You have to help me!” Dayoung cried out. The camera zoomed in as Taehyun, and all of Panem watched the suspicion ebb from Beomgyu’s face, replaced instead by a soft stare and an open mouth trying to form the right words. 

When Dayoung’s lies stopped spilling out, Beomgyu took off in a sprint. Yes, Taehyun thought, run as far away as you possibly can.  But Beomgyu was looking behind him as if looking for  Dayoung. Don’t trust her!  Taehyun wanted to shout through the screen, but he sat there, helpless, all his potential influence on the Games forgotten. For now, he was just like everyone else, a witness, nothing but a spectator to the most horrific competition. 

Beomgyu and Dayoung ran and ran and ran, and Taehyun felt like he could feel his own lungs seizing up. He looked around at his fellow Gamemakers, if only to give himself a break from watching the scene unfolding before him. Everyone else was also fixated on the screen in front of them. Not a single person was working, their projects tossed aside in favor of watching the action in real-time. Sometimes the drama of the Games did not need the Gamemakers’ interference to be captivating. 

Taehyun looked up again to see Dayoung trip over a tree root. She stood back up and promptly fell again when she put her weight on her “injured” leg. Taehyun tapped into the screen on his desk and pulled up the footage of the fall and watched it again, in slow motion. There, right there, he could see her step to the left, directly in front of the root. Then she slammed her foot right into the root. Deliberately. There could be no mistaking it. Taehyun rewound and watched the clip over and over again, and his suspicions were only confirmed.

A rustle of excitement throughout the room drew Taehyun’s attention away from his own small screen back to the large one playing in real-time. Beomgyu was screwing the cap back onto his canteen and talking to Dayoung as she recounted the day’s events. Taehyun could see the confusion on Beomgyu’s face, and he could tell the exact moment when the realization hit him. Unfortunately, Dayoung could tell too. Taehyun knew what was going to happen next, and still, he couldn’t bring himself to look away as Dayoung drove the knife into Beomgyu’s stomach. Beomgyu crumpled, his hands flying to grab the knife lodged in his abdomen. Dayoung took off running as soon as she took her hands off the knife. 

The Gamemakers’ room, which only moments ago was quiet and still as they watched it happen, was suddenly alive again. Jefferson had the cannon ready to fire, and several people were tracking Dayoung’s location in relation to the other tributes left in the arena. 

Taehyun, however, was frozen in his spot. No one seemed to notice his quivering lip or the single tear that he wiped off his cheek. Taehyun had to tear his eyes away from Beomgyu. He couldn’t stand the see his face contorted in a grimace of pain. Instead, he watched Dayoung flee. The sadness he felt in his chest morphed into something much darker. And then, as Dayoung ran away, she did something that made Taehyun snap. She laughed. She had just wounded Beomgyu— possibly fatally— and she was laughing about it. Hurting Beomgyu was like killing a butterfly; no one can harm something so good and pure without being punished. 

So Taehyun would punish her. 

He hastily pulled out the sketchbooks he was working in earlier and got to work transferring his idea into his desk computer. He was rushing, not caring that the idea wasn’t fully fleshed out or that he wasn’t paying attention to detail like he normally would. After about ten minutes of hasty typing, drawing, and programming, his creation was finished. 

He didn’t tell anyone what he was about to do. He just hoped they would forgive him for it later. After finding where Dayoung had escaped to, he swiped his muttation into the arena. 

Taehyun often had a habit of taking expressions literally, like when he wore a bucket on his head after he heard that bucket hats were all the rage. That trait of his was the inspiration for this particular mutt. His spider monkey was hulking in size, almost as big as a full-grown gorilla. And then there was the matter of the 8 limbs. They were all thick and muscular, unlike the small weak arms of an actual spider monkey. He had also given his creature 8 eyes, just to make it a bit more spidery.

All eyes in the room turned to Taehyun as his monkey’s eyes found Dayoung. Her eyes widened in an expression of genuine fear, not the kind she was faking earlier to trick Beomgyu. The creature ran at her on its 8 legs, like a spider, and pounced. Its long, sharp teeth sparkled in the sunlight. 

Taehyun did not need to stick around to watch the slaughter. He turned his back to go and knew it was done when he heard Jefferson fire the cannon.

Chapter Text

Beomgyu’s hands were covered in slick, warm blood as he clutched the knife in his abdomen. The wound had to be shallow, as the blade was short, but even as the logical part of Beomgyu’s brain explained this to him, the part that felt pain screamed at him. It drowned out all reason as his synapses fired in rapid succession. He could hear rather than feel the blood roaring in his ears as his adrenaline spiked. 

The pain in his abdomen was immeasurable. After the first immediate shock of the knife’s entry, his whole body was overcome with a warm numbness. But once that wore off, he could feel everything. Rather than one singular wound, it felt like a million little ones all targeted at the same area. Beomgyu could feel every single cell rupture and recoil at the foreign object. He tried to take long, deep breaths, but it felt more like he was gasping for air while he drowned. He could never seem to take in enough air to feel normal again. 

Deep in the back of Beomgyu’s mind, it occurred to him that he could die. He could  actually  die. The threat was always real, but it always felt like it was happening to someone else. But now, he was faced with the fact of his own mortality. What if he died right here, right now? Lying on the cold, hard, dirty forest floor, all alone, like he was nothing. Like he never mattered to anyone. Did he matter to anyone? Beomgyu’s breaths became even more labored, but this time not because of the pain. Should he just give up right now? It would be so easy, so  so  easy, to just stay very still until his body went cold.

No. That’s what they wanted him to think. That’s exactly what Yeonjun warned him about. “ They want to change who you are.”  This wasn’t the real Beomgyu.

He slowed his breath and counted all the people he mattered to. Mom. Dad. Soobin. 

Taehyun.

Taehyun?

Where did that come from?

Once upon a time, they had mattered to each other, but that time was several years and hundreds of miles away. No, he wasn’t thinking straight. The blood loss was getting to his brain. If Taehyun cared about him, he would’ve met his eyes. He wouldn’t have treated him like a stranger.

Beomgyu’s ability to think rationally returned slowly as his body adjusted to the pain. It didn’t go away, but he got used to it enough to tune it out. He turned his focus onto what to do next. He had always heard that if you got stabbed, you should leave the blade in until you get help. But help was not coming, and he needed to assess the wound, so as gently as he could, he pulled out the knife. A fresh wave of pain washed over him as the gash was exposed to the cold air. More blood spilled out, and Beomgyu used his hands to put pressure on it until the bleeding slowed. 

From what Beomgyu could see, he was in no real danger of dying from bleeding out or punctured organs. The knife had been driven into the side of his torso, a few inches under his ribs. The wound was small, smaller than the length of his index finger. Beomgyu’s main concern now was infection. With nothing to seal the injury off, it was now open to the elements. Not to mention the very knife he’d been stabbed with was still dirty from the fish he’d used it on not too long ago. The infection was likely already settling in. He needed something,  anything,  to fight off infection for just a little bit longer. 

Slowly, very carefully, Beomgyu raised himself to his feet. He swayed a bit as he stood, dizzy from the blood loss. He tried to look for plants to help him heal, but he couldn’t remember which ones were healthy and which were poisonous. He was sure he knew at one point but now… 

Each step became more labored, and he had to sit down, lay down, for just a moment, he promised himself. Just a moment, then he’d keep looking. He came across a big tree, and a gentle breeze sent red leaves fluttering down towards him. Red leaves? Weren’t these leaves green just this morning? Beomgyu tried to remember, but the task exhausted him. He laid down in a pile of the odd red leaves, covering himself up with them. He smeared blood on his face in the hopes that he’d either blend in or someone would think he was already dead. Just a moment, he thought again, just a moment to rest. And then he passed out. 

_____

Rustling leaves and footsteps woke him up. Someone was taking the leaves off of him. Beomgyu shot up straight, ignoring the pain in his side, and reached for his knife only to remember he had left it. 

“It’s just me,” someone with pink hair said. Pink hair, pink hair, he knew someone with pink hair. Ryujin! His eyes finally focused, and he could see that it was indeed her who had found his hiding spot. “You’re still really bad at camouflage. But I am impressed that you found something to put on your face, is that crushed berries?”

Beomgyu said nothing, he just watched as Ryujin worked it out.

“Is that blood? Is it yours? Are you bleeding?”

“Yes,” he croaked out.

“Let me see,” she said, and when he waved her off, she repeated, “ Let me see.”

He lifted up his shirt just enough to let her see the wound. 

“Beomgyu, what happened?”

“Dayoung, the girl from 5. If I see her again, I’m going to rip her apart.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Hate to break it to you, but I think that’s already been taken care of. I heard some screaming, and the cannon go off not too long ago. I think I have something for this.”

Ryujin picked up a small bag from the ground and lifted it to show Beomgyu. “I stole this off a Career while they were sleeping. They’d already eaten all the food in it, so I’ve been using it to hold my plants.”

“Plants?”

“Yeah, I spent all day yesterday in the meadow collecting every medicinal plant I recognized. I didn’t think I would need it, but…” She pulled out a bright yellow and orange flower. “This is calendula, it is supposed to help with wounds and fight off bacteria.” She handed the flower to Beomgyu.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“I can’t remember if you’re supposed to ingest it or apply it topically, so, um, why don’t you do both?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Beomgyu asked, but he still listened to her instructions. He ripped the flower in half, swallowing one half quickly while he gingerly pressed the other one onto his wound. He winced but continued the application. The wound looked just as ugly as it had before he applied it, but the pain was at least starting to subside. 

“I think its working, I already feel better.”

“Really? I don’t think it’s supposed to work that fast. They must have modified it to make it more powerful.”

Gingerly, Beomgyu tried to stand up. The ache was still there, but it was duller now, a more distant pain. Taking advantage of the small reprieve from the pain, Beomgyu turned to walk towards where he came from. When he staggered a little bit, Ryujin jumped to his side to help him. 

“Where are you going?”

“I dropped some supplies over there, I need to get them,” Beomgyu said weakly. 

“No, I can do it.”

“No, Ryujin, I need to see if I can do this.”

Silently, Ryujin slipped Beomgyu’s arm over her shoulder to support his weight as they walked. They scooped up Beomgyu’s supplies and walked on until they found a suitable place to set up for the night. The pain was better, but Beomgyu still wasn’t strong enough to do anything else. 

When Ryujin had double and triple checked that they were indeed alone, they settled down. Beomgyu’s coat was still wet from this morning, so Ryujin shrugged hers off and gave it to him. When he refused, she said, “Don’t be stupid, you’re shaking.”

Reluctantly, Beomgyu took the jacket. It was still warm from her body heat and helped to thaw him a little. He leaned against a big tree, not trusting himself to keep his body upright otherwise. 

“I was thinking,” Ryujin said in between bites of some mystery plant from her bag, “we need supplies. It’s too dangerous to go to the Cornucopia alone, but now that there’s two of us…”

Beomgyu shivered and pulled the jacket tighter, “Is there even anything still left in the Cornucopia?”

“I think they’ve been restocking it, you know, no chance of a bloodbath if there’s nothing to fight over. I’ve checked it a couple times, and from what I could see, there’s still plenty of stuff left.”

“Is there anyone near it?”

“Not really,” Ryujin tilted her head, as if in thought, “the Careers definitely guarding it, but they don’t sleep near it. You know how the Cornucopia is where all the sections intersect?” Beomgyu nodded, and she continued, “The weather is really unpredictable there. I don’t know if the arena can handle so many different climates in such a small area. The night I stole the bag from the Careers, they were sleeping by the Cornucopia, in the meadow, but they were all covered in frost from the winter sector.”

Beomgyu was following along until he wasn’t. “So, what does that mean?”

“It means they can’t sleep near it anymore, so if we go early in the morning, we can get in and out without them seeing us.”

Beomgyu still wasn’t sure he understood, but Ryujin seemed very convinced, and it was likely his brain wasn’t yet operating at full capacity, so he went along with it. “How do you know all this? What have you been doing for the past two days?”

“Exploring,” she grinned. “So, do you think you’re up for it? Getting supplies in the morning?”

Beomgyu winced at the thought of going all that way while he was still injured, but he agreed nonetheless.

“Great! Now get some sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”

Just as Beomgyu was on the verge of falling asleep, Panem’s Anthem pulled him back to consciousness. As Dayoung’s face flashed across the sky, Beomgyu felt a fresh wave of fear, like he was still back there, at her mercy. And when he finally did fall asleep, he still saw her face in his dreams, towering over him, brandishing the knife.

Chapter Text

Soobin wasn’t watching when it happened. He didn’t know what he was doing at the exact moment it happened. He might’ve been shaking hands with a man with an elaborately braided purple beard or trying to charm a group of women modified to look like crows, their faces unreadable under their great black beaks. 

He did, however, know exactly what he was doing when he found out. He was in the Square, the biggest outdoor gathering area in the Capitol. He had just collected a small amount of money from an older couple. It was likely they only gave him money because they pitied him, not because he convinced them of anything. 

Soobin pulled at the neckline of his shirt; it was so tight he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The Capitol clothes Yeonjun had gotten for him (from where, Soobin didn’t ask) were absolutely awful in every way. Not only were they dreadful to look at, but they were far too small. His bright mauve pants didn’t even reach his ankles. And the matching cape was equally ill-fitting and 10 times as ridiculous. He told Yeonjun there was no way he could go unnoticed in the Capitol walking around like that, but Yeonjun had insisted this way he would blend in so here he was: a tight grape. 

He looked around for Yeonjun and found that the other was already looking at him. Yeonjun flashed a smile, and Soobin looked away quickly, reverting his attention back to the crowd. That’s when the whispers started. Snatches of words and sentences that slowly told the story.

“Stabbed.”

“Bleeding out.”

“Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu. 

Soobin’s head immediately snapped up to the big screen playing the Games in the Square. At the sight of Beomgyu laying down, pain etched on his face, Soobin’s first instinct was to scream. He didn’t, of course, he couldn’t, not here with all these people. These stupid, useless people. They weren’t even watching Beomgyu. They were all too busy looking at something else. It took him a moment to realize what they were all looking at:  him.  It was then he noticed the hot tears rolling down his face. He wiped them away, but they just kept coming, and the stares persisted. 

“Come on, come on,” Yeonjun grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the crowd. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Yeonjun took him a couple streets away, where no prying eyes could see them. 

The tears were still flowing, hot and angry. 

“We have to do something, we have to send him something,” Soobin started pulling at his hair.

“We don’t have enough money yet,” Yeonjun said calmly.

Soobin exploded, his pent up emotions spilling out all at once. “This is all your fault! You left him! If you were here, you could’ve made enough money to do something!”

Yeonjun’s voice rose just slightly. “If I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t even be here!”

“Who cares about me? None of this matters if he doesn’t make it!”

“You want to do something? Go out there and get the money he needs! Yelling at me won’t do anything but waste all of our time. Besides, I’m helping him more than you are, you don’t even know how to talk to these people!”

Soobin physically recoiled. 

“Wait, Soobin- I didn’t mean it like-”

But he was already walking away. The words stung because they were true. For all his talk about wanting to help Beomgyu, he was doing a lousy job of it. The money from the older couple was all he had earned today. That wouldn’t be enough to get Beomgyu a loaf of bread, let alone whatever medicine he would need now. He was absolutely awful at this. He never knew what to say, and when he did, he tripped over his words. Beomgyu had done everything to make these people love him, and here Soobin was, ruining all those efforts.

Soobin sucked in a deep breath and wiped away his last tear. With his confidence even lower than it was before, he dove back into the crowd. He tried approaching several people, but they all walked away when he drew near. Sighing, his eyes wandered back to the screen. Beomgyu was sitting up, examining his wound. Soobin stopped and stared as he watched Beomgyu pull the knife out of his side. The crowd gave a collective wince— they were all watching too. They looked on as Beomgyu fought the pain, stood up, and walked around. Then the cameras switched to the Careers as they sat in a circle, defending their territory.

The moment was over, the crowd’s attention lost, but Soobin was more determined than ever. What he said earlier was right, this wasn’t about him, this was always about Beomgyu. And he was not going to let his own fears and insecurities endanger his brother.

This time, when he approached a group of people, he wouldn’t let them walk away. They were an odd-looking bunch, and Soobin wasn’t sure where to look, but he settled on the man in the middle, with feathers sprouting out of his back like a peacock. 

“Would you like to sponsor Choi Beomgyu?”

“Which one is that again?” Peacock man responded.

Soobin swallowed his anger and continued, “From District 7.” When no recognition flashed in the peacock’s eyes, he tried again, “The one who likes the cake here.”

“Oh, that one!” a short woman with spiky green hair said. “I like that one, he seems nice.”

“Well, he really needs your sponsorship right now. He needs medicine to treat a stab wound.”

“A stab wound?” Peacock man asked. “Why should I sponsor him if he’s just going to die?”

The woman smacked his arm with a giggle, “Walter! Don’t say that!”

“I-I.” Soobin paused and restarted. “I understand the concern, but if you sponsor him, and he gets the medicine he needs, he has a chance to win.” 

Walter still looked unconvinced, so Soobin turned his attention to the rest of the group, hoping they didn’t all share their friend’s mentality. “Think about it, if he can survive this, he can, um, probably survive all sorts of things so…” Soobin struggled to pick out what exactly to say. “And he scored an 8! You haven’t even seen enough of him to see why he scored that high. Don’t you want to keep him around and see what he can do?”

Soobin flashed them an uneasy grin. His argument was flimsy at best, and he was sure they could see right through him. But, to his surprise, several people were digging through their bags. Walter continued to stand still and stone-faced, but his friends, mostly the women, were handing Soobin little bundles of cash. Soobin was shocked at how loose these people were with their money, but took it all nonetheless. 

Over the course of one conversation, he had made 6 times the amount he’d made in that one transaction earlier. He could do this, he could  actually  do this.

“Thank you, this will go to great use. Please continue to support Choi Beomgyu!” This time, Soobin’s smile was genuine as he moved on to the next group of people.

_____

The day had been long, and when Soobin returned to his room, he practically collapsed on the bed. He was staying in the guest room of Yeonjun’s mentor suite. When his head hit the silk pillow, he fell asleep almost instantly.

He woke to screams.

They weren’t coming from him, at least he didn’t think they were. He listened, and they came again. They were loud like they were coming from somewhere close. Soobin pulled off his covers and slowly opened the door. He followed the sound right to Yeonjun’s room. 

Soobin paused outside the door. Should he go in? He and Yeonjun hadn’t talked again since their fight earlier. Would Yeonjun even want to see him? None of these thoughts mattered once Yeonjun screamed again. A terrified, strangled cry. Soobin forgot his worries and burst into the room.

Yeonjun was fast asleep in the middle of his bed. The room was dark, but Soobin could just barely see the contorted look on his face.

“Yeonjun,” he whispered. Nothing happened. “Yeonjun,” he tried, louder this time. Again, nothing.

As gently as he could, Soobin shook Yeonjun’s shoulders.

Yeonjun woke with a start. He looked around, confused. When he saw Soobin, he said, “Soobin, what are you doing here? Is it Beomgyu? Is everything all right?”

“You were screaming.”

“I- what?”

“You were screaming in your sleep.”

“Oh, um, sorry for waking you. I have these dreams sometimes. About the Games.”

“Don’t apologize.” Soobin inched just the slightest bit closer. “Do you, um, do you want to talk about it?”

Even in the dark, Soobin could see something flicker in Yeonjun’s eyes. “No, not really.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” Soobin was about to leave, but he had something more to say. “About earlier, I’m sorry about what I said. I was angry, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s not your fault, I know you care about him, I just, I needed someone to blame, and you were right there.” Soobin was thankful for the dark; he didn’t have to meet Yeonjun’s eyes as he spoke. 

“Thank you. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I know this whole world is new to you, and you’re doing better than most people in your place would. I really admire everything you’re doing for Beomgyu. He’s lucky to have someone like you care about him so much.”

“Thank you,” Soobin mumbled and turned to leave.

“Soobin, wait,” Yeonjun now sounded very small. “Could you stay? Just for a little bit. Having someone helps with the dreams.”

Soobin’s mouth was suddenly very dry. “Of course.”

He padded over to the bed and climbed in as Yeonjun moved over to make room. He got under the covers, aiming to keep a respectable distance between the two of them. But as soon as he laid down, Yeonjun settled his head directly on his chest. The shock momentarily froze Soobin, but then slowly, gently, he ran his fingers through Yeonjun’s messy blue hair, something Soobin’s mother had always done when he was still little enough to crawl into his parents’ bed after a nightmare. Yeonjun’s soft snores lulled him into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

It was still dark when Ryujin shook him awake. It was the soft, welcoming, darkness of the morning sky just before the sunrise. 

“Beomgyu, wake up,” she whispered.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he mumbled. It was barely true. His brain was still teetering on the edge of consciousness. It took him a few moments to really remember where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. “Is it my turn to take watch?”

“No, I decided to let you sleep more.”

“Ryujin, you shouldn’t have done that, I can handle myself.”

“You do not want to argue with me right now, I’m tired and cranky. Now come on, let’s go.”

Ryujin packed up what little supplies they had while Beomgyu took the time to examine his wound. He couldn’t say it looked any better than it did yesterday, but at least it didn’t look worse. 

“They probably have bandages and antiseptic at the Cornucopia too, then we can really patch that up,” said Ryujin. 

They set off within a few minutes. Ryujin, being more familiar with the Arena, led the way. 

The medicinal plant from the day before must have worn off because Beomgyu felt the pain with every step. It wasn’t too much that he couldn’t manage it, but every time the terrain became rockier, Beomgyu clutched at his side.

“So,” he whispered, “did anything happen last night?”

“The cannon went off once. I didn’t see who it was, though.”

“Any chance it was one of the Careers?” Beomgyu asked hopefully.

“I doubt it. When they finally turn on each other, they’ll all go at once.”

“I wish they would do that already,” Beomgyu said. 

“Yeah, me too.”

“Isn’t it sick? That we’re wishing for other people, other  kids  to die?”

Ryujin kicked at a stick on the ground. “I try not to think about it too much. It’s easy for me to handle if I just think about my own survival, but when I think about what my survival means for everyone else…”

“Yeah, I get it. If I win, I’m never watching The Games again.”

“Be careful, they can hear you.”

“Oh yeah? What can they do to me that they haven’t already done?”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Ryujin suggested. They had finally come out of the thicker part of the forest. Here the trees were further apart, and the leaves were green and gold, not the red that Beomgyu had hidden in yesterday.

Beomgyu remembered he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell Ryujin about Taehyun.

“I saw him the other day.”

“Who?”

“Him.” Beomgyu willed her to remember their conversation in the training room a few days ago. God, was it really only a few days ago? “I saw him just before we got here.”

“Beomgyu, really, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I can’t say his name. They’re listening. Remember when we talked about that valentine? And who it was for?”

The realization dawned on her. “Oh! You saw him? Where?”

“Here.”

“Here, like  here  here?”

“Not here like  in  here but like, on the way here.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I think I would recognize him anywhere.”

“Did he recognize you?”

“I think so,” Beomgyu thought back to their single interaction. “But he didn’t act like it.”

“Well, that’s um, interesting? Do you have any idea why he’s here?”

“No. It’s been really bothering me. The person I knew would never have associated himself with any of this,” he waved a hand around, indicating both the Arena and the Games.

“It’s weird. Two people separated for years only to be brought back together when they least expect it. It would almost sound romantic if it weren’t for-”

“All the murder?” Beomgyu finished for her.

“Yeah, that,” she said somberly.

Silence fell between them again, and this time Beomgyu was not eager to fill it. It was still early in the morning, and the slightest bit of sunlight was filtering through the trees. 

“I think we’re almost there,” Ryujin told him.

Sure enough, through a break in the trees, they could see the Cornucopia sitting at the intersection of all the different climates. 

“I don’t see anyone,” Beomgyu noted.

“They’re that way,” Ryujin pointed towards the meadow. “They moved deeper into that section after the first night.”

“How didn’t they see you?”

“I’m small, plus there’s a patch of pink flowers that my hair blends into. Makes for great cover. And they don’t spend much time there during the day. That’s when they guard.”

As they crept closer to the Cornucopia, moving as quietly as possible, Beomgyu could see several lumps in the far distance of the meadow where the Careers were sleeping. 

They snuck into the Cornucopia with no difficulty. It was a large metal structure shaped like its namesake. The mouth was wide like a cave and big enough for them to step inside. Its contents seemed to gleam as Beomgyu looked around in awe. Everything that he could have possibly needed was here. 

First, he grabbed an axe. It looked sleek with its metal handle and steel blade. Beomgyu instantly felt safer with it in his hands. He picked up a belt with all sorts of loops and pockets and placed a second, smaller axe in one of the loops before securing it around his waist. He looked over to see Ryujin had acquired several throwing knives and was now discarding her small bag for a much larger one. Beomgyu took his own bag and stuffed whatever he could into it. He took every packet of dried fruit he found, as well as what looked like a water purifier.

He walked deeper into the Cornucopia, sifting through every item. He would have loved to take one of everything, but he could only carry so much and had to focus on what he really needed. 

“Beomgyu!” Ryujin called him over. “I got some stuff for you.” She was holding up gauze, bandages, and antiseptic. “Come here, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Beomgyu walked over, sat down, and lifted his shirt to give her access to the wound.

“This is going to sting a little,” she warned before dabbing a wet gauze pad on his skin.

“A little” was an understatement. Beomgyu bit down so hard on his lip to keep from screaming that he tasted blood. After what felt like hours of pure torture, Ryujin replaced the wet pad with a clean, dry one and taped it up with bandages.

“There,” she said, stuffing the leftover supplies into her now full bag, “that should keep it from getting infected.”  If it isn’t already,  Beomgyu thought.

They were up and making their way out of the Cornucopia when they heard voices. Beomgyu’s body seized up for a moment. He couldn’t move or breathe or think. Ryujin ducked behind a large crate of weapons, and Beomgyu followed her lead. They sat very still, listening for the voices again. 

“We should go hunting today,” chirped a high female voice.

“No,” a harsh deep voice responded. “We don’t have to, they’ll come to us.”

“You keep saying that, but it never happens. I’m getting bored. I haven’t even gotten a chance to use my new arrows yet,” the high voice whined.

The voices were getting closer; they had stayed in the Cornucopia too long, and now the sun had fully risen. And so had the Careers. 

Luckily, it sounded as though they were oblivious to the fact that they were not alone. Beomgyu gripped his axe firmly, but he wouldn’t need to use it as long as they stayed quiet and very, very still.

The voices were now accompanied by the sound of footsteps on hard ground.

“Guys, wait,” a new voice called.

“What is it, Jupiter?”

“Someone’s here, I can smell them.”

Beomgyu remembered the first time he had seen Jupiter in training and his shock at seeing that his hands ended in claws rather than nails. He must have had his sense of smell modified as well.

“Where?”

Beomgyu’s pulse quickened — 

“In there.”

— and then nearly stopped altogether.

The voices and footsteps were now very close.

“If we go now, we might be able to get out before they find us,” Ryujin whispered.

They went to make a run for it and found the opening to the Cornucopia blocked. The four Careers, Cherry, Jupiter, Pixie, and Summit, were looking right at them. 

No one moved. Pixie let out a high-pitched gleeful laugh as panic rose in Beomgyu.

Chaos broke out when Ryujin threw her knife, and it landed squarely in the middle of Pixie’s chest. While she was still laughing.

As the Careers stared at Pixie’s body in shock, Beomgyu and Ryujin ran past them, out of the Cornucopia and into the open. They didn’t make it far before the Careers rounded on them again. Cherry approached Ryujin, her sword out and swinging, while both Summit and Jupiter made their way towards Beomgyu.

Beomgyu could hear his blood pumping as he took the first swing, aiming for Summit’s arm. He made contact but only barely, and Summit was completely unfazed as he got closer to Beomgyu. He raised his arm, which held a long thin dagger, and Beomgyu swung again, this time trying to knock the blade out of his hand. He succeeded, but his victory was short as Jupiter, who didn’t need a weapon, lashed out with his claws. He swiped at Beomgyu’s shoulder and tore through his coat and shirt all the way to the skin. Beomgyu’s mind didn’t have time to register the pain because Jupiter was already swinging again. This time he blocked his claws with the end of his axe. He slammed the end of the axe into Jupiter’s stomach and knocked him down. But now Summit was back, having retrieved his weapon once again. He aimed his blade for Beomgyu’s heart, but Beomgyu ducked. He hit Summit in the shin with his axe and hopped up, ready to run.

He chanced a glance over at Ryujin, who seemed to be holding her own against Cherry, but he could see a large gash over her right eye.

He ran over to help Ryujin but was pulled backward by Jupiter, his claws digging into his skin. Both he and Summit were up again. Summit, Beomgyu was proud to see, was now limping. But still even injured, these were two lethal killers. There was no way he could take both of them on by himself and come out alive.

Beomgyu ducked and dodged and swung and slammed, but the fight seemed no nearer to ending. His body was fatigued, the adrenaline slowly sapping out of him, and though his opponents were feeling it too, they still outnumbered him. 

Summit had just taken hold of Beomgyu when a deafening scream caught their attention. They looked over at the girls. Cherry was writhing around on the ground, screaming, and Ryujin was on top, pinning her down. Ryujin was holding her knife to Cherry’s throat, but her hand was shaking violently.

Beomgyu remembered one of the first things Ryujin had ever said to him.

“ When it comes down to it, I don’t think I could kill anyone.”

Yes, she had just killed Pixie, but that was fast, instinctual, rooted purely in her body’s desire to save itself. But now that she was about to really do it, watch the life leave someone’s eyes, she was hesitating.

But Jupiter couldn’t see that.

“You bitch!”

Beomgyu watched in horror as Jupiter ripped Ryujin off of Cherry and threw her to the ground. He made several slashes in her stomach and raked his claws across her torso, creating 5 deep, jagged cuts from her shoulder to her hip.

Beomgyu wrenched himself out of Summit’s grip and crashed into Jupiter with the full force of his body, knocking him off Ryujin. A dangerous cocktail of anger and adrenaline coursed through him. He stood over Jupiter and swung down hard. Blood spewed up at him as he made contact. He didn’t care. He swung again and again. He swung so hard he felt the wound in his side flare up again, but still, he didn’t care. Jupiter’s body was limp, with fresh cuts all over, but somehow he was still breathing. Beomgyu bashed his head in with the blunt end of the axe and, at last, heard the tell-tale boom of the cannon.

Beomgyu looked up and made direct eye contact with Summit. Summit took one look at Beomgyu, covered in blood and fresh off the brutal kill of Summit’s closest ally, and ran for it, quickly snatching up Cherry’s injured body as he left.

Beomgyu collapsed, finally defeated. He crawled over to Ryujin. She was still breathing. But it wouldn’t be for long. Her stomach was reduced to shreds, and the cut across her torso was so deep Beomgyu could see her collar bone.

“Beomgyu,” her voice was ragged, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. We’re both fine, all right, we’re going to make it, you hear me?”

“I’m dying, not stupid,” she chuckled softly, but Beomgyu could tell every word was an effort. “Do you remember that favor you owe me?”

Beomgyu was taken aback. He had thought she’d forgotten about their long-ago deal: a favor in exchange for a valentine with a fairy on it.

“Yes, of course, I’ll do anything you want.”

“Kill me.”

“What?”

“You said you would do it. Please, Beomgyu, I don’t want to suffer. I want it to be quick.”

Beomgyu picked up the knife that she had dropped in the fight.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. And can you cover up my body? I don’t want my family to see me like this.” 

“Of course.”

“I hope you win.”

“Ryujin, thank you for being my friend.”

“Ew, don’t be sappy, you’re gonna make me cry,” she said, even though tears had already collected at the bottom of her eyes.

“Sorry.”

She closed her eyes.“Okay, I’m ready.”

As quickly and gently as he could, Beomgyu picked up the knife and slit her throat. The cannon sounded. Their deal was finally fulfilled.

Beomgyu laid his jacket— the jacket that had once been hers— over her wounds. Now she looked peaceful, almost content. 

He refused to let this trip, her death, be in vain. He scooped up both his and her bags and slung them over his shoulder. 

He didn’t let himself cry until he reached safety. He found a tree with a large hole at the base, climbed in, and wept. 

He wept for the girl he wished he’d known better, who was always so bright and lively. He wept for the child she had once been, and the beautiful person she’d grown up to be. He wept for the death of her innocence, and the death of his too. He wept for her family, who would never be whole again. He wept for their deal, and the cruel, twisted end to their story together. But most importantly, he wept for the loss of a friend.

Chapter Text

Soobin was the first to wake up after a big rumble of thunder boomed nearby. Yeonjun was still snoring softly, so Soobin gently slid his head off his chest and climbed out of bed. He was pleased to see that he had slept through the whole night this time, with no screams to disturb him.

He quickly used the bathroom and brushed his teeth before splashing cold water on his face. He needed to be fully awake to process the fact that he had just shared a bed with Choi Yeonjun. And that Choi Yeonjun screams in his sleep. He had a lot to process, so he kept splashing himself with more water, in hopes that would help. 

Soobin settled onto the plush couch in the living room and ran his hands through his hair. What was he supposed to say to Yeonjun when he woke up? There wasn’t exactly a guide on what to say the morning after you walk in on a stranger screaming in their sleep. Should he even bring it up? Yeonjun didn’t seem too keen to talk last night, what if Soobin brought it up and they fought again? But for some reason, Soobin couldn’t seem to let it go, not with all these questions nagging him.

And the loudest question of all: would this become a regular thing? Would he wake up every night to screams? Or would Soobin forgo his own bed altogether? He had to admit, it was comforting, not being alone. Soobin struggled with his own nightmares, and the reassuring weight of Yeonjun’s head on his chest kept them at bay. 

No, it was still far too early to process all of this. He needed to go back to sleep, back to that wondrous place where he could dissolve into a world completely free of blue-haired boys. 

He flicked on the TV. He would tune in to the Games for a couple minutes, make sure that Beomgyu was okay, and then he could go back to sleep. The couch was getting more and more comfortable, and his eyelids were growing heavy again…

“Yes, we have much to discuss,” Caesar Flickerman’s voice was high and excited. “What are your thoughts on the morning’s events?”

A woman Soobin did not recognize sat next to Caesar, “Well, it’s always encouraging to see this much action happen organically. 3 gone before my morning coffee! I must say, thus far these Games have been disappointing, I was beginning to think the Gamemakers had lost their touch. I mean, did you see that horrific monkey yesterday? I don’t know what that was about. But boy did they give us a show today.”

3 gone. 3 dead. Beomgyu.

“What was your favorite part?” Caesar asked.

“Well, it has to be Jupiter’s death, right? Everything about it was the perfect amount of terrifying. You could really feel the emotion and the anger in the air. And the look Beomgyu gave Summit after he was finished with Jupiter? I’m getting chills just thinking about it.”

Soobin was no longer tired. He didn’t know if he would ever sleep again. What had happened? Was Beomgyu okay? Was this lady implying that Beomgyu had  killed  someone?

“Yes, yes, of course, that was great. It’s rare to see two Careers to fall at the same time, especially to two tributes from one of the outer districts, but I do love a good underdog story.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me at all, Caesar? I must say, I was not paying much attention to this Beomgyu, but I’ll definitely be rooting for him after this.”

Soobin let out a long breath. Beomgyu was okay, he was still alive. But then, who was the third death?

“So, what was  your  favorite part?” The woman asked.

“Oh, for me, it was when Ryujin asked Beomgyu to kill her. It was just such a touching moment, I actually started crying.” Caesar threw his head back in a cackle. “I’m not kidding! Ask Marco, he had to redo my makeup.”

“You’ve always been too sentimental for your own good.”

“Guilty as charged. Can we replay that clip? Don’t worry, I’ll try not to cry this time! No promises!”

Soobin couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, despite how much he did not want to see this. The camera zoomed in so close that Beomgyu and Ryujin’s faces took up the whole screen. Both of their faces were spattered with dirt, and the ends of Ryujin’s pink hair were matted with blood. Beomgyu knelt over Ryujin, who was clearly in a lot of pain. Thankfully they were so zoomed in Soobin couldn’t see any of her injuries. He didn’t think he could stomach it.

“Kill me,” Ryujin requested.

“What?” Soobin and Beomgyu said at the same time. 

It was one thing to hear Caesar talk about what happened, but it was another thing entirely to watch it play out. 

Soobin was frozen to the spot as Beomgyu thanked Ryujin for being his friend and ended her suffering. 

Soobin hadn’t known Ryujin as well as he would’ve liked to, but he knew her death was a terrible loss for the world. A pang of sorrow hit Soobin as he thought of Ryujin’s mother, who had been so welcoming to him. And Ryujin’s little brother, who was climbing all over Soobin mere days ago. What would he think when he heard the news? Would he even understand?

And Beomgyu. The clip cut away quickly, but Soobin could still see his lips quivering. Soobin couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must be feeling right now. In a short time, Beomgyu had grown to care for Ryujin so much that he killed for her. Soobin’s skin started to crawl when he remembered that not 10 minutes ago, his biggest concern was what he would say to Yeonjun when he woke up. It was funny, in a sick, demented way, how fast things changed.

Caesar started again, “For those of you just joining us this morning, 3 tributes died in a battle at the Cornucopia. The fallen Tributes include two Careers: Pixie from 2 and Jupiter from 1. The third was Ryujin from 7. Beomgyu, also from 7, was responsible for those last 2.”

A small cough startled Soobin out of his thoughts. It came from Yeonjun, who was now standing in the living room, wrapping his arms around himself.

“How much did you hear?” Soobin asked, forcing his voice to sound stronger than he felt.

“Enough.” His voice sounded as small as he looked.

“How are you?”

Yeonjun plastered on a smile, “I’m okay, its just part of the job, right?”

“You don’t believe that, and I know it. How are you, really?”

Yeonjun sighed, his body weary with exhaustion despite his long, peaceful slumber. Well, that is, after all the screaming. Soobin wondered how long it had been since Yeonjun had a full night of sleep.

“She was too good for all of this. They all are, but her especially. I always knew this was going to happen, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Once again, there was more to his feelings than what Yeonjun let on, but Soobin didn’t know how to unlock the door between them.

“Beomgyu, will he be okay?” 

They both heard the hidden question.  Are you okay?

Yeonjun joined Soobin on the couch as Soobin shut off the TV. He’d seen enough.

“There’s this feeling,” Yeonjun said softly, “after the first time you kill someone. It’s like this all-consuming dread. It’s all you can think about. Nothing good you ever did in your life matters because you’ve now done this horrible thing. How can your life possibly go on? How, when all you think about every waking moment is what you did. That feeling lasts for a long time.”

Soobin simply stared at Yeonjun, too scared of breaking the moment or causing Yeonjun to shut down again to do anything else. Yeonjun was hunched over, his head in his hands, pointedly avoiding all eye contact with Soobin.

“And then, I’m not sure how to explain it. It gets easier? But it also doesn’t. You get used to the thought of it, and you have other things to worry about, so it doesn’t come to mind as often. But when you do think about it, it’s just as hard. That part  never  changes.

“And the worst part is how alone you feel. No one else understands. People in the Capitol don’t want to hear about something so sad at their big parties, and people at home think all your problems are solved by the fame and the money.” 

It sounded like Yeonjun had been waiting a very long time to say this to someone.

“But Beomgyu’s strong. He’ll get through it.”

Soobin had almost completely forgotten they were talking about Beomgyu.

“Yeonjun…” Soobin paused. What could he possibly say? Yeonjun was right, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t possibly know what Yeonjun had gone through, what Beomgyu was going through now. “I’m sorry” felt too small and was likely what everyone always said to him. But Soobin didn’t want to be like everyone else. Inexplicably, he wanted to be the one Yeonjun confided in, the one to makes things better in whatever small way he could. 

“Yeonjun,” he started again. “I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to, you know that, right?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Yeonjun’s voice was thick like there were tears lodged in his throat. 

Soobin was forming his response when there was another loud crack of thunder. Yeonjun jumped so severely at the sound that Soobin remembered all those big explosions from the Games last year. Did Yeonjun hear them every time it stormed? 

Soobin got up and looked out the window. Sure enough, wind whipped against the window as rain poured angrily from thick gray cumulonimbus clouds. A few blocks away, a massive strike of lightning blazed across the sky. Soobin shut the curtains and retreated to his room, coming out a few moments later with blankets in hand. He tossed one to Yeonjun.

“What is this?”

“We can’t go anywhere for a while, we might as well be comfortable.” Soobin wrapped himself in his own blanket and slumped back onto the couch. 

“We need to-”

“It’s storming, no one will be out today anyways. We can make some calls later to get him some medicine.” This was not a happy thought, as they could only afford it because all of Ryujin’s sponsorship money was now Beomgyu’s.

“Okay,” Yeonjun said weakly.

Soobin still worried for Beomgyu, and how he would recover from this. He still ached for Ryujin and the people she left behind. But right now, he wanted to do all he could to make Yeonjun feel better. He had gone far too long without anyone caring for him that way. 

_____

Huening Kai’s shrill laugh echoed throughout the room. After a long, terrible day at work, a sleepover at his best friend’s house was exactly what Taehyun needed. It helped that his house was equipped with its own movie theater.

After his stunt with the spider monkey the day before, Taehyun’s supervisor was predictably not pleased with him. 

“Taehyun, I know you’re used to being at the top of your class, but here, you listen to me. You are not to send anything into the Arena without permission ever again. Are we clear?” 

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I’m in a lot of hot water right now, Taehyun. The public is confused and horrified, and I’m even getting calls from the President’s office. You eliminated one of the most promising tributes with an untested, unapproved Muttation for absolutely no reason. You’re lucky I’m not firing you.”

“You’re not?” Taehyun asked in disbelief. 

“No, but if you ever pull something like that again, I won’t hesitate. I think a couple days on weather and cannon duty should do the trick. Jefferson will be taking over your usual job in the meantime.”

Taehyun had to hide his scowl. Jefferson could never do the job half as well as he did. Instead, he just nodded in understanding, not opening his mouth in fear of saying something that would land him in even hotter water.

“Weather duty? That sounds fun!” Kai had exclaimed when Taehyun relayed all of this to him.

It was not fun. It was incredibly dull work. All he did was monitor the temperatures in the Arena and make sure everything was in order. And after the big showdown at the Cornucopia this morning, all the tributes were in hiding, so there were no cannons to fire. The highlight of his day was when he created a small circle around Beomgyu so he would be unaffected by the rain. He had enough going on without being soaking wet.

But now he was unwinding with some much needed time with Kai, whom he had been too busy to see since the Games started. They were watching Kai’s favorite movie, the animated classic , Shrek , for what had to be the millionth time.

“The animation is really not that good,” Taehyun pointed out.

“Taehyun, this movie was made hundreds of years ago; of course, it’s not as good as what we have now. But this was ground-breaking at the time,” Kai said.

“Since when are you a film nerd?”

“I’m not, I’m a  Shrek  nerd,” Kai puffed his chest proudly.

“Please don’t ever say that again.”

Taehyun settled into the familiarity of the movie. He almost had the whole thing memorized, though not as well as Kai, who was silently mouthing the words as the characters said them. 

His mind started to wander as the movie played a romantic montage. It wandered all the way back to his time in District 7.

One particular day stuck out to him. It must have been the tail end of winter because the ground was still covered in frost, but the lumber yards were opening up again after a long offseason. Taehyun had insisted on riding his bike to school, even though his mother warned him that it would be too cold. He had recently turned 9, and he thought that earned him the right to disobey his mother. But she was right, as always, and after a few minutes of riding, he couldn’t take the icy wind whipping at his face. He hopped off his bike and intended to walk alongside it the rest of the way home. The sound of little feet running behind him stopped him in his tracks.

He turned around to see Choi Beomgyu running towards him, his cheeks bright pink from the effort and the cold. 

“Taehyun!” Beomgyu called when he saw him. He reached Taehyun and breathed out incomprehensibly, “Bike… you… too fast.”

“What?”

Beomgyu took a few moments to catch his breath and repeated, “I wanted to see you, but your bike was too fast.” Beomgyu’s voice was high and squeaky, nothing like the low, deep voice he would eventually grow into.

“Why did you want to see me?”

Beomgyu swiped his hair out of his eyes. It had grown longer over the winter, and his bangs always hung over his face.“To give you this,” he handed a valentine to Taehyun.

“But we’re not in the same class.” Beomgyu and his older brother, Soobin, were a year ahead of Taehyun in school. “And I don’t have one for you.” Taehyun pulled off his backpack and searched for any extra valentines he might have, but he had given them all away in class earlier.

“I know,” Beomgyu said, his lips pulled together in a proud smile. “It’s special, just for you.”

“Thank you,” Taehyun grinned, then hastily tried to cover up his mouth as he remembered the gap where his last baby tooth had fallen out only a few days earlier. Tooth gaps were not a part of his cool new 9-year-old image. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you one,” Taehyun chastised himself for not thinking of getting a valentine for his dearest friend.

“It’s okay,” Beomgyu giggled, and it really was okay. “Now listen, don’t open it until you get home.”

“Why not?”

Beomgyu’s already pink cheeks flushed even more, “It’s embarrassing.”

They parted in a fit of laughter, and Taehyun raced home on his bike, suddenly not caring about the cold wind. When he made it home, he ripped open the envelope to see a hand-drawn cartoon fairy looking back at him, along with cramped, messy handwriting that said,  I know you don’t like the gap in your teeth, but I think it’s cute. 

Immediately, Taehyun tucked it away in the bottom of a drawer, safe from prying eyes, but easily accessible for whenever he wanted to look at it again. From then on, when Taehyun smiled, he didn’t feel the need to cover his mouth.

“The  Shrek  OST is unmatched,” Huening Kai said, pulling Taehyun out of his memories.

“Excuse me, what?” Taehyun said in disbelief.

Huening Kai babbled on and on about the genius of the soundtrack and then shushed Taehyun when his favorite part came on even though the latter wasn’t even speaking. Naturally, as soon as the final credit scrolled across the screen, Kai was asleep and wheezing faintly as he dreamed. 

Sleep did not come as easy for Taehyun, who was haunted by his memories. All those happy memories, toothy grins, and fairy valentines now felt tainted. They felt like they belonged to someone better than Taehyun. Someone who wouldn’t just stand by as the subject of those lovely memories battled for his life.

He’d grown complacent, complicit even, in Beomgyu’s destruction. And for what? A job that had just demoted him? He didn’t even need that job anyway. Certainly, someone as skilled with technology as him could find work elsewhere.

But he did need to keep his job. Just for a few weeks. Just until he used his position to help Beomgyu win the Hunger Games and make it out alive. If only there was some way to talk to him, let him know someone was helping from the outside... 

Chapter Text

The rain had been relentless, and yet, Beomgyu was not wet. No matter how he moved, where he went, the rain did not touch him. Normally, this odd occurrence would occupy all of Beomgyu’s thoughts, but now it barely even registered. 

He had sat in the hole in that tree for hours, crying so much he had become dehydrated. He stuck his canteen out to catch some rainwater, and that’s when he noticed the strange anomaly. He stretched his arm as far away from him as he could, and he still could not reach the water. It was only when he propped the canteen upon a rock and retreated back to his tree that it finally filled up. Rather than piquing his curiosity, this just frustrated him. Were they toying with him? Hadn’t he been through enough? 

This momentary distraction did little to keep his real thoughts at bay. The dark ones that lurked in the back of his mind. 

You’re a monster , the thoughts spat at him.  Just like us.

These thoughts had teeth, long and sharp, and they turned up into a twisted smile. You see, they delighted in destroying Beomgyu, in bringing him down to their level. If Beomgyu looked long enough, he could see the faces these thoughts took on. They turned into flashes of President Snow, Caesar Flickerman, nameless faces gawking down on him at the Tribute Parade. 

You’re playing our game,  Snow said in a low whisper,  and I must say, you’re quite good. Are you sure you’re not enjoying it?

Beomgyu shook his head and pulled his legs tighter to him. He rocked back and forth, counting to 10 and closing his eyes. But when he opened his eyes again, his mind was not empty like he’d hoped it would be. 

A second, new group of thoughts had entered. These were softer, with rounded edges where the others were jagged. These took on the familiar faces of Soobin, Yeonjun. Ryujin.

They want to change you, don’t let them,  Yeonjun instructed.

When the thought shaped like Ryujin spoke, Beomgyu fell apart all over again.  You helped me. You are not a monster.  

Beomgyu drank his water and ate some of the dried fruit he had collected from the Cornucopia, but he was just going through the motions. He could do nothing for the rest of the day but watch the battle raging on in his head and wish for it all to end. 

Mercifully, sleep came, and for a few hours, he drifted away from the wreckage of his life.

There was a short, blissful moment just after he woke right before he remembered yesterday’s events. He air he breathed in was sweet, and he swore birds were chirping in the distance. But then, the memories came back, and the sweet air and birdsong turned sour, tainted.

Just like yesterday, Beomgyu was only distantly aware of the world around him. It was like he was wrapped in this bubble designed to protect him, but instead, he felt trapped and suffocated by the weight of his own guilt. Even the beeping of the parachute floating down towards his tree couldn’t break him out of his trance.

Wait. A parachute?

Beomgyu scrambled out of his tree in time to see the little silver parachute land on the ground before him. He looked around for others, but there was no mistaking it, this parachute was for him. Hanging off of the parachute was a small rectangular box. He picked it up and tore it open. Inside the box was a scrap of paper on top of a circular container. 

The note read:

Hang in there- YJ.

As soon as Beomgyu unscrewed the lid, he knew what it’s contents were. It was a white buttery salve designed to treat wounds.

Beomgyu lifted his shirt and removed the bandages, and gauze Ryujin had placed there yesterday. Pus oozed from the wound, and it still hurt, but in the chaos of everything, Beomgyu had barely registered the pain. He dunked his fingers into the salve and applied a large dollop to his wound. It worked slowly, but he knew that by tomorrow his wound would be a mere scar. He tucked the medicine away in one of his bags just in case he found himself in need later.

Wavering on the edge of consciousness, he settled back into his hole to give his body more of the rest it needed. He held his axe close to his chest like a treasured toy as his eyes fluttered open and close, trying to fight off the urge to sleep. It’s no wonder why when the gold letters appeared, Beomgyu thought they were just a product of his imagination.

He had to blink several times to confirm that yes, those words emblazoned on the inside of the tree he was hiding in were in fact real. 

I’m here to help you,  they read.

Beomgyu shook his head. He knew the Capitol would try to mess with him, but were they really this cruel? But then, more words appeared. They seemed to be a signature of sorts.

- Tooth Gap

Those words struck a chord deep within Beomgyu, and he immediately knew who sent that message.

Taehyun. 

He didn’t have the time or energy to wonder how Taehyun had managed to etch words into his tree. He was just grateful to not be alone.

“Hello?” Beomgyu called out, feeling foolish.

New words appeared, taking the place of the initial phrase. 

Hey,  the words replied. Beomgyu could almost hear Taehyun’s voice saying it in his low, breathless voice.

The next few sentences came is quick succession, like Taehyun wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say first.

I’m sorry.

I’ll explain everything later.

I still remember.

Those words hit Beomgyu like a gut punch. It was easy to think of this new Taehyun as an entirely different person from the one he’d known long ago. Or that Taehyun had never been real in the first place, that he was just an imaginary friend he’d dreamed up. In fact, he preferred thinking that way. To be reminded that everything with Taehyun in the past– and worse, everything with Taehyun now– was real shattered an illusion Beomgyu was trying so hard to protect.

Now he had to face the reality that their lives had gone in two conflicting directions. And yet, they were both still here, together but not quite. Separated by little more than the dome of the Arena. 

Beomgyu wanted to respond but found that he had nothing to say. No words he could string together could explain what was going through his mind, or cross the chasm between himself and Taehyun. 

I’m sorry , Taehyun repeated.  I know that’s not enough.

You’re going to win.

It wasn’t a vote of confidence or words of encouragement, but a promise.

And then, a warning.

Find high ground.

Beomgyu waited, expecting more, but once these words faded away, no new ones replaced them.

The idea of resting gone from his head, Beomgyu began packing up his stuff. The warning didn’t give a time, so he needed to move quickly in case whatever it referred to was happening soon. 

As Beomgyu followed the disembodied words’ instructions, he no longer worried if they were real. The fire inside him now was the most real thing he’d felt in a long time.

Chapter Text

Even after only a few days in the Capitol, Soobin and Yeonjun had fallen into a rhythm. In the mornings, they hurried out to get to the Square before potential sponsors arrived. Then they worked a long, exhausting day, only stopping here and there for a quick bite of food and an update on how they were each doing. They waited until the crowds grew bored and went home before doing so themselves, not wanting to miss out on a single dollar for Beomgyu. 

In the evenings, they attempted to make dinner as it was their only substantial meal of the day, but neither of them were excellent cooks. Yeonjun was quite handy at making this one specific pasta dish, so they’d had it for dinner every night so far. They then watched the Games every night until they could barely keep their eyes open. After that first night, Soobin no longer bothered with his own room. It wasn’t something they discussed or planned out. When Yeonjun went off to his room, it seemed only natural to them that Soobin follow. In the light of day, neither of them mentioned Yeonjun’s night terrors or the fact that they spent every night practically cuddling. 

Tonight, as per their routine, they were sprawled out on the couch, trying to focus on the Games. There wasn’t much happening, with many of the tributes still hiding and the news cycle having exhausted every possible angle on the Cornucopia battle from the day before. 

“This is the worst part, you know,” Yeonjun said out of nowhere. “The waiting. When you watch it at home, it just seems like the boring filler between all the good stuff, but when you’re in there, the nights are unbearable.

“I think that’s why nights are still hard for me. In the dark, it’s hard to tell that I’m safe. The fear, the dread, is still there. Every little sound could be an approaching tribute or the cannon boom. I have a small light that I keep on, but I left it at home. That’s why…” Yeonjun trailed off, following their unspoken agreement not to speak about their sleeping arrangements.

Soobin opened his mouth to respond, but Yeonjun interrupted him. “You don’t have to tell me I’m safe here. I know logically that I’m safe, but it’s like there’s this part of my brain that hasn’t quite grasped it yet.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Soobin said.

“It isn’t?”

“No, I was going to say that I think you’re really brave. It takes a lot of courage just to make it through the Games, but then you have to come out here each year and relive it. I don’t think I could do that. And you work so hard to help these new tributes that you don’t even worry about yourself. I think that’s really admirable.”

“There is nothing brave about killing 8 people,” Yeonjun spat. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. If I ever meet President Snow, I’ll kill him personally for putting you-”

“Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever wish to kill someone. You’re so kind and gentle, I don’t want you to go through something so ugly. Especially not for me.”

Soobin’s heart rate picked up slightly at the compliment, but he was still at a loss for words.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Yeonjun suggested and turned the TV off.

Soobin knew right away what he wanted to ask. “Why did you dye your hair blue?”

Yeonjun’s face broke out into a wicked grin. 

“I’ve always been jealous of people in the Capitol with their fancy hair. You’ve seen the fashion back home, it’s dreadful, but I thought at least if I had cool hair, I could make even those clothes look good. But the deciding factor was that I knew it would piss President Snow off.”

“What?”

“People in the Capitol hate when people from the Districts dye their hair. Even incredibly handsome victors like myself.”

“But they dyed Beomgyu’s hair blond for the Games. They gave Ryujin pink hair!” Soobin countered.

Yeonjun sighed, “It’s different when they give us the privilege of dyeing our hair, but the minute that we take it for ourselves, it drives them crazy. After all, they can’t go around letting the Districts have the same fun, can they? It’s just another way to distance themselves from us, and me doing it, well, closed the distance a little.”

“So what did President Snow say when he saw your hair?”

“Oh, he told me exactly how he felt about it. I believe the word he used was, ah yes, undesirable.  No one likes a winner who doesn’t listen.”

“Not that it matters, but I think Snow was wrong about your hair.” Soobin felt his cheeks flush when Yeonjun shot him a mischievous look. “I mean– it’s just that– it looks really good on you. Like it looks like it grows out of your head that color.”

“Really? I was getting kind of sick of it. I thought about going bright yellow, I think that’s what Snow will hate the most, but maybe I’ll keep it blue a little bit longer. What color would you do if you could?”

“I haven’t really given it much thought, but if I had to choose, then sky blue?”

“So we’d have like, couple’s colors?”

Soobin started choking on the water he was drinking.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Yeonjun giggled.

“So, um, you like fashion?” Soobin asked hastily in an attempt to change the subject. 

Yeonjun kept smiling that mocking smile, but he still answered the question. “Yeah, I mean it’s kind of an… inconvenient thing to be into back home. I like some of the trends here, but some of them are too much.” Soobin agreed as he remembered the crow ladies and peacock man he talked to the other day. “As a victor, I’ve been able to see a lot of things I wouldn’t normally get to, like old pictures and artifacts of the world before Panem. I like a lot of the styles in those pictures. I’d like to think that if things were different, I could’ve been a stylist or designer or something. Maybe that’s stupid.”

“That’s not stupid.”

“Oh yeah, what would you do?”

“I want to help people feel better. Not like a doctor, though. I– a few days before the Games started, I went over to Ryujin’s house. I didn’t do much, just talked with her mom and played with her brother, but you could tell how much of a difference it made. If there was a way I could do that, I would.”

“Wow. Now, mine really sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Soobin protested. “You want to do something you’re passionate about!”

“Right, and I’m passionate about clothes, ” Yeonjun rolled his eyes. 

“Well, when you say it like that, it does sound a little stupid,” Soobin joked.

“Hey!” Yeonjun aimed to punch Soobin’s arm, but Soobin rolled off the couch just in time to avoid it. Not willing to be defeated so easily, Yeonjun jumped up off the couch and began to chase Soobin around the living room. Soobin leapt over the couch, ducked under the coffee table, and ran into the kitchen to avoid the Wrath of Yeonjun. Apparently, Yeonjun realized he couldn’t catch up to Soobin and his long legs because he started launching pillows at him instead. Soobin batted these away with the very same pot Yeonjun had cooked dinner in. Soobin hit one pillow so hard that it collided with Yeonjun’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“I… surrender,” Yeonjun said hoarsely before falling over in dramatic fashion.

Soobin leaned over to help Yeonjun up when the older retrieved the nearest pillow and smacked him with it. 

“Okay, now I’m done.”

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Soobin said.

“Whatever you say, darling,” Yeonjun sang.

Soobin faked a gag to distract himself from the flush he felt heating his cheeks.

_____

Ever since the fight at the Cornucopia, finding sponsors wasn’t so hard for Soobin anymore. People sought him out, not the other way around. Some felt sympathy after Ryujin’s death and wanted to help out any way they could. Others admired the way Beomgyu held his own against the Careers and sponsored him, so if he won, they could brag that they supported the victor “from the beginning.” Soobin didn’t really care what their reasons were; he was just glad to take their money. As the Games wore on, they had no idea what Beomgyu might need to survive or how much it would cost. 

The influx of money was also partially in thanks to Yeonjun, who now worked more closely with Soobin. Before, Yeonjun had been advocating for Ryujin while Soobin handled all of Beomgyu’s sponsors, but now there was no reason for them to split up. Soobin marveled at how easy it was for him. Of course, Soobin had improved since they’d started, but it seemed to come naturally for Yeonjun. All he had to do was flash a smile, and crowds of people swooned over him. He was magnetic, pulling everyone into his orbit. He made people feel important. Men and women alike shouted over each other to get his attention because his gaze made them feel like the only person in the world.

When Soobin wasn’t being careful, he felt it too. 

Soobin was watching Yeonjun work his magic when he felt a delicate tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a boy who looked so normal he stood out against the bright colors and crazy costumes. The boy was almost as tall as Soobin, but this height seemed to be a new development, like he was still getting used to it. His baby face bared no alterations, and his hair was black and slightly curly, untouched by dye or wigs. 

“You’re here for Beomgyu, right?” the boy asked. Soobin nodded. “My mom doesn’t let me carry this much around, so here’s a check.”

The number was so big Soobin nearly fainted on the spot.

“Are you sure this is right? This is a lot of money.”

The boy peeked at the check again and said, “Yeah, that’s right!”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to give him so much money? You could buy a lot with this much.”

The boy shrugged and smiled. “I don’t even watch the Games, but I already have everything I want.”

“Then, why?” Though he was still baffled by the large amount of money, Soobin tucked the check into his pocket for safekeeping.

“Oh, my friend is absolutely obsessed with Beomgyu. He won’t admit it, of course, and he can’t use his own money, so I figured I would!”

Obsessed? Did Beomgyu have fans?

The boy continued, “The other day, he just wouldn’t shut up about him. He even talks about him in his sleep! I had to hit him to get him to shut up.”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh at the absurd idea of some nameless, faceless boy gushing over Beomgyu.

As Soobin threw his head back laughing, he saw the boy’s face screw up in confusion. “I know I don’t watch the Games, but you don’t look like last year’s victor. Yeonjun, his name was?”

Instinctively, Soobin’s gaze flicked to Yeonjun, who was still holding court with his fans. The boy, sharper than Soobin expected, didn’t miss a thing. “Oh…” he said.

Soobin tried to come up with some excuse, some explanation for who he was and why he was here, but he had nothing prepared. “I-”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

Soobin didn’t know this boy for very long, and the short conversation he had with him had been very odd, to say the least, but something in his smile made him believe him. His secret was safe with him.

Abruptly, the boy said, “I have to go now!” and left as unceremoniously as he had arrived.

Soobin shouted at his back, “Wait, what’s your name?”

“Kai!” he shouted back. And then he was gone. The whole interaction happened so quickly Soobin thought he might have imagined the entire thing.

Soobin wondered if he would ever see him again, but something deep within him told him he would see plenty more of the mysterious Kai.

That night, once they returned home, they deviated from their routine. Soobin suggested they order food instead of Yeonjun cooking again. Honestly, he was worried they’d suffer from malnutrition if they kept eating nothing but pasta. Also, even though he would never admit it to Yeonjun, he was getting sick of eating the same dish night after night. 

They took their food to the living room and ate while they watched the Games. That part of their routine would never change. It had been another day of little activity in the Arena. 

“Something big’s coming soon,” Yeonjun said. “They wouldn’t let this go on for so long if they didn’t have something planned.”

Soobin knew Yeonjun was right but wished he wasn’t. The past couple of days had been a massive relief for Soobin, not having to worry about Beomgyu’s safety because he was miles away from the nearest tribute. He wasn’t ready for that all-consuming weight on his chest again.

Soobin was brushing his teeth when Yeonjun called from the other room, “Soobin, come here, there’s something I want you to show you.”

Whatever Soobin was expecting to see when he walked into Yeonjun’s bedroom– or their bedroom, as it was now– he was not expecting to see the heart of District 7 on the wall. It was like they were transplanted into the center of the District. It was dark, but they could still see people milling about under the streetlights. A gold light glowed in the distance. Though Soobin’s house was too far away to be its source, he imagined it was his parents, leaving the light on for him and Beomgyu to find their way back home. 

Soobin turned back to Yeonjun, who was already looking at him. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s– this is so nice, Yeonjun.” Soobin couldn’t keep his eyes off the wall for too long. His heart ached for District 7 in ways he never could’ve predicted. It ached for the peace and safety of his home, of the life he had just a month ago. 

“After I won, I had to come up here for all sorts of events. I think it was the third time I was up here that I discovered this feature. Whenever I got homesick, I would just pull District 7, and it made everything a little easier. When I pulled it up tonight, I remembered that it’s your home too.”

For a moment, the world paused. Like it was giving Soobin time to catch up and figure out something that was painfully obvious to everyone else. He glanced at Yeonjun again, and it was like the universe was giving him a wake-up call. And it wasn’t being gentle about it either, as seemingly out of nowhere, Soobin was struck with an alarming realization. Why did the universe choose this night, this moment? Was it what Yeonjun said, about their shared home? Was it the tender, hopeful way Yeonjun looked at him? Or was it every minute he’d shared with Yeonjun colliding to make an explosion he simply couldn’t ignore anymore? Suddenly all those blushes and breathless moments made sense. 

Somehow, somewhere along the way, Soobin had fallen hopelessly for Yeonjun.

Well, shit.

Chapter Text

Beomgyu smelled the water before he saw it. Even from the highest branch on the tallest tree he could find, the scent of salty, musty water was so strong he nearly choked. He heard the  whoosh  of the waves as they rushed past him, rattling his tree. 

A figure was moving below him in the distance. It was Tessa, the small girl from 4, her face smeared with some sort of camouflage, presumably looking for food. “Watch out!” Beomgyu called. Her head snapped up, but before she could act, a 10-foot tall wave slammed her into a neighboring tree.

The cannon boomed.

The flood was here.

It was as if Beomgyu was suddenly floating in the middle of an ocean. All around him was rough water, covering the entire landscape. He gripped the tree branch tighter. If not for Taehyun’s warning, he’d likely have never left his previous spot. He’d be dead. 

With the flood came wind, strong enough to rip leaves from their branches and spray water onto Beomgyu’s face. It whipped his hair and shook the whole tree. It almost drowned out another boom of the cannon. Almost. The waterlogged body of Lex, the girl from 8, floated past Beomgyu. The water was so turbulent the hovercraft could not come collect her body. 

Beomgyu was trapped. He couldn’t climb any higher up the tree, the branches were not strong enough to hold him, and the water below would him pull him under before he could tell which way was up and which way was down. How long would the flood last? How long could Beomgyu even stay up here? His limbs had gone numb from being in the same position for so long, and his back ached from the weight of his packs. 

He sat still for a long time. If he closed his eyes and listened to the rushing water, he could almost convince himself he was at the beach as the tides rolled in. The waters did not retreat but instead seemed to grow fiercer, like they were pumping more water into the Arena every minute. The water was cold, and Beomgyu shivered as the flood rose higher, and more and more water splashed onto him. His teeth chattered, and he was sure the viewers at home could see his lips turning blue. 

Beomgyu had just decided the best way to wait out the flood was to sleep through it when an arrow whizzed past his head. He bolted upright and searched for the direction it came from. Another arrow came at him from his left. He ducked just in time; the arrow lodged itself in the tree where Beomgyu’s head had just been. Beomgyu turned to see Summit in a nearby tree, loading another arrow into his bow. Summit trained in archery for most of his life. It was not likely he would miss again. It was clear to Beomgyu what he had to do. He grabbed his axe and jumped into the water.

Nothing, not even days in the icy cave he’d found at the beginning of the Games, could’ve prepared his body for the freezing sensation he experienced as he entered the water. The cold was a tangible thing, a knife severing through all his veins and arteries, a syringe injecting ice crystals directly into his bloodstream. Beomgyu considered himself a decent swimmer, but his body was short-circuiting. His legs wouldn’t kick when he told them to, and his arms flailed helplessly. Water pressed in on all sides, tugging him down. The combined weight of his clothes, axes, and packs was too much for Beomgyu to fight against. He struggled to pull off the bigger pack and thrust it away from himself, thankful he had stashed his medicine and food in the smaller pack he was keeping. 

Feeling considerably lighter, Beomgyu kicked as hard as he could, fighting to get to the surface. His kicks felt useless like he was trying to kick his way out of quicksand. When he broke through the surface, he took a big gulp of air before the tide swept him up again. Rather than fighting the tide, Beomgyu swam with it, letting it take him further and further away from Summit’s arrows. He was a skilled archer, but even he couldn’t hit a moving target in the middle of a flood. 

The water still tried to drag him under, but Beomgyu regained control of his limbs as his body adjusted to the cold. With his axe in one hand and his small pack in the other, he was almost swimming gracefully. The only problem now was getting out of the water. The waves were moving too fast for Beomgyu to stop at a tree and climb it, and there was no shore in sight. He could only swim for so long before his body succumbed to exhaustion.

He tried to open his eyes underwater, but they stung from the influx of salt. The water was unnaturally clear, and he could see plants and small trees that the flood had uprooted. A small family of squirrels lay crushed under the weight of the water. 

He could also see the slope of the ground. He followed the slope upwards, fighting against the current. He needed to get to higher ground again to wait out the storm. But the current was so strong, with every stroke Beomgyu took, he moved 5 feet backward. He was about to give up when the current stopped suddenly like someone flipped a switch and turned it off. The water grew calm long enough for Beomgyu to get to the top of the slope before raging again. 

The top of the slope was still flooded, but the water was more shallow here. Beomgyu could stand on the ground and hold his head and shoulders above water. He took in a greedy breath of air, daring to believe he was finally safe. 

Something brushed up against Beomgyu’s leg. A small plant, or was it a fish? Beomgyu glanced down to see what it was and barely registered it was a hand before he was being pulled under. Beomgyu kicked and thrashed, but the hand gripped his leg tighter. He tried to kick with his other leg, slamming it into the face that belonged to the hand. The hand let him go, and Beomgyu got back to his feet and ran as fast as he could through the water. He pulled out both his axes before turning to see who his attacker was. 

There, clutching his bloody nose, stood Pax, the boy from 4. He lifted his gaze up to Beomgyu, and pure hatred burned in his eyes. He wiped his nose one last time and lunged toward Beomgyu with his trident. But Beomgyu was ready for the attack. He met the trident’s prongs with his small axe while he swung at Pax with his larger one. Under normal conditions, the blow would’ve landed, but with the added resistance from the water, Beomgyu’s swing lost all momentum by the time his axe even got close to Pax. Pax, who was from the fishing district, was in his element, and Beomgyu had no idea how to proceed. Pax lashed out with the trident again, and Beomgyu dodged it just in time. He couldn’t swim away; Pax was the better swimmer. He would catch him. He had to stand his ground and hope for a miracle.

The water was still thrashing all around them. Beomgyu would just have to use it to his advantage. Pax and Beomgyu traded blows, but Pax was only striking when the water was still. When the waves raged, he paused, took the time to catch his breath. So that was when Beomgyu would strike. When the next wave came, Beomgyu leaped into it. Beomgyu commanded this wave, not the other way around. The wave drove him directly to Pax, and he used both the wave’s momentum and his own body weight to slam into him. With Pax down, Beomgyu slammed the blunt end of his axe, once, twice, into his stomach.

Pax thrust his trident out, but his aim was sloppy, and he only grazed Beomgyu’s leg. The rush of saltwater to the wound stung, but Beomgyu would worry about that later. His wet hands made his grip on the axes slip, so Beomgyu stuck them into his belt. When Pax attacked again, Beomgyu grabbed his trident and yanked it out of his hands. He chucked it as far as he could, and the waves took it away. The hate in Pax’s eyes turned to something stronger. Beomgyu had just made it personal. 

Pax swung his fist at Beomgyu, and the resulting collision rattled Beomgyu’s brain. He tried to shake it off, but Pax struck again, and the dull ache in his skull was growing stronger. Beomgyu ducked under his next punch and swam up until he was right next to Pax and drove his elbow hard into his face. He aimed a kick at Pax’s stomach, but Pax grabbed his leg and pulled him down. Beomgyu tried to escape, but Pax had learned from his mistakes; he now had a firm grip on both of Beomgyu’s legs. Beomgyu contorted his body to swing with his fists, but nothing was working. 

Beomgyu felt a momentary flicker of hope when his legs were released, but it quickly disappeared when Pax’s hands wrapped around his neck. Beomgyu dug his fingers under Pax’s hands and tried to pry them off his throat, but Pax only tightened his grip. He was shoving Beomgyu deeper, deeper underwater. Beomgyu quickly felt his limbs lose feeling as his body screamed for air. The water was suffocating, and his throat burned like he was choking on hot coals. His brain screamed at his legs to kick, his arms to punch, his body to do  something.

Beomgyu opened his eyes for what he believed was the last time and saw Pax smiling, the fiery hate in his eyes replaced with glee. Beomgyu’s adrenaline spiked. He refused to let that evil, sneering face be the last thing he ever saw. With newfound strength, he pounded his fist into Pax’s stomach. It was strong enough to throw Pax off guard, and he released Beomgyu to clutch his stomach. Beomgyu jumped up to the surface, taking in as much air as he could. 

Beomgyu pulled his axe from his belt and slammed it into Pax’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t a killing blow, but it was enough to incapacitate him while Beomgyu got away. Once again, he swam into the tide, letting it carry him wherever it wanted, as long as it wasn’t here. 

Once the tide had safely driven Beomgyu away, the waters started to calm and recede. It made sense. The flood had served its purpose. They got their show. 

As quick as the flood came, it was gone, the damp ground the only sign it had ever happened. Beomgyu crawled on the ground and vomited up saltwater. He laid on the ground for as long as he dared, letting his body relax and recover. When he could muster the strength, he climbed the nearest tree and settled in for the rest of the day.

The tree was tall, and he could see much of the landscape from here. A fire crackled to his right, and he could see movement not too far from it. To his left, he saw someone trying to climb a different tree. Not too far in front of him was Pax, still recovering from their fight.

It seemed the flood had two purposes. It had driven all the remaining tributes to the same area. 

_____

Taehyun found that being on weather duty for a couple days had its perks. For example, no one noticed when he logged into the system and turned off the current, specifically when Beomgyu needed him to. Or that the waves slammed into Pax  much  harder than Beomgyu.

Pleased with himself, Taehyun took a long lunch break that day. His plan was working perfectly, and Beomgyu was that much closer to winning.

When Taehyun returned to his desk, he found an envelope lying on it. It was unmarked but clearly meant for him. Inside was only one item, but it froze the blood in Taehyun’s veins.

It was a picture of him and Beomgyu as children. They looked younger, scrawny, and innocent, but it was unmistakably them. Taehyun flipped the image over and found two words scrawled onto the back. 

I know.

Chapter Text

I know.  

Those two words ripped Taehyun apart from the inside out like his stomach contents had turned to shards of glass.

He knew it was all his fault. He hadn’t been careful. He actually had the  audacity  to believe that no one was smart enough to catch on to his brilliant plan. His boss was right. Taehyun was used to being at the top, untouchable, and he let that be his greatest mistake.

Taehyun glanced around the room, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions and see who could’ve sent the note, but no one paid him any mind. They were all engrossed with their work and the Games, too busy to notice Taehyun’s entire world falling apart.

Flipping over the note, Taehyun stared at the picture of him and Beomgyu. It was taken just weeks before Taehyun moved to the Capitol. “Something to remember me by,” Beomgyu had said before pulling a reluctant Taehyun into frame as Soobin snapped the picture. What did this mean for Beomgyu? Would he be punished for Taehyun’s interference? And how had they gotten this picture?

The note bore no threat, but that did nothing to ease Taehyun’s fears. Whoever sent it likely had more sinister intentions than empty threats. 

For the rest of day, Taehyun found it difficult to focus on his work. He jumped at every noise and studied every face, wondering which of them had betrayed him. He was thankful when the end of his shift came, but he did not leave. Instead, he stuck around, watching the room from the outside as the night crew rolled in. If they really wanted something from Taehyun, they would have to leave another note, and this time, he would be here when they did.

Time stretched out like sticky candy, but Taehyun refused to give up. He would wait all night if that’s what it took. Every once in a while, someone would walk by, and Taehyun had to jump up and pretend to be doing something important before crouching down again. Eventually, after his legs had grown numb from being stuck in his hiding spot for so long, he saw someone approach his desk. They dropped an envelope, identical to the one in Taehyun’s pocket, on the desk and left the room, like they were never there. His back was to Taehyun, but when he turned to leave, Taehyun saw enough of his face.

It was Jefferson. 

Jefferson?

Surely he wasn’t smart enough to pull this off? Jefferson’s only job was to fire the cannon when a tribute died, and even then sometimes Taehyun had to remind him to do it. If he couldn’t do that, how could he orchestrate blackmail? And how could he have found the picture of Beomgyu and Taehyun?

Taehyun sprang out of his spot and planted himself firmly in the way of Jefferson’s escape route. Jefferson didn’t look nearly as surprised as Taehyun had expected him to.

“What are you doing?” Taehyun asked.

Jefferson ran a hand through his hair, giving himself time to come up with a lie. “I left something at my desk, so I just had to grab it.”

“Then why aren’t you holding anything?”

Jefferson had clearly not been expecting this question. “I-”

“Why did you leave something on my desk?”

Jefferson’s eyes grew wide. “I was just dropping it off. I swear. He told me he would give me a raise if I dropped a couple notes off on your desk,” Jefferson insisted.

“Who told you?”

“Snow.”

Taehyun crossed his arms, not sure if he bought Jefferson’s story. On the one hand, there was no way Jefferson could pull this off by himself, but on the other, if Snow wanted something from him, why would he go to all the trouble of blackmail? As the President, couldn’t he simply demand whatever he wanted? And what could he possibly want from Taehyun?

“I swear it’s true,” Jefferson pleaded. “You’ll know once you open the note.” When Taehyun gave him a funny look, he said, “I  may  have peeked inside.”

Disgust coursed through Taehyun, so much so that he thought it might seep out of his pores. He couldn’t stand to look at Jefferson for one more second. He ran inside the Gamemakers’ Room, grabbed the note, and ran out of the building. When he was far enough away from that terrible, awful place, he ripped open the envelope so hard he tore the note inside.

Tomorrow. 7 pm. My mansion. Don’t be late.

- Your loving President.

_____

Soobin had only had 2 crushes before Yeonjun. The first was a girl in his class, but now he was sure he just wanted to be her friend more than anything else. The second, the first one he actually counted, was on his music teacher. Soobin had just turned 13, and he was absolutely fascinated by his gentle singing voice and the soft slope of his nose. He stuck around after class just for the chance to be near him longer. The crush quickly died out when Beomgyu noticed what Soobin was doing and said, “You know he’s married, and they have a baby on the way, right?”

Neither of those crushes even compared to what he felt for Yeonjun. 

Being around Yeonjun was both incredibly easy and impossibly hard. Easy because he didn’t have to try. He never worried about saying the wrong thing or driving Yeonjun away. And he liked what Yeonjun brought out in him. Soobin felt that the person he was with Yeonjun was the person he was always meant to be. 

It was hard because he spent every second with Yeonjun worrying that he would find out how he felt. Whenever he laughed too hard at something Yeonjun said, or his voice was too high pitched, he was terrified his cover had been blown. Soobin’s crush– that word didn’t feel strong enough for what he was experiencing, but he wasn’t sure what else to call it– was so obvious to him, surely Yeonjun could see it too. 

Soobin’s crush encased him in this bubble of excitement and nerves and butterflies. His bubble popped when the flood came. Watching Beomgyu struggle in the water and then with Pax gave Soobin a sick feeling in his stomach. Here, Soobin was giggling and pining over Yeonjun while Beomgyu fought for his life. Was Soobin even allowed to feel happy right now, during the worst time of his brother’s life? And if by some miracle Yeonjun liked him back, what kind of person would that make Soobin if he took up all of Yeonjun’s time when Beomgyu needed him to get sponsors? 

Soobin recognized the feeling for what it was. Guilt. He had to make this right, make it up to Beomgyu. He had to distance himself from Yeonjun.

The night of the flood, Soobin slept in his  own bedroom. Alone.

_____

Taehyun had never known true fear. Sure, he had  fears  like everyone else, ranging from spiders to failure, but he’d never feared for his life. Not until he stepped foot into President Snow’s mansion. 

Snow must have told the guards to expect him because Taehyun had no trouble getting through the gate or the front doors. Once inside, Taehyun came to a halt. The note had simply stated  my mansion  and nothing further. Taehyun glanced at the grandfather clock in the entrance hall. It read 6:55. He was early, just in case the consequences for being late were dire. 

No one was sent to collect Taehyun until 7:05. It seemed Snow had no problem making  him  wait. He was ushered down a long hallway. Taehyun counted the doors as they passed, just in case he had to find his own way out. The hallway ended in a circular room with a bouquet of white roses sitting on a glass desk. Snow sat behind the desk, an unsettling grin on his face. 

“Sit, please,” he instructed Taehyun before dismissing his servant.

Taehyun jumped as the door closed, trapping him in. 

“Kang Taehyun, top of your class at the Academy. The youngest person ever to become a Gamemaker. What an honor.”

Taehyun shifted in his seat. “Likewise, sir.”

Snow’s wrinkles and white hair gave off the illusion of a kind old man. It was enough for the people of the Capitol, who fawned over the President and hung on his every word. But Taehyun was not from the Capitol. He was from the districts, where they saw Snow for what he really was: a cruel, ruthless dictator. 

“I would ask why you thought I brought you here, but that would be a waste of time. We both already know.”

Taehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself. The air was so thick with the stench of roses that he nearly choked on it. 

“When I got the call that the newest Gamemaker sent a rogue  creation  into the Arena unauthorized, I thought you were just eager. I was actually proud of you– it would something I would’ve done in my youth. It wasn’t until Beomgyu went on and on about this boy from his past when he thought no one was listening that I realized it was something deeper. So I did some digging. I knew, of course, that your family had moved from the districts. After all, I was the one who requested your father’s transfer. I just never cared what district it was. 

“Imagine my surprise when I find out that not only are you from District 7 but that you were close personal friends with Choi Beomgyu.”

Bile rose in Taehyun’s throat. He was   going to be sick. He fucked up. He  really  fucked up, and now Snow was going to kill him  and  Beomgyu. He hoped it would be fast. According to the rumors, poison was Snow’s weapon of choice. Would it kill him instantly, or would he choke on his own blood for minutes before he actually died?

“Suddenly, it made sense, all these weird little happenings around Beomgyu. It was you.”

“Sir, please, I’ll stop,” Taehyun begged.

“I didn’t ask you to.” Snow paused to take a sip of wine. “You see, Taehyun, victors can be, well, to put it lightly, full of themselves. They seem to think that just because they won the Games, they beat me too. They like to think they get to do whatever they want. God knows how much trouble Choi Yeonjun has caused me over the last year.”

“Sir, I’m not sure I follow.”

“This year, I want a good victor. One who will behave and listen. One the people of the Capitol will love, but not more than they love me. One who will give the districts enough hope to be satisfied, no more, no less. One I can control.

“I thought it would be impossible to find anyone like this in this crop of tributes, but Beomgyu’s little crush gave me the perfect opportunity. So, where do you fit in all of this, Taehyun? Well, you are going to keep doing what you’re doing. Make sure Beomgyu wins. And once he does, I’ll have the perfect victor, who does everything I want him to.”

“How do you know he’ll do that?” Taehyun asked, feeling defiant for the first time.

“Because if he doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

Chapter Text

Beomgyu shivered from atop his tree. His clothes were still damp from the flood, but he didn’t dare make a fire, not with the other tributes so near. Beomgyu counted 6 tributes left: Cherry, Summit, Pax, Griffin from 9, Thora from 11, and himself. He was sure he’d gotten this far by sheer luck and maybe some help from the outside, but even with Taehyun’s assistance, there was no way he could win. Not when half of the remaining tributes had personal reasons to want him dead. 

Beomgyu emptied out his waterlogged bag and surveyed which of his supplies were salvageable. Most of his dried fruit was sopping wet, so he guessed that just made them regular fruit now. He still had his canteen and his axes, as well as a coil of rope. At the very bottom of the bag was the medicine from his sponsors. Luckily, the container was sealed shut, and no water infiltrated the salve. He rubbed a small amount on his leg where Pax’s trident had grazed him and dabbed a bit on his healed stab wound just for good measure. 

The forest was too silent for Beomgyu to move. His fellow tributes would hear every breath he took, every twig he stepped on or leaf he crunched. He waited until Panem’s Anthem rang out across the Arena and announced the flood’s victims to make his escape. Undercover of the loud music, he leaped down from branch to branch until he landed softly on the ground. He’d been plotting his getaway for hours. If he headed west, he’d be at the desert sector in 10 minutes. 20 minutes if he slowed down enough to ensure he wouldn’t be heard. 

He snuck carefully, taking his time as he winded through the trees, not even daring to breathe. He held his axe out in case he ran across someone else, but he didn’t. Eventually, he came to a clearing. Without the cover of trees, he was vulnerable to aerial attacks from Summit or being spotted by anyone. He made a run for it to the desert. 

Beomgyu was so close to the desert he felt the dry heat warm his cold skin when he slammed into an invisible barrier and fell on his back. He reached his hand out to feel the barrier again and drew his hand back when it stung him. As he pulled his hand back, he watched as the air rippled from where he had just touched it. The ripples continued going out as far as Beomgyu could see. It was a force field. They were trapping them in the forest sector. 

Beomgyu waited a minute or 10 and tried again. He felt the same stinging sensation and watched the same ripples. Sighing, he made his way to the nearest tree, climbed up, and tied himself in. He was so exhausted from the flood and his escape attempt that he fell asleep in seconds.

_____

It was already almost dark again by the time Beomgyu woke up. It seemed he was more tired than he thought. He ate a handful of dried mango pieces and surveyed the area around him. He was on the edge of the forest now, not as close to the other tributes as he had been the day before. 

Beomgyu hopped down from the tree and set off. His plan was to make his way through that barrier one way or another. After confirming that it was, in fact, still there, he tried hacking through it with his axe. When that proved fruitless and left him sticky with sweat, he kicked it pathetically, just in case.

As he swung away, a little bee buzzed around his head.

“Get away,” Beomgyu swatted at the bug.

But the bee was not easily deterred. It buzzed more fervently this time, making a targeted attack on Beomgyu’s head as it bounced its little body off the side of it over and over again. 

“Psst,” the bee said.

Beomgyu searched his body for tracker jacker stings. That was the only thing that could explain this hallucination.

“Beomgyu, it’s me.” Wow, he had been thinking about Taehyun so much he swore the bee sounded just like him.

“Beomgyu, it’s Taehyun.” For good measure, the bee stung his hand.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“I had to get your attention somehow! Listen, I don’t have much time before they notice I diverted the cameras away from you.” Taehyun’s voice sounded like he was whispering, like he was trying not to get caught.

“Good, I wanted to thank you for your warning. You saved my life.” Beomgyu didn’t know if he would ever be able to repay Taehyun for that.

“What? Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Beomgyu asked. Taehyun had to be here for a reason; he wouldn’t risk it all just for a quick chat.

Taehyun paused, and Beomgyu could hear him breathing as he collected his thoughts. If Beomgyu wasn’t terrified of what Taehyun was going to say, he would’ve reflected on the absurdity of the situation. 

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” Taehyun sounded like every word pained him.

“What do you mean? Can you not help me anymore?” Beomgyu’s mind and pulse started racing. He already wasn’t confident in his ability to win  with  Taehyun’s help. How could he manage this without him?

“No, no, I’ll never stop helping you. I’m just sorry for everything that comes after this.”

Beomgyu had never given much thought to life after the Games. To him, it always seemed like there was no life after the Games. He always wanted to win, and at times thought that he could actually manage it, but as the Games unfolded, the dream of going home seemed more and more like that: just a dream. Now, he saw how hard it would be, dealing with everything that happened here. In the Games, he didn’t have time to grieve or feel guilt, but back home, he would be alone with those thoughts. But that wasn’t Taehyun’s fault. 

“Don’t be sorry, you’re the reason I even have a chance to go home. I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“I don’t think you’ll be thanking me.” 

“Taehyun, what does that mean?”

“By the way, there’s no way through the barrier.”

“Um, thanks. But I still don’t understand what you mean.”

The little bee went silent. Their time was up. But it continued to buzz around Beomgyu for the remainder of the night and rested on his hand as he slept.

Chapter Text

Without the comforting warmth and weight of Yeonjun, Soobin tossed and turned all night long. He woke up more tired than he’d been when he’d fallen asleep. Despite his terrible night’s sleep, Soobin was sure he had made the right decision. It was better this way. He and Yeonjun could focus on their obligations to Beomgyu and not let any… distractions get in their way.

It was hard to remind himself of this when Yeonjun emerged from his own room, Soobin’s exhaustion and misery mirrored on his face. 

Soobin only acknowledged his presence with a terse nod, telling himself that all the progress he’d made over the night would be lost if he immediately went back to hopelessly flirting with Yeonjun. He brushed his teeth in painful silence and jumped in the shower to avoid any conversation with Yeonjun as he went about his own morning routine.

“No one died last night, so that’s good,” Yeonjun said lightly as Soobin prepared his breakfast. Again, Soobin only nodded in response. 

“Okay, what’s up with you today? I thought you maybe just wanted a bed to yourself last night but today... If you’re in a bad mood or just need some time alone, I understand that, but can you just let me know so I can give you the space you need?”

Soobin pressed his lips together, unsure of his response. “No, it’s not that.”

“Was it something I did or said?” Yeonjun asked, unsure of himself for the first time since Soobin had met him. He recovered quickly from his vulnerable moment. “Did I drool on you in my sleep? I’ll bet that was it. I’ve never been good at controlling my salivary glands.”

Laughter bubbled up in Soobin’s throat, but he had to contain it. He ached for yesterday when he could laugh at Yeonjun freely, without the crushing weight of guilt. 

“Soobin, please, just talk to me,” Yeonjun pleaded. His dark eyes bore into Soobin’s, begging for something, anything.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know, but if you want to-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just drop it?” Soobin snapped. Soobin’s heart twinged as he watched Yeonjun’s face fall. But the determination in Yeonjun’s eyes told him this would not be the end of this conversation.

Soobin’s performance with the sponsors was pitiful, to put it lightly. He was off-balance the whole day, and he knew exactly why. He and Yeonjun were the perfect team, but today they were out of step, barely glancing at each other as they worked. Soobin’s mood must have radiated off of him because few people dared to approach him. He was grateful when the sunset and people slowly trickled out. 

As they walked home, Soobin could feel Yeonjun’s frustration mount until it reached its peak as they walked through the front door.

“Listen, I was fine with you being weird this morning. If you’re going through something, that’s fine, I get that. But when it starts affecting how we do out there, that’s when you need to tell me what’s going on. I know I don’t have to tell you that Beomgyu needs you to be at your best, and you just weren’t that today.”

Soobin took a deep breath. His cheeks burned at the thought of explaining the reason behind his sudden distance to Yeonjun.

When Soobin didn’t respond, Yeonjun said, “Soobin, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Soobin’s resolve, which had always been weak around Yeonjun, crumbled. 

“To be honest, it’s kind of embarrassing,” Soobin huffed out a heavy breath. “It sounds really silly when I say it out loud.”

Yeonjun didn’t say anything, just nodded encouragingly.

“Well, with Beomgyu in the Games, I’ve been feeling so guilty lately. He’s suffering and in pain all the time, and I’m…” Soobin paused, looking for the right words, ones that wouldn’t give him away. “When I’m with you, I’m just really happy.” Soobin looked up to see that he and Yeonjun were wearing matching blushes.

“It just didn’t feel right to me, so I tried to push you away. I’m sorry about that.”

The silence was heavy, stifling, as Soobin waited to hear what Yeonjun was thinking.

“Please say something,” Soobin begged.

To Soobin’s surprise and mortification, Yeonjun started laughing. Was the idea of Soobin liking Yeonjun really laughable? Soobin wanted nothing more than to slink into his room and never leave.

“What’s so funny?”

Yeonjun controlled himself long enough to respond. “That’s just such a Soobin thing to say. To worry about.”

“What?”

“It’s so like you to worry about how other people feel so much that it stops you from being happy. You should never have to feel guilty about how you feel. If the situation was reversed, wouldn’t you want Beomgyu to be happy too? Wouldn’t the idea of his happiness make your suffering more bearable?”

Soobin felt very foolish. Of course he had been overreacting,  of course.

“Well, when you say it like that.”

“I can be very wise when I want to be, Choi Soobin.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Soobin teased.

Soobin moved to make dinner, happy to have gotten out of this with most of his pride intact. Yeonjun, however, had other plans.

“Nuh-uh, you really think we’re not going to discuss that other thing you said?”

Soobin rubbed a spot on the back of his neck. “Oh, you heard that? You see, I was thinking we could just breeze past that and pretend it never happened.” 

Yeonjun had a thoughtful look on his face like he was actually considering this idea. “You see, we could do that, but as it happens, being around you makes me happy too.” Yeonjun flashed him the biggest, most sincere smile he’d ever seen. Soobin almost couldn’t believe that this shameless, toothy smile was all for him. And only him.

Again, Soobin was unsure of how to proceed, but for a very different reason than before. “I’m, um, very glad to hear that,” he managed. 

“Very glad to hear that? That’s all you have to say?” Yeonjun pretended to be offended, but his words were still laced with that smile. 

“Um, yeah. It’s very useful information, I think. Good to know.”

“And are you going to do anything with that information?” Yeonjun pressed.

“Like what?” Soobin asked. He just noticed that Yeonjun was now very close, and Soobin was finding it very hard to breathe.

“Like this.”

Slowly, so slowly that Soobin was growing impatient, Yeonjun closed the space between them and pressed his lips to Soobin’s. It was soft, and delicate, and lovely, and everything that Soobin imagined kissing Yeonjun would be like, and more. Soobin gently placed his hand on the small of Yeonjun’s back, just so he wouldn’t slip away in a breeze or dissolve right in front of him. 

When they broke apart, the sound of their nervous and giddy giggles filled the small space.

“Yeah, I guess like that,” Soobin said, and now it was his turn to break out into a big goofy smile.

Chapter Text

In the Games, Beomgyu’s sleep was usually dreamless, as his brain was too exhausted to invent something to entertain him for the night. This night, however, was different. He was in a boat as it rocked back and forth on the turbulent sea. It must’ve been storming, but Beomgyu was locked in a room and could see nothing in the dark. All he could feel was the ceaseless rocking of the boat and the rattling of its wooden planks. He even thought he heard the rustling of mice scurrying past his feet.

The boat shook so hard that Beomgyu thought the whole thing was going to capsize. The force of the rocking threw him across the room, and just before he slammed into the wall, his eyes snapped open. The forest around him was abuzz, each plant and animal responding to some kind of disturbance. The only creature that didn’t move was Taehyun’s small bee, which still rested peacefully on his hand. 

Beomgyu located the source of the disturbance immediately. Summit stood at the base of Beomgyu’s tree with a sinister smile on his face. He held his bow in his hands with an arrow nocked, but he wasn’t aiming at Beomgyu or poised to fire at all. Why didn’t he take the shot when Beomgyu was still sleeping?

A leaf rustled just below where Beomgyu lay tied to the tree. Beomgyu looked down just in time to see a hand withdraw from the spot he’d heard the sound coming from. Beomgyu scrambled to untie the rope that kept him secure in the tree. The person was climbing again, louder and faster now that they’d already been spotted. So that’s where all the rocking and rattling and rustling came from.

Beomgyu freed himself from the knot, cursing himself for tying it so tight last night. Just as he was getting up from his spot, Cherry pulled herself onto the branch next to Beomgyu’s. Her bright red hair flew wildly in the wind as she drew her sword. Fuck. Was she insane? Did she want to fight up here? Beomgyu squatted gingerly, trying to make his way to the trunk and shimmy down. Cherry slashed with her sword, and Beomgyu jumped to the right to avoid it. Cherry threw her head back in a wicked laugh. It seemed she wasn’t trying to strike Beomgyu but to get him further out on the branch. Which he was.

Beomgyu drew his own weapon, the axe feeling awkward and heavy in his hands like it knew it shouldn’t be used this high up. Cherry’s branch was less than 2 feet from Beomgyu’s, but her sword was several inches longer than that. The only way Beomgyu could get any blows in was if he got closer, and that was not an option. 

This time, when Cherry took aim, it was to wound. She thrust her blade out, aiming for Beomgyu’s stomach. He deflected with the blade of his axe and cringed as he heard the grind of steel on steel. As he moved, his branch wobbled. His branch was thick enough to hold him, but hers looked much sturdier. They were only about 2 stories up; Beomgyu wasn’t worried about surviving the fall, but what was waiting for him on the ground. 

Cherry slashed several times, trying to get Beomgyu to walk out onto the very skinny, very precarious end of his branch. As she did so, her face broke out into an ugly, twisted smile. Beomgyu would not let her be his downfall; he had not forgotten the role she played in Ryujin’s death. 

Still, despite his determination, Beomgyu was at a clear disadvantage. He could only defend himself as his weapon was too short for him to go on the offensive and strike against her. He ducked and jumped and refused to allow himself to be led to the end of the branch. Cherry held strong, only a few droplets of sweat, indicating that this fight took any toll on her. But still, each strike was stronger than the last, like she was no longer enjoying herself and was eager to be done.

Beomgyu was desperate to escape and searched for any way out as he avoided Cherry’s attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a branch he hadn’t seen before. It was just below Cherry’s. A plan, a way out, started forming in his head. Before he had time to think it through, he tucked his axe into his belt and leaped.

By some miracle or divine interference, Beomgyu grabbed onto the branch and pulled himself onto it. Cherry sputtered, momentarily baffled, but then whirled around to find Beomgyu just below her. When Beomgyu found his footing, he took his axe out from his belt and began to hack at the branch Cherry was standing on.

_____

Taehyun was so glad Beomgyu was smart. As soon as Taehyun added the extra branch below Cherry, Beomgyu knew exactly what to do. And no one in the Gamemaker’s Room batted an eye at the new branch. No one at all seemed concerned by any of Taehyun’s interferences for the last day. He supposed that was a perk of working with the devil. Or maybe working  for  the devil was more accurate. 

Beomgyu hacked away at Cherry’s branch, but it wasn’t breaking. The branch was thick, and Beomgyu’s strength was waning. With the press of a button, Taehyun hollowed out the branch, making it so Beomgyu only had to cut away its edges to bring it down. Guilt gnawed at Taehyun. Yes, he was helping save Beomgyu’s life, but every tribute that died was one step closer to Beomgyu being Snow’s puppet for life. Not to mention what would happen to Taehyun if Beomgyu didn’t listen. And yet, Taehyun didn’t hesitate. He knew he never would. He knew that he was putting his own life in danger to save Beomgyu. And he’d do it over and over again. 

When Taehyun saw Beomgyu at the Tribute Parade, he’d feared that the years had changed him. They had certainly changed Taehyun; he was now an integral part of the system he grew up hating. But despite everything, Beomgyu was still good and kind and made Taehyun feel warm. The way he’d been so trusting to Dayoung, a complete stranger, when she did nothing to deserve it. The way his loyalty to Ryujin transcended even death. Sure, time had hardened Beomgyu, but he was still the best person he’d ever known. And if only one of them could survive, he would make sure it was Beomgyu.

Beomgyu was still cutting the branch, but he was almost done. Taehyun knew the fall alone wasn’t enough to kill Cherry. And Summit wouldn’t turn on her until they had dispatched Beomgyu. If she fell, she would just get up and climb right back up, or else force Beomgyu to fight on the ground. Two on one. 

Taehyun scrambled to think of some way to even the odds. Cherry  had  to have some weakness; she just had to. He knew he read it somewhere if only he could sweep away the clutter in his mind. He remembered reading her profile on the day of the Tribute Parade, but he’d been so distracted by Beomgyu the rest of the night that everything else felt insignificant. 

Taehyun racked his brain, searching for an answer, as Beomgyu was about to deliver the final blow to Cherry’s branch. She was doing everything she could to stop him, trying to slice his fingers off as he worked, but he kept swatting away her sword with his axe like it was nothing more than a fly. Beomgyu raised his axe, and suddenly it came to Taehyun.  Cherry couldn’t swim.  She had only survived the flood because Summit dragged her along as she flailed. 

Taehyun’s fingers flew as he programmed, and he slammed the button at the same moment Beomgyu’s axe hit its mark.

_____

As Cherry fell, she grabbed a fistful of Beomgyu’s jacket and pulled him down with her. They landed with a loud splash in a deep pool of water that was  definitely  not there before. Beomgyu braced for another underwater fight, but Cherry released him as soon as they hit the water. The pool was large, about the size of a large house, and Beomgyu swam as fast as he could to the edge before Cherry could catch up to him. He pulled himself out of the pool as he heard the splashes of Cherry following him. But when he looked behind him, he saw that she was not swimming at all, but drowning. Her eyes found Beomgyu’s and pleaded with him. The human side of him wanted to jump in and save her, to stop her pain. 

But then Summit was yelling for her, and Beomgyu’s instincts took over. He fled, putting as much distance between him and the Careers as possible. And yet it felt like he was trying to outrun his guilt as the image of Cherry’s anguish burned in his brain. 

Chapter Text

Naturally, after the first kiss came many more. Soobin tried to hold out because Yeonjun was acting all smug and mighty and kept going on and on about how Soobin never would’ve made a move on him, and they were only here because of Yeonjun. Soobin thought he shouldn’t be rewarding this kind of behavior, but then Yeonjun pouted, and he caved. 

It was all just so new and exciting, being with Yeonjun this way. And Soobin was addicted to the feeling he got every time their lips touched. 

When they finally settled down for bed, they shed their previous pretenses about their motives. Though it did help with the nightmares, they both knew that they cuddled each night simply because they enjoyed being in each other’s arms. 

Morning dawned brighter and more brilliant than Soobin had ever seen it. Birds–real birds, not Jabberjays–sang a chorus of good mornings to Soobin. It took him a moment to notice the empty space on his chest where a blue head usually rested. Soobin sat up quickly, startled by Yeonjun’s apparent absence.

“Good morning, sleepy,” Yeonjun cooed, watching Soobin from the other side of the bed. “Thank God you’re up. You snore a lot. I thought it was cute at first, but it was getting annoying.” 

Soobin groaned and climbed out of bed despite how much he ached to linger in this sun-drenched moment. No matter how many times he kissed Yeonjun, the Games were still going on, and they still had a job to do. 

The Square was busier than usual today, which Soobin didn’t think possible. As the Games were building up to an epic finale, more people were invested in the outcome. And wanted a chance to impact that outcome. For fear of losing each other in such a large crowd, Soobin and Yeonjun decided not to split up today but to work together.

One of the benefits–Soobin hated thinking of it this way–of the decrease in tributes was that they had less competition for sponsors. Now only a couple other mentors were working the Square as opposed to the dozen they started with. This also meant they were flocked with people throwing money at them. Soobin did not take it for granted how only several days ago, he found it difficult to get anyone to even look twice at him. He chalked this up to Beomgyu, and his inspiring performance in the Games, because Soobin was pretty sure he was still the same Soobin he was last week. 

“We’re saving up for something big,” Yeonjun had told Soobin a couple days before. Thus far, they had been conservative with their sponsorship gifts, only sending him medicine and letting him fend for himself for everything else. Soobin would’ve been angry with Yeonjun for withholding sponsorships if Beomgyu wasn’t so good at finding supplies on his own. Plus, as Yeonjun had explained, “The Gamemakers will have something big planned, so Beomgyu will need something big to survive. Something expensive.” The only question was what he would need and if they could get it to him fast enough.

It was around lunchtime, and the Square was thinning out as it always did at this time, as the people of the Capitol went out for their rich indulgent meals. Soobin turned to Yeonjun, expecting to see him beaming back at him, but instead found him deep in conversation. He was talking to a boy just shorter than Yeonjun, who looked to be about Beomgyu’s age. Something about his big eyes and nose seemed familiar to Soobin, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” Yeonjun asked the stranger.

“What’s going on?” Soobin interrupted what seemed to be a heated argument.

“Well,” Yeonjun sighed, “Taehyun here claims to be a Gamemaker.”

Soobin knew the shock on his face was plain.

“Oh no, not  that  kind of Gamemaker,” Yeonjun’s voice was dripping with contempt. “No, he’s a  good  Gamemaker. As if those even exist.”

“Listen to me!” The stranger–Taehyun–demanded. “I know exactly what they’re planning and what Beomgyu needs to survive it!”

“What you’re  planning!” Yeonjun corrected.

“Yeonjun,” Soobin pulled Yeonjun aside, and using the softest tone he could, he asked, “don’t you think we should hear him out? It can’t hurt to just listen.”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun’s expression changed from anger to pain, and his eyes pleaded with Soobin. “You know who these people are. What they did to me. What they’re doing to Beomgyu right now. Do you really want to work with one of them?”

“What choice do we have? We have no idea what’s coming next, and while I have faith in Beomgyu, we’re not really in any position to turn down help.”

“And what if he’s not here to help us? Why would he want to risk his job–maybe even his life–for Beomgyu? It just doesn’t make any sense. He’s probably just here to throw us off.”

Everything Yeonjun said made perfect sense, and yet, Soobin still felt that Taehyun was trustworthy. Was it simply because he wanted to believe there were still good people in the Capitol? Or was it because of that odd familiar feeling?

Soobin was pondering this when a fourth person joined them.

“I see you’ve met Taehyun,” a bright voice greeted them. The tall, enigmatic boy had returned, and he looked as bouncy as the curls in his hair.

“Kai?” Soobin asked, the name easily coming back to him.

“You know him?” Yeonjun asked.

“Yes. No. We met the other day. He wanted to sponsor Beomgyu.” He turned to face Kai. “How do you know Taehyun?”

“He’s my best friend,” Kai broke into a big smile.  Oh, my friend is absolutely obsessed with Beomgyu,  Soobin remembered him saying. He looked at Taehyun with new eyes and realized where he knew him from. 

“Taehyun. Kang Taehyun?”

“You know  him,  too?” Yeonjun groaned in disbelief. 

Soobin nodded. “He’s from District 7. He and Beomgyu were best friends. I never thought I’d see you again.”

Taehyun’s big eyes lit up, and Soobin wondered how he hadn’t made the connection earlier. Soobin hadn’t known Taehyun all that well, but if he was still the same Taehyun that Beomgyu had admired so, then there was no way he would betray them.

Gently, Soobin took Yeonjun’s hand in his own, and there was no need for words. When Soobin squeezed his hand, he knew that Yeonjun understood him plainly. Taehyun and Kai could be trusted, and they needed their help to get Beomgyu to the end of the Games.

Soobin could tell that Yeonjun still had reservations about working with a Gamemaker, but nevertheless, he asked, “Okay, what are they planning?”

“Before I tell you, there’s something else you need to know,” Taehyun paused and lowered his voice. “Snow asked me to rig the Games for Beomgyu.”

All three of them, even Kai, wore matching masks of shock. 

“Why would he do that?” Yeonjun voiced what they were all thinking.

“He said he wants a victor that he could control. Since he couldn’t control you.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened when Taehyun addressed him. 

“Beomgyu would never let Snow control him. I know he wouldn’t,” Soobin insisted.

“That’s what I told Snow.” For the first time, Taehyun’s face fell. “And then he said he would make Beomgyu cooperate. If he doesn’t do what Snow says, he’ll have me killed.” 

Soobin’s mind went completely blank. 

Surprisingly, it was Kai who spoke first. “What can we do?”

“Nothing, we can’t let Beomgyu die.”

“But we can’t let  you  die either.”

“First, we help Beomgyu win. Then we’ll figure something out,” Yeonjun promised.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m letting them use my brother as a puppet. And Taehyun, I won’t let them do anything to hurt you.”

But even Soobin thought his own words sounded hollow. Getting Beomgyu through the Games was hard enough, but still doable. How could the 4 of them save him when he was under Snow’s thumb? 

Soobin looked up, and no one, not even Yeonjun, met his eyes. None of them had any faith that they could get out of this.

Chapter Text

Beep beep beep.  The noise set Beomgyu on edge, drawing his axe out to face the threat. His arms protested, and his whole body ached from being on guard for so long. He lost track of time since his fight with Cherry. Had it been hours or days ago?

The sound came closer, and Beomgyu tracked it, still not sure what to make of it. As it neared him, he realized it was coming from above. He looked up and saw the familiar silver parachute, this time holding a long thin package. Unexpectedly, the parachute stopped right in front of Beomgyu. Beomgyu shushed the parachute, but it kept beeping its incessant beep. He unclipped the package from the silver parachute and cast it aside. 

He tore into the package and pulled out what seemed at first to be a very long spear. Why would Yeonjun send him a spear when the only weapon he’d ever succeeded with was an axe? A note fluttered out of the box, and he picked it up, hoping it would give him answers.

Come home - YJ

Except next to Yeonjun’s signature was a crude drawing of a little bee. 

Beomgyu examined his gift again. If Taehyun was involved, there had to be something more to it. As he looked down the sides of it, he saw 4 long rectangular outlines–2 on each side–and a button in the middle of all of them. He pressed it and almost threw the spear down in surprise. Out of the 4 outlines sprung what looked to be wings made out of light material. 

A glider? Why would they send him that? He’d seen them used before but didn’t have any firsthand experience himself. He pressed the button to retract the wings and held tight to the spear, only planning to use it as a weapon.

Too antsy to relax, Beomgyu holstered his axe and paced around, practicing maneuvers with the spear. He thrust it forward, piercing the air. He tried to twirl it around in his hands in the cool way he’d seen in previous Games, but it just spun out of his hand and onto the ground. He tested out a few more tricks but found himself equally unsuccessful in those endeavors. He even tried throwing it, but it landed 5 feet to the right of the tree he was aiming for. 

Night fell sooner than usual, and Beomgyu knew he was not the only one longing for this ordeal to be over. He no longer had any concept of time, no longer knew how many days he’d been in the Arena. It felt as though the life before this miserable place was nothing more than a daydream he invented to distract himself from the horrors he’d seen. 

With the darkness came the all too familiar tune of Panem’s anthem, but no faces stared down at him from the sky. Okay, so it had at least been a day since Cherry’s death. That left him, Summit, Griffin, Thora, and Pax. 

All was still for a singular discrete moment after the song faded out. Then a scream ripped the night open. 

Beomgyu jumped, clutching his spear and holding it out in a defensive stance as he searched for the source of the sound. 

A scream came again, different from the first one. That was a scream of fear, but this was a deep, guttural scream of pure pain. It was so loud it felt like it was coming from everywhere in the Arena, and Beomgyu couldn’t pinpoint a location. The scream only stopped when the cannon fired. A roar echoed in response. 

Beomgyu scurried up the nearest tree, looking for both safety and a vantage point. Only from up here could he see what caused the screams. 

A large scaly creature, at least twice the size of Beomgyu, stomped around on its 4 legs, fresh blood still dripping from its twisted smile. And it wasn’t alone. Beomgyu caught sight of at least 3 more as they slinked away to find the other tributes. 

This one, however, was in no hurry. Already partially satiated, it took its time. It opened its mouth wide, almost as if it was yawning, and Beomgyu got a good look at the rows and rows of sharp ivory teeth awaiting him. It then arched its back in a lazy stretch, and two large wings unfurled out from where they were tucked.

Shit. These fuckers could  fly . 

The glider aspect of his spear made sense now, and Beomgyu cursed himself for not taking the time to practice it. 

Each wing was almost as large as the creature itself and was highly textured with scales of its own. Beomgyu understood how he hadn’t noticed them at first.

Beomgyu didn’t have time to wonder at what kind of sick person dreamt these monsters up because the one in front of him was now hovering off the ground, flapping its wings in big swooping motions. It sniffed the air once and immediately started flying towards Beomgyu’s hiding spot. He deployed the glider and jumped, resting his feet on two wooden pegs near the bottom and holding on to a wooden bar under the top set of wings. 

As soon as he jumped, he started to plummet. He had no idea how to work this thing and a very short amount of time to figure it out. He tried to steer, twisting his body this way and that, but the glider did nothing but slow his fall. He landed hard but softer than he would’ve without the glider’s assistance. 

He looked up to find the creature momentarily dazed by his sudden disappearance, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. He took off in a sprint with no care for where he was going. As he ran, he heard the sounds of the other tributes struggling against their own creatures. Beomgyu didn’t dare to look behind him. He didn’t want to know how fast these things could fly or how good of trackers they were. He just kept running, hoping pathetically that the creature would just give up. 

Beomgyu ran until he came to a small clearing, past which the world just seemed to drop off. There was grass and rocks and seedlings and then nothing at all. He’d reached the edge of the Arena. A plan started to form in his head. He picked up a rock and threw it at the end of the world. It hit a forcefield, a much stronger one than the previous one he’d encountered. The rock disintegrated on impact, leaving behind nothing but dust. His plan solidified.

One glance told him the creature was right behind him. He would only have one chance to get this right.

Beomgyu clamored up a tree, this time much taller than the one he’d just jumped out of. He hoped and prayed that he could somehow pull this off with little to no glider expertise. He waited until the creature was right behind him, and then, once again, he jumped. This time, however, he jumped out instead of down, and the difference was stunning. It wasn’t true flight; he was flying in the way flying squirrels flew, which is to say, not at all, but he was  gliding . Each second in the air brought him closer to the ground, but he had control this time, and he’d chosen a tall enough tree that his fall would be long enough to account for his plan. 

Beomgyu looked back to make sure the creature was still in pursuit. Sure enough, the creature’s hungry eyes were fixated on Beomgyu’s every move as it trailed behind him. 

Beomgyu couldn’t help but smirk. “Here, boy!” he taunted the creature. Somehow it must have understood him because it was now so close Beomgyu could feel its hot breath on his feet. 

Fixing his attention back on the world in front of him, Beomgyu was gaining speed and barreling towards the forcefield. He fixed his grip on the wooden bar and stayed the course, getting closer and closer to that lethal barrier. 

“Come on, Beomgyu,” he whispered to himself in a weak attempt at a pep talk. And then, only seconds away from the forcefield, he clicked the button to close the glider and began free falling. He fell straight down, careful not to flail so much as to accidentally touch the barrier. He landed with just enough time to look overhead and watching the dazzling collision as the creature, who realized too late what Beomgyu was up to, slammed directly into the forcefield. It was like watching the rock’s disintegration on a massive scale. Showers of sparks and dust rained down, and a giant ripple made its way across the rest of the forcefield. 

Using his glider-spear to help him up, Beomgyu surveyed the scene. He could hardly believe his plan had actually worked. He made his way back to the woods he’d been hiding out in before if only to find out the fates of the other creatures and tributes. Every noise made him jump, as he expected another animal to jump out at him at any given time. 

It was a long time until he came across anything of interest. He came to a stop when the sounds of choking and gurgling become as loud as his own breathing. Hiding behind a tree, he analyzed the situation. The first thing he noticed was Thora, the girl from 11, laying motionless on the ground. He must’ve missed her cannon while taking down the first creature. Next to her, equally still, was another of the mutts. It was almost an exact replica of the one that had chased Beomgyu, except this one was peppered with arrows down its scaly back and one particular one on its head that seemed to have dealt the fatal blow. 

Near the bodies was the source of the choking Beomgyu had heard. Summit was trapped in the mouth of a creature, and its teeth sunk into his stomach. He was still alive and struggling, as blood bubbled up from his mouth and he gagged on it. He seemed to notice Beomgyu watching him and choked out what was meant to be Beomgyu’s name but came out as more of a gurgle. Beomgyu just stared at Summit from the safety of his hiding spot as both the fight and life drained out of him. 

When the cannon fired, and the monster discarded Summit’s body, Beomgyu jumped into action. He leaped from his hiding spot and landed directly on the creature’s back. The beast bucked and writhed in an attempt to throw Beomgyu off, but he held firm. He used his knees to pin down the creature’s desperately flapping wings and raised his spear high. In one swift, decisive moment, he drove the spear through the creature’s head. He braced himself for the splatter of blood and gore, but where the creature’s brain should’ve been was nothing but machinery. It was just another reminder that nothing around him was real.

He rolled off the creature’s back, sufficiently worn out, dreaming of nothing but a long sleep. But as he got up, a low whistle called out to him.

He turned around to see Pax leaning against a tree, his arms folded across his chest. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” Pax observed. 

As if on cue, a disembodied voice spoke. “People of Panem, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for! The moment when a Tribute becomes a Victor!”

Beomgyu squared his shoulders, ready for a fight.

Chapter Text

Beomgyu didn’t dare to move first. That would give up his plan of attack. Or the fact that he had none. At the moment, Pax was weaponless, but Beomgyu knew better than to underestimate him. 

Sure enough, within moments, Pax retrieved his trusty trident from where he’d stashed it and stalked toward Beomgyu. He could’ve sworn he saw a glint in his eye before he made his first strike. 

_____

Soobin watched, breathless. They’d rushed home quickly and switched on the TV as soon as they burst through the door. Soobin had to admit it, the Gamemakers were clever for staging the final fight during prime time. All across the country, families would be gathering in the living room or settling in for dinner in front of their television set. Soobin himself had not yet eaten dinner or anything all day, for that matter, but that wasn’t what caused the awful twist in his stomach. 

Pax lunged, jabbing at Beomgyu with his trident. Beomgyu ducked and deflected the next attack with an expertise Soobin wished he’d never had to learn. 

Soobin nearly jumped when Yeonjun sat down next to him. For once, the other boy’s presence brought him no comfort.

_____

Beomgyu was starting to regret his decision to let Pax attack first. Because now Pax was on the offensive, and Beomgyu was always one step behind. He could only defend himself, bringing up the shaft of his spear to meet Pax’s trident. He needed to knock Pax off his balance so he could actually get some blows in, but Pax was rock solid. And Beomgyu, his energy already spent from dealing with the mutts, was fading with each passing second. 

_____

For the first time since his meeting with Snow, Taehyun was powerless to help Beomgyu. Snow didn’t have to explicitly say it for Taehyun to know that no one was supposed to know about their little deal. Which meant he had to be discreet. Not to mention the Head Gamemaker turned off all their controls. 

“Sometimes, the real drama is better than anything we could make up. The best entertainers know when to take a step back and let things play out.”

So even if Taehyun was ready to risk everything to ensure Beomgyu’s win, the black screen on his desk wouldn’t allow him to. 

And as Pax knocked Beomgyu down with the end of his trident, Taehyun could do nothing but watch.

_____

Beomgyu landed hard enough to see stars. On his hands and knees, he backed away from Pax as he closed in on him. Not for the first time, Beomgyu considered just giving in. Giving up. His tired, over-exerted limbs wanted nothing but to just lay down forever. But his body was nowhere as weary as his mind. After all he’d seen, all he’d experienced, the lives he’d taken, he wanted nothing but the sweet release of oblivion. It would certainly be easier than the world waiting for him outside this Arena. And easier than facing the newly-minted demons within himself. 

Beomgyu was at peace with his decision, ready to succumb when he remembered something he said to Yeonjun right before the Games started.

“I’m heading back to District 7 tomorrow. To check on your families and see how they’re doing. Is there anything you want me to say to them?”

“Tell them I’ll see them in a few days.”

Beomgyu didn’t care if he was a quitter. He had no shame in that. But he would never break a promise.

He drove the sharp end of his spear into the ground and used it to pull himself up. He yanked it out again and brandished it at Pax, ready to take control of this fight.

“Finally, I thought you were never going to fight back,” Pax taunted.

He thrust the spear forward and narrowly missed Pax. He wasted no time, trying again as soon as he saw that his first attack failed. He jammed his spear into Pax’s stomach and twisted. This seemed to bother Pax as much as a bug bite. He simply removed the weapon from his torso and discarded it like a dirty napkin. 

Beomgyu was about to retrieve his spear when Pax did something peculiar. He stuck his finger into his wound, and when it came out bloody, he stuck it into his own mouth and sucked on it. With a smile. 

Beomgyu wasn’t just fighting a boy. He was fighting a monster. 

He had to do everything he could to make sure the monster didn’t win. He scrambled for the spear. 

This time, when he attacked, Beomgyu swung his spear like a bat, aiming to hit Pax hard enough to incapacitate him and give himself time to arm himself with his true weapon. 

Pax was ready. He intercepted Beomgyu’s spear, catching it between the prongs of his trident. With a quick upward motion, he sent the thing flying far behind him.

Beomgyu grabbed for the axe at his side, but it felt like he was moving in slow motion. His fingers fumbled getting the axe out of his belt and, against his instincts, he had to turn away from Pax to unclip his weapon. 

It was then that he felt three sharp prongs bury themselves in his side. 

_____

Soobin could feel a phantom pain in his own side, like he and Beomgyu were one entity, sharing breaks and bruises. He clenched his fist against his thigh until the bite of his fingernails on his soft flesh grounded him in reality again. 

He wiped away the tears collecting in his eyes so he could watch the television with clear vision.

_____

For a short, blissful moment, Beomgyu couldn’t feel anything. This is nice, he thought. Maybe death isn’t so bad.

_____

Taehyun stood up so quickly his chair clattered to the ground. Over a dozen pairs of eyes, previously glued to the screen, turned to glare at him.

“Bathroom,” he managed to choke out before fleeing the room.

In the hallway, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. With his head in his hands, he took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. His heartbeat slowed, but he wasn’t feeling calm. Just empty.

After a few minutes passed, longer than the average bathroom break, he knew he should go back inside, but he couldn’t.

Taehyun couldn’t bring himself to watch Beomgyu die.

_____

When his feeling returned, the pain was searing, blinding. Beomgyu closed his eyes, and all he could see was red. The sounds of the forest–the birds chirping and the leaves crunching–winked out, replaced by his own ragged breathing and someone else’s maniacal laughter.

Beomgyu’s first horrifying, bone-chilling thought was that he was in Hell, and the devil was laughing at him. But then he became very aware of the sensation of warm blood spreading across his side. He caught a whiff of the accompanying scent of copper and knew he wasn’t dead. Yet.

Forcing his eyes open, Beomgyu took in the scene before him. Pax was the source of the laughter, not the devil. Though Beomgyu wasn’t sure the two were all that different. Pax stood back, clutching his stomach as if he’d laughed so much to injure it. He didn’t even check if Beomgyu was dead. Maybe he didn’t care. 

Adrenaline, blind rage, or whatever you want to call it, came over Beomgyu. It was a combination of self-preservation and pure hatred. He retrieved his axe and started swinging. Pax, who was still laughing, was wholly unprepared. The blow landed on his side, and Beomgyu could hear a crunch upon impact. But Pax recovered quickly.

Beomgyu kept swinging with no care to aim. He just put his full power behind each swing and hoped he would make contact. Pax used his trident to try to block each of Beomgyu’s strikes, but Beomgyu was using so much force it didn’t even matter. He easily knocked the trident aside, leaving Pax defenseless. 

With nothing in his way, Beomgyu was unstoppable. Pax tried fruitlessly to fend him off, but his bare fists were no match for Beomgyu’s axe. He first smashed the forearm Pax held up to protect himself, both cringing at and relishing in the sound of bones cracking. Pax let out a howl of pain, but Beomgyu didn’t let up. He next aimed for Pax’s chest, wanting to end this quickly. Pax managed to step to the side at the right moment, and Beomgyu hit his shoulder instead of his chest. But the force of the blow was enough to knock Pax to the ground.

Beomgyu stood over Pax, his axe raised high above his head, and took one long deep breath. And brought it down with crushing finality. Pax went out with a whimper, not a bang. And Beomgyu realized he was wrong. Pax was no monster; he was just like him. A boy forced to do monstrous things to survive. 

Beomgyu dropped his axe and held his head in his hands. Finally, after a long stretch of time, the cannon fired. 

“Citizens of Panem, I present to you, the winner of the 67th Hunger Games, Choi Beomgyu of District 7!”

When Beomgyu looked up to meet the camera’s gaze, his cheeks were tear-soaked.

____

When the winner is announced, the people of Panem gasp in shock, cheer in awe, and, for a select few in the heart of District 4, cry in disappointment. But in the Capitol, 4 boys breathe a sigh of relief, and yet, they know it’s not over. 

Chapter Text

Beomgyu awoke in a brightly lit room atop a rectangular examination table. His skin felt raw, like several layers of it had been peeled off. When he sat up, he felt nothing. A shocking lack of pain. He slid his hand down under his hospital gown to examine his first wound, a souvenir of his misplaced trust in a stranger. It was so patched up that Beomgyu thought for a moment he had the spot wrong. But then he noticed a slight raise in the skin that indicated this was the right spot, and somehow he’d been almost completely healed. He then turned his attention to his newer wound. In his side were 3 sets of stitches, and, running his finger over them, he could tell they were intricate. He applied a slight pressure, preparing to wince, but again, nothing.

“Yes, our healers do quite remarkable work.” A voice noted.

Beomgyu jumped and yanked his hand from his side. He was under the impression that he was alone.

“Sorry, it was not my intention to startle you. Especially after all you’ve been through.” The voice was void of any sincerity.

Beomgyu turned to face President Snow, who was sitting in a corner, his iconic white beard hidden in shadow. 

“Mr. President. I-I wasn’t expecting you,” Beomgyu stammered. “To what do I owe this honor?” It took everything Beomgyu had to keep a straight face as he said it.

Snow leaned forward, revealing his whole face. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry, Choi Beomgyu, I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your victory. Your performance was quite impressive. I must say I am pleased to see that it was you who won.”

“Uh, thank you. Sir,” Beomgyu gulped.

“Rest up,” Snow instructed. “You’ll want to be at your best for your crowd of admirers. But never fear, I have a feeling you and I are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.” Beomgyu hoped that last sentence wasn’t true.

Beomgyu spent two more days in that bright room, wavering in and out of consciousness, both due to the drugs administered to him and his own exhaustion. He found that sleeping was much easier than being awake. If he was asleep, he didn’t have to think. And thinking brought him to dark places.

At the end of these two groggy, delirious days, he was rewarded with a familiar face.

“Yeonjun?” Beomgyu asked.

He was still halfway across the room, but Beomgyu would recognize that blue hair–freshly redyed, Beomgyu noticed–anywhere. Yeonjun’s smile faltered. “Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.”

“Sorry,” Beomgyu shook his head, “I was just surprised. What are you doing here?”

“I’m busting you out of here!” 

Beomgyu waited a beat, not sure if this was a joke or not.

“Okay, okay, you’ve been released, and I’m here to take you back to the Tribute Center.”

“Back to the Tribute Center?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun sighed. “You’ve got your first public appearance in a couple days.”

“First? I thought I could go home. I  want  to go home.”

“I know, I know, but it’s all part of the charade. First the Victory Celebration, you know when Snow crowns you and all that-”

Beomgyu shuddered at the sound of Snow’s name, recalling their ominous conversation.

“-and then your interview with Caesar-”

“When do I actually get to go home?” Beomgyu demanded.

Yeonjun looked directly into Beomgyu’s eyes with both pity and sympathy in his expression. “About a week.” 

“Well,” Beomgyu pushed himself off the table, “we better get going then? The sooner we start, the sooner it’s over.”

Yeonjun turned around while Beomgyu changed into real clothes. Once he was done, he started to lead the way when Beomgyu asked, “Hey, no offense, but shouldn’t someone else be doing this?”

Yeonjun clutched his chest in a gesture of mock offense, “What you don’t think I can handle this?”

“No, it’s just-”

“No, it’s alright. Honestly, they sent me for the photo op. Two victors from District 7 in two back-to-back Games… it’s a big deal, and everyone wants to see us together.”

“People really care about that?”

“They do here. You get used to it,” Yeonjun paused, “kind of. Well, you’ll see.” And Yeonjun opened the door.

Almost immediately, Beomgyu was blinded by the flashes of hundreds of cameras. With his sight compromised, he picked up the excited screams of the crowd. 

“Wave and smile,” Yeonjun instructed through gritted teeth.

Beomgyu did as instructed, but it was difficult with all these people around him. The velvet rope separating them from the crowd was flimsy, and people were pressing in on all sides. Beomgyu was relieved when they were safely inside the monorail that would take them to the other side of the Capitol.

“What? Victors don’t get security detail?”

“I guess they think we can fight them off,” Yeonjun mused.

They both laughed weakly, but the truth of the statement haunted them. 

The ride back to the Tribute Center was quiet, giving Beomgyu time for what he dreaded most. Thinking.

His thoughts didn’t come in the form of words, though he wished they would’ve. Words are cold, impersonal. You can pretend they don’t have any meaning. No, his thoughts were a morbid slideshow. Flashes of moments ran through his head. Ryujin, laughing during training, immediately followed by her pleading gaze as she begged him to kill her. The look of fear on Cherry’s face as the water took her under. Summit, Jupiter, Pax. Everyone he thought was a monster, followed by pictures of the moment he realized they were just like him. 

His mind showed him images he wasn’t even sure were real. And images that were completely fabricated, and yet they hurt worse. Ryujin’s family sobbing for their loss, refusing to meet Beomgyu’s eyes. His own parents, terrified of the horror they’d raised. Soobin locking himself in his room so he could avoid seeing Beomgyu ever again. 

And then Beomgyu saw himself. He viewed his memories from a third-person view, the same way the people of Panem must’ve watched him. He saw himself huddled inside a tree, cold and miserable. He watched as he demolished Jupiter, losing touch with his humanity and giving in to everything he hated. 

He was glad to be escorted off the train to the same suite he’d stayed in prior to the Games. The familiar dining room table presented a wide array of food, and Beomgyu took the liberty to stuff himself. Clearly, the healers had kept him nourished somehow, but he had no idea when he last ate. 

He was halfway through his third plate when Yeonjun sat down across from him. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

With his mouth still full of food, Beomgyu just gestured something that he hoped Yeonjun would understand as “Go ahead.” 

“How are you?” Yeonjun asked. 

“Fine.”

“I know you’re not.”

Beomgyu bit back any snappy remarks he had planned. He knew they wouldn’t phase Yeonjun. And he also knew that shutting people out wouldn’t make his feelings go away.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Yeonjun asked.

“Move on. Return to life like none of it ever happened.”

“Are you kidding? Everything around me is a reminder. Just me being here, talking to you right now, is because of my time in the Games.”

“But you seem so fine.”

“Only because I have to. Because that’s what’s safest for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“What we’ve been through… it upsets people. And the last thing he wants is people sympathizing with us. It’s better if everyone thinks we’re doing fine.”

“Snow.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Snow,” Yeonjun nodded in agreement. 

“So you’re not okay?” Beomgyu treaded carefully. 

Yeonjun huffed out a laugh, “No. And I don’t think I ever will be. I know that’s not what you want to hear. But it does get better.”

Beomgyu, steeped in nothing but despair and darkness, wasn’t sure if he believed this platitude. “How?”

“Time. It doesn’t heal, but it does help. And you have to find the people you can be real with. You need people who’ll listen. Not try to fix you, just listen,” Yeonjun looked away wistfully like he had someone specific in mind.

Beomgyu thought of his own family, but their images were still tainted by the distorted versions of them his brain had conjured. The ones where they cowered away from him like he was some animal that escaped captivity. No, instead, he thought inexplicably of Taehyun. Maybe it was because of his mysterious help in the Games, or the almost anonymity granted to them by years and years apart, but Beomgyu thought Taehyun could be the one who listened.

“How’s my family doing?” Beomgyu asked in an attempt to both change the subject and stop himself from thinking about Taehyun. 

Yeonjun looked a little startled like Beomgyu had intruded in on his thoughts. He took a moment to respond with, “Your parents were about as good as they could be, considering the circumstances. They’re probably better now, though. And Soobin’s been so helpful and supportive this whole time.”

“This whole time?’

Yeonjun’s eyes went wide like he’d said too much. “I mean, I assume he has. He seems like a good kid.” A deep blush crept into his cheeks.

“Yeonjun, I’m not stupid.”

Yeonjun blinked several times before saying, “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

Beomgyu didn’t even know who he would tell, but he nodded all the same.

“Soobin is here. In the Capitol.” 

Beomgyu blinked, trying to process the information. 

“What?” He lowered his voice, “Is that even legal?”

“I didn’t want him to come, but he kind of… stowed away.”

“Stowed away? Soobin?” This was so incongruous with everything Beomgyu knew about Soobin that he almost thought Yeonjun had confused his brother with someone else. “And he’s still here?” Beomgyu’s voice rose higher, both eager and anxious to learn more about his brother’s activities.

Yeonjun nodded.

“Can I see him? Take me to him.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Yeonjun. I’m not asking. I need to see my brother.”

Yeonjun sighed. “Okay, but I should warn you, he’s with some other people right now.”

Beomgyu instantly knew he was referring to Taehyun. “I don’t mind.” 

Hours later, Beomgyu wasn’t sure what Yeonjun did or said, but somehow, he had managed to get them a ride out of the Tribute Center to wherever Soobin was staying. Alone, with no goons from the Capitol breathing down their necks.

They arrived at a house so big the word mansion wasn’t enough to describe its size.

“Soobin’s staying here?”

“We, uh, have some wealthy friends.”

Beomgyu swallowed his words as he followed Yeonjun through the labyrinthine halls. With each step he got closer to Soobin, his nerves mounted. What would he say? What would he do? 

All those doubts and questions evaporated the moment Yeonjun escorted him through the final door, and he laid eyes on his brother. As if by instinct, he ran up and joined Soobin in a long, tearful hug. 

“I always knew you would make it,” Soobin said through sobs. “I never had any doubts.”

Beomgyu knew no words could sum up what he felt, how much he missed Soobin, how much he needed his presence now. He relished in the solidness of his embrace, the comfort of his corporeal form, and how it confirmed this moment was real. He was real. It was really over. Beomgyu was safe and in the arms of his brother. There was no need to fear waking up in the Arena after a blissfully realistic dream.

Beomgyu tried to pull back, but Soobin tightened his grip around him. It seemed he, too, needed to bask in this moment.

“I missed you. It’s good to be back,” the words felt weak to Beomgyu, even as they tumbled out of his mouth. But Soobin had always been better with words and feelings than Beomgyu, and he knew his brother would understand what he meant.

Their embrace was interrupted by a soft cough and followed by a much louder “Kai, SHHH!”

“Who was that?” Beomgyu suddenly felt very jumpy.

“Sorry, our new friends are kind of nosy. You guys can come out now,” Soobin called out.

Two boys emerged from behind a corner, both of their faces pink-tinged from being caught. The first was lanky with bouncy black curls and a boyish face. The other was- 

“Taehyun,” Beomgyu whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

“We’ll give you two some time to catch up,” Soobin said, grabbing Yeonjun by the wrist and insisting that the other boy follow them out of the room. 

“Hi,” Beomgyu focused on tucking his hands into his pockets, so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Taehyun. 

“Hi,” Taehyun parroted back to him. An awkward silence settled over the two. The weight of everything between them was palpable. 

“Uh, thank you,” Beomgyu finally said. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I would be here right now. You saved my life. Multiple times.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“So that’s what we are? Friends, I mean.” 

Beomgyu wondered if Taehyun’s blush was mirrored in his own cheeks. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?”

Beomgyu had to stop himself from unloading all the thoughts he’d had about Taehyun ever since he saw him that day in the Training Center. He was torn between relief, anger, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“Well, you kind of disappeared. One day we’re riding our bikes home from school, and the next day you’re gone. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And then, after years of trying to forget you, you show up here of all places. On  their  side. How could you?” Beomgyu heard his voice rise in spite of himself.

“Beomgyu, I thought- I  helped  you. You just said I saved you.”

“You were only able to do that because you were on their side in the first place,” Beomgyu mumbled. “Did you forget what it’s like? Living in the districts? Living every day in fear that you’d step too far out of line? Did you forget the Reapings? What it’s like to watch people you know, people you love line up to get slaughtered?”

Beomgyu looked up to see Taehyun wiping away tears, and suddenly his anger waned, his resolve weakened. There was still more he wanted to say, but he no longer had the nerve. Beomgyu had never been as confused about his own feelings as he was right now in Taehyun’s presence. 

“I’m sorry,” Taehyun choked out. “I never forgot, I promise. Sometimes I tried to, to make it easier, but I never could. I never could forget about you. But I did what I had to do to survive. I was already different, being from the districts. I had to blend in, become one of them. And I hate myself for it, but it’s what I had to do. But that’s done now. I refuse to let them use me again.”

Beomgyu realized that he was also crying. He wasn’t sure when that had happened, but now the hot streaks of tears running down his face were hard to ignore. 

Taehyun–who had always been more touchy-feely when they were kids–pulled him into a tentative hug. It was slow and loose enough that Beomgyu could tell he was giving him the opportunity to pull away at any moment, but Beomgyu didn’t want to. He should hate Taehyun with every cell in his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to. And he had a suspicion it wasn’t just because Taehyun had saved his life.

Beomgyu held on tight, for some reason not quite ready to let Taehyun out of the hug yet. “So,” he said, his volume barely above a whisper, “that bee thing was pretty weird, huh?”

Taehyun pulled away to let out a loud, howling laugh. Beomgyu wondered if it was mainly just nervous laughter, because what he said really wasn’t that funny.

“Listen,” Taehyun defended himself, “I needed to talk to you, and I couldn’t get caught, so I had to get creative.”

“Oh, it was definitely creative,” Beomgyu agreed. 

“Hey, it still worked!”

For a moment, they fell into silence again, and it was only slightly less awkward than the one before.

“So you had a crush on me?” Taehyun blurted out like this is what he’d wanted to ask all along. And then, as if realizing what he’d just said, his eyes widened, and his whole face turned red.

“What?”

“Uh, I heard you talking to Ryujin in the Games. About the valentine. I still have it, you know.”

Beomgyu just nodded, unsure of what to say and unsure of how the conversation had even come to this. Luckily, as if on cue, the other three returned to the room and saved him from responding. Beomgyu and Taehyun jumped apart even though they weren’t even standing that close.

The unfamiliar boy strolled right up to Beomgyu and stuck his hand out. “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Huening Kai. Or just Kai, I don’t really care. I went to school with Taehyun, and this is my house.” Beomgyu thought that only raised more questions than it answered, but he was too focused on something he saw out of the corner of his eye.

Yeonjun and Soobin were  holding hands .

“Uh, what’s going on with you two?” Beomgyu asked.

Kai responded before anyone else. “Oh yeah, they’re  together ,” he said the last word with the same sort of disdain schoolchildren have when they see people kissing. Beomgyu decided right then that he liked this kid.

“And they’re terribly annoying about it,” Taehyun chimed in. “And we’ve only known them for a few days!”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Beomgyu asked Soobin.

“It wasn’t the right time! But we were going to tell you, I swear!” Soobin insisted. “You’re not mad, right?”

“Honestly, I’m not even surprised.” Beomgyu turned to Yeonjun, “Now if you break his heart,” he said in a mock angry voice before dissolving into giggles.

The rest joined in, but Yeonjun still seemed nervous that Beomgyu would deliver on his threat.

“Wow,” Beomgyu said once he collected himself. “It’s good to be back. I’m glad this whole thing is over.”

An eerie silence fell over the group.

“Actually,” Yeonjun started, “it’s not quite yet.”

“Well yeah, sure there’s the Victory Celebration, but how bad can that be?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Snow’s blackmailing Taehyun,” Soobin cut in bluntly.

“What? Is that true?”

Taehyun swallowed. “Yes. He wants a victor he can control. He told me to rig the Games for you so you can be that victor for him.” Beomgyu opened his mouth to protest, but Taehyun continued, “He knows you would listen because if you don’t, he’ll kill me.”

Beomgyu’s anger flared up again. “So what? I just get to be Snow’s puppet for the rest of my life?”

“No, we won’t let that happen,” Soobin said firmly.

“Well, it’s not like we have much of a choice.”

“Actually,” Yeonjun repeated, this time with a smug smile on his face, “we have a plan.”

Chapter Text

Soobin wished he had been given a much cooler assignment. Or rather, an assignment at all. As much as he understood the gravity of their situation, he couldn’t help but feel like they were pulling off some exciting, daring heist. Well, everyone but him. Soobin had one job: hide in the train until everyone else boarded, and they set off for home. 

They had all agreed that if stowing away worked on the way up to the Capitol, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t work on the way home. Soobin had tried his best to look agreeable, but Yeonjun had cast him a pitying glance, knowing that in comparison to everyone else’s, his job wasn’t very fun. 

Soobin’s only comfort was that Yeonjun’s assignment wasn’t all that either. You see, Yeonjun and Kai were the only ones of their group that were doing exactly what they were supposed to do. As Beomgyu’s mentor, Yeonjun was meant to be in the Capitol, and now that the Games were over, his job was done. In theory, Beomgyu still had to make public appearances, but at this point, he was trusted to do all this without Yeonjun’s guidance. The powers that be had booked a train back to District 7 right after the Victory Celebration. All Yeonjun had to do was escort Beomgyu through the festivities, and then he was free to go. Soobin just envied that he wasn’t cooped up in this train the whole day. His back was starting to ache from being curled up in a little ball for so long.

As he started to sweat, Soobin discarded his jacket to the side. He then quickly stretched out his back and returned to his hiding spot, where he would wait until Yeonjun returned and gave him the signal. He just hoped the others were having a better time than he was.

_____

Taehyun turned the plan over and over again in his head, counting all the ways it could go wrong. And boy, were there a lot. Huening Kai could mess up the timing, someone could spot Beomgyu, Taehyun could miss the train. And those were just the little things. Taehyun shuddered to think of what would happen if they were caught. 

Taehyun slid into his desk and let the feeling of his fingers flying over the keys ease his worries. This part, at least, was easy. Taehyun found every record of himself and simply… erased himself from existence. He pulled up his records from The Academy, his grades, and report cards and switched the names. He even tweaked the grades a bit, just because he could. He made his way to the files from his time as a Gamemaker. Because, of course, today would be his last day with that title. He was surprised to find this information was so easy to access and tamper with. He supposed the threat of death was enough to deter most hackers. But not Taehyun. If all went according to plan, Taehyun wouldn’t be around to punish when he was found out. 

Taehyun double-checked everything he could think existed on him. He even traced back to his days in District 7 and wiped himself from the school records.

Kang Taehyun no longer existed. Terry King now took his place. The name was different enough to make people forget about Kang Taehyun but close enough to make people believe they had simply mixed up a few letters and gotten his name wrong. He didn’t change his parents’ names, just adjusted any form that claimed they had a child. They were now just a couple who had decided having kids wasn’t for them. Taehyun hoped they were smart enough to play along. 

Snow would notice his absence, of course. No amount of hacking could change that. But Taehyun hoped that with a dead victor and a panicked city on his hands, Taehyun would be at the bottom of his priority list.

_____

Beomgyu tried to steel himself for the day ahead of him, but it was quite hard with his stylist, Bee, fussing over every single last strand of hair. As she buzzed around him, he decided her name was quite fitting. Then, he was reminded with a pang of Taehyun’s bee in the Arena. Of what he had done to keep Beomgyu alive and what it all meant now. 

Beomgyu shook the thoughts out of his head. The last thing he needed today was to get distracted by Taehyun. After today, he would have the rest of his life to ponder over Taehyun’s big, beautiful eyes or the way his laugh sounded like the flutter of fairy wings. 

Instead, he turned his attention to his outfit. Evidently, Bee had stepped up her game. On top, he wore a navy blue vest over a white silk button-up. The button-up was so big and loose that it hung low under the vest. Over all that was a long coat, just a shade brighter than his navy blue vest. It was studded with a silver floral pattern that glinted in the light. His pants were made of a thin, sheer mesh-like material that made Beomgyu feel quite self-conscious. Saving his modesty were large patches of embroidered white flowers, the same kind that adorned his jacket. They ran up and down the pants, covering up most of his legs and other parts, leaving only bits of his thigh and calves exposed by the sheer paneling. 

Beomgyu checked and double-checked, and thankfully, no matter how he stood, sat, or stretched, the patches of flowers kept him covered. He wasn’t sure why he cared, the whole country had probably watched him relieve himself on multiple occasions while he was in the Games, but still, he longed for the return of his privacy.

Bee bustled out of the room, returned with a white rose, and quickly began pinning it to his lapel.

“Um,” Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Sorry to be a bother, but I was wondering if I could get a different pair of pants. Because, well…” Beomgyu gestured to the sheer fabric.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” Bee pulled her mouth into a frown, “but President Snow picked this out especially for you, and between you and me both, I value my job and my head too much to go against his orders,” she said, before returning her attention to the white rose. The flower caught Beomgyu’s attention too, and once Bee stepped away, and Beomgyu took a good look in the mirror, his eyes drifted to the flowers on his coat. Not just flowers, but roses. White roses. Like the ones Snow always wore. Beomgyu was covered in them from head to toe as they swirled across his jacket and bloomed all over his trousers. 

Snow had deliberately made sure that almost every inch of Beomgyu adorned his signature symbol. For what? To show Panem who was really in control? To show Beomgyu that? Suddenly, the sheer pants made sense too. Snow wanted to make Beomgyu uncomfortable. He wanted to watch him squirm simply because he could. And perhaps to give Beomgyu a taste of what his future would be like. A reminder that Snow controlled his every action, word, and even feeling.

Not for long , Beomgyu thought with a smirk. And, just because he could, he ruffled up the rose on his lapel. He could send signals too.

All too soon and yet not soon enough, Beomgyu was escorted to the Victory Ceremony. Or rather, behind it, as he waited in the shadows, as people filed in, waiting for the event to start.

“Hey,” a voice called. Beomgyu nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Yeonjun said. “You nervous?”

“Oh no, not at all, just a typical day. Not like the rest of my life depends on how today goes!”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” When Beomgyu rolled his eyes, Yeonjun just ignored him and continued, “You still remember what to do?”

“As if I could forget.”

“Great.” Yeonjun looked deep into Beomgyu’s eyes and said, “See you on the train.”

Like a guarantee. A promise.

“See you on the train,” Beomgyu repeated.

_____

Somehow, this whole plan depended on Huening Kai. The fate of four people, three of which he hadn’t known until mere days ago, rested on him. It was almost enough to make him turn and run. Kai was no stranger to power and influence; no, as a rich kid in the Capitol, that came in spades. But he never cared enough to do anything with that power. 

And now he had the power to blow this whole thing apart. Quite literally.

In truth, the idea of bombs and explosions made him all sorts of squeamish. Lots of things did. That’s why he never watched the Games. Well, that and the fact there was always something better to watch. Some old cartoon or movie that didn’t involve kids murdering each other. 

Even so, once he’d let slip that he’d taken a class on explosives at The Academy, the group had latched onto it as the crux of their plan. 

So that’s how Huening Kai ended up here, sitting in the crowd at the Victory Celebration, his hand hidden in his trouser pocket, his finger hovering over a button. 

The plan was simple, really. Earlier today, he had snuck in and hidden an explosive in the middle of the platform, right where Beomgyu would be crowned Victor. Like everything else, Kai had really excelled at his explosives class, and for his final project he’d created a bomb the size of a thumb pad. No one would even notice it. 

The tricky part was the timing. A moment too late and the blast wouldn’t be near enough to Beomgyu for everyone to be convinced he was dead. A moment too soon and Beomgyu might actually end up dead. He had to wait for the right moment. He could picture it in his head: Snow sitting atop his throne, presiding over the day’s events; the crowd, holding its breath as they waited for the most exciting part of the day; and Beomgyu, slowly making his way towards the center of the platform. Towards the bomb. 

The rest would take over from there. Huening Kai wouldn’t even see them again after today. He would go back to his life, pleased that he had helped his friends escape and that he’d pulled a fast one over President Snow and the whole country. 

All he had to do was press the button.

_____

The crowd had finished filing in, and they were all now waiting eagerly in their seats. They were in the same place that had held the Tribute Parade just a few short weeks ago. Except now, there were no tributes. Just one Victor.

The crowd had mixed reactions when they could finally see Beomgyu. Most were positive: whispers of approval from the older generation, incoherent screams from the younger (“he’s  so  cute!”). Only a small handful of people seemed upset by Beomgyu’s presence and general still-being-alive-ness. This included Capitol folk who bet on the wrong horse and mentors from competing Districts, who weren’t allowed to leave the Capitol until after today’s festivities.

The ceremony had just begun, but it was nearly almost over. The ceremony itself usually only lasts about 10 minutes; the real celebration is all the parties later. Beomgyu was to walk up onto the dais, be crowned as Victor–quite literally, as Snow would place a crown on his head–and Snow would say a few words before dismissing everyone to their own parties. The Capitol threw one itself; later that night, this same venue would be decked out in glittering lights as servants carried around trays of food and people toasted to Beomgyu.

That was all a few short hours away, and it started right now. 

Everyone chattered excitedly as they watched Beomgyu take a deep breath and step towards the center of the dais.

The bomb went off, sending the world into chaos. 

_____

Beomgyu only had moments to react. The blast from the explosion was hot and firey, and he could feel small pieces of debris pelting him. People screamed and cried all around him. The air was thick with black smoke, but Beomgyu could hear the rush of panicked people running about.

The blast was small enough so as not to hurt him but big enough to cause a commotion, allowing him to slip away unnoticed.

He quickly pulled off his jacket and threw it into the budding fire. It was all they would find of him.

Beomgyu made his way down a path behind the stage that Taehyun had told him about beforehand. There, right where Taehyun promised it would be, was a pile of clothing tucked in a shadowy outlet. Beomgyu double-checked to make sure he was alone in this corridor, but Taehyun was right. Very few people knew about this path.

Beomgyu shucked off his sheer, rose-patterned pants, glad to be rid of them. He hoped Taehyun would burn them. He also removed his shirt and slipped into the unassuming uniform Taehyun had stolen for him. He placed the hat on his head and slipped through the tunnel and out of sight.

_____

When Taehyun made his way into the tunnel, the clothes Beomgyu had shed were still warm from his skin. He stuffed them in his bag with his other… items and ran out, towards the blast.

Out here, it was utter chaos. Most people in the Capitol were not good in a crisis, and this scene was evidence of that. People ran in all directions, pushing and shoving in an attempt to get out. Authority figures, like Peacekeepers and members of the President’s Council, tried to restore some sort of order. They climbed on chairs and barked orders, but the citizens were too panicked to listen to them. Snow himself was nowhere to be found, which didn’t surprise Taehyun one bit. Snow was the first to threaten violence but the first to run when any real danger presented itself. 

Heavy, dark smoke was still billowing from the bomb. This was their biggest request of Huening Kai. They wanted a small explosion, one that was unlikely to harm anyone, but a big scene. And enough smoke to cover up what Taehyun had to do. 

He crept closer and closer to the spot where Beomgyu was standing when the bomb went off. He couldn’t see anyone through the thick smoke and knew that meant he was also safe from being spotted. He reached Beomgyu’s spot and scattered the contents of his bag. Beomgyu’s clothes and body parts from a cadaver. An arm, a leg, nothing that could actually be used to identify the body, just enough to make Beomgyu’s death believable. For good measure, he lit a small fire and hoped that the burn marks on the clothes and body parts would add to their credibility. 

Then, as easily as he’d slipped in, he slipped out again, back through the tunnel, toward freedom.

_____

Even Soobin, all the way out here, in the train, could tell when the explosion happened. Not because he could hear the bomb go off, but because he could hear the screams that followed. He could only imagine what the Capitol looked like now, as people tripped over each other trying to escape.

Once the screams started, Soobin starting counting down the minutes until everyone else would arrive. Yeonjun and Beomgyu should be first, with Taehyun following behind several minutes later. 

They’d timed it all out earlier and had estimated that Yeonjun and Beomgyu would arrive about 10 minutes after the explosion.

Soobin glanced at the clock. It had already been 14. 

Soobin’s leg bounced restlessly as he chewed his fingernails. Had they run into trouble? Did they get caught? Was someone on their way to capture him at this very moment? He wanted to pace, to look out the window, to do something,  anything  but just sit there and wait. He could feel each second, each minute passing by, both painfully slow and all too fast. 

The  whoosh  of the automatic doors yanked him from his thoughts, and for a brief moment, he didn’t dare look up to see who it was. 

“Soobin?” Yeonjun called softly.

Finally, Soobin came free from his hiding spot. He immediately ran to envelop the both of them in a hug. 

“You were late!” He chastised after they broke apart. “I was so worried, I thought something had gone wrong.”

“Sorry about that,” Beomgyu said. “The whole plan actually went off without a hitch. I think we just estimated the timings wrong.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun was still trying to catch his breath from their journey to the train, “Beomgyu met me exactly where and when he was supposed to, but the way here was longer than we expected.”

“Well, at least you’re all right. So, everything went well?” Soobin asked. Now that he was done being nervous, his curiosity was taking over. 

“Actually, everything went perfectly.” Yeonjun sounded as if he still couldn’t quite believe their luck. “Kai got everything about the bomb right, and no one saw Beomgyu as he left. As long as Taehyun shows up, we might actually get out of this mess.” 

They all waited in tense silence until the  whoosh  of the doors came again, and Taehyun, looking a little worse for wear, hopped inside. 

“Taehyun!” Beomgyu jumped up at his arrival, then seemed to catch himself. Soobin wondered if there was something more than just relief in his brother’s reaction. 

“Remind me again why I got stuck with the worse job. First, I had to carry  dead body parts , then I had to run  toward  the explosion. I might’ve even singed my hair!” Soobin could tell he was joking, but he could still see the soot and burn marks on his clothes.

“Oh, enough complaining, let’s get out of here.” Yeonjun’s tone sounded harsh, but Soobin could see the relief in his body language. “Taehyun, the train is programmed to take us back to District 7, right?”

“Yes, since you were supposed to leave today anyway, I didn’t have to change the destination. I did bump up the speed, though, just in case we were followed. All you have to do is go to the front and scan your handprint, and the train should take off.”

Yeonjun nodded and exited the room. 

All too soon, Soobin had to re-assume the crouched position he’d held earlier, even though his back was screaming in protest. Beomgyu and Taehyun’s feet shuffled across the room as they, too, looked for their own places to hide. 

He knew the train would be fast, but Soobin had really underestimated just how fast Taehyun had programmed the train to be until they took off. His whole body was thrown backward with the force of it. He had just repositioned himself when, this time, he was thrown forwards when the train stopped as forcefully as it had started.

He chanced a whisper, “Why did we stop?”

Both Beomgyu and Taehyun had no answers to offer him. Then, from the speakers, he heard the crackle of the intercom, and then Yeonjun ask, “What’s the problem?”

Yeonjun must’ve switched on the intercom to clue them in on what was happening.

“There’s been an attack on the Capitol. We’ve set up checkpoints for every train coming in and out of the city.” The Peacekeeper spoke in a robotic, practiced voice. 

“Yeah, no problem, go ahead, it’s just me on here,” Yeonjun responded, ever the diligent victor. 

The crackling stopped as Yeonjun switched the intercom off. 

Every door on the train opened simultaneously. The tell-tale  whoosh  sounded much more menacing to Soobin this time. He could hear the footsteps of the Peacekeeper as he made his way through the train. Even louder than that, he could hear his own heartbeat. It was so loud, pounding with more power than it ever had before. There was  no way  the Peacekeeper couldn’t hear it. It was practically an alarm, signaling Soobin’s position.

How could they have come so far only to get caught now? After everything, Beomgyu surviving the Games, after the explosion, after them doing everything right, now at the last minute, it was all falling apart. What would they do with him? Beomgyu was a Victor, a public figure now. And Taehyun would be seen as a traitor to the Capitol. Snow would probably make an example of them. But Soobin? No one knew who he was. Snow would wipe him out, and he would be gone without a trace. Without anyone ever knowing he was there. 

Soobin heard the footsteps getting closer, finally entering the room they were hidden in. He tried to control his breathing, to silence it, but that only made him breathe harder. God, how could they be so stupid? How could they possibly have thought that crouching behind furniture would be a good hiding spot? Taehyun and Beomgyu were small; there was a chance, a very small one, that they could go unseen. But Soobin was far taller than any of them and could only make himself so small.

The Peacekeeper’s footsteps were heavy, and Soobin felt the weight of each one. He closed his eyes, so he didn’t have to watch as the boots came ever closer. 

At this point, Soobin could hear the Peacekeeper’s breath too. 

And then, “You need help looking for anything?”

The Peacekeeper turned around to the doorway, where Yeonjun had called out for him.

“Everything looks good,” the Peacekeeper grunted.

Soobin sighed in relief and immediately realized his mistake.

“Wait, what’s this?” The Peacekeeper spoke in Soobin’s direction.

Soobin tensed up, waiting for whatever punishment awaited him. 

Thankfully, Yeonjun placed himself firmly in between him and the Peacekeeper. “Oh, that?” Soobin watched as Yeonjun picked up a piece of fabric Soobin had not noticed before. “It’s mine.”

The Peacekeeper grabbed the object to inspect it. As he held it up, Soobin realized it was the jacket he’d discarded so carelessly just an hour earlier. “Really? It looks much too big for you.”

Yeonjun didn’t miss a beat. “I like an oversized fit.” He snatched the jacket and put it on to demonstrate. It looked at least 2 sizes too big for him. 

The Peacekeeper eyed him skeptically for a moment and then decided to believe him. “In that case, you’re all clear to go.”

“Well I should hope so,” Yeonjun’s smug Victor persona was back in full force. “If there was an attack on the Capitol, I’m sure to be next. So, thanks for checking that out for me, buddy.”

Soobin cringed at Yeonjun referring to a Peacekeeper as “buddy” and braced from some sort of retaliation. But there was none. Their heavy footsteps faded, and all the doors closed. Still, none of the stowaways dared to move until the train was in motion.

Beomgyu was the first to emerge, followed closely by Taehyun and then Soobin. Yeonjun quickly returned from the front of the train to join them.

“Did that really just happen?” Beomgyu asked. 

Soobin’s own disbelief was mirrored in all their faces.

“We did it,” Taehyun breathed out. “We really did it.”

_____

Though the rest of the train ride was entirely uneventful, Beomgyu still felt his nerves mounting with each mile they got closer to District 7. The worst was over, but he would never be free of the stain the Games left on his soul. And now, with no daring escape plan to focus on, the rest of his life would be spent processing it. All he’d done and all he’d lost.

He stared out the window, watching the landscape pass by in a blur. How different everything was from the last time he was on this train. How different he was. 

During the Games, the thought of returning home was what got him through. He longed to hug his parents and sleep in his own bed and enjoy all the mundane aspects of his life. But now, the country thought he was dead. And no one but the five of them could think otherwise. 

His heart broke for his parents. Just when they thought Beomgyu was safe, when they could finally breathe peacefully, it would all be snatched away from them again. He wished that he could see them, just once, to explain everything, why they could never see him again. But even that was too big a risk. All he could do was pray that someday the world would be safe enough for him to reunite with them.

He looked up from the window and around at their little group. Yeonjun and Soobin were asleep on the couch, resting their heads on each other. Taehyun was a mirror image of Beomgyu, sitting alone and looking out the window. Taehyun must’ve felt Beomgyu’s gaze on him because he turned to lock eyes with him. The younger boy slid out of his seat and joined Beomgyu.

“Are you ready to be home?” Taehyun asked, soft enough so as not to wake the other two.

“Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Sorry.” Beomgyu looked into Taehyun’s eyes, compelling him to understand that he really was sorry, and he wasn’t just trying to blow Taehyun off.

“That’s okay.” And it was. They’d have the rest of their lives to talk about it.

Chapter Text

“They should’ve come by now,” Beomgyu paced around the small wooden house. 

“Come here,” Taehyun called. As always, Beomgyu obeyed, and Taehyun wrapped him in a hug. “They’ll come. They always do.”

This was often their dynamic. Over the last nine years since that day on the train, Taehyun and Beomgyu had become buoys to each other, clinging to each other for fear of drowning. 

Beomgyu knew Taehyun was right, but still, in nine years, Soobin and Yeonjun had never been this late with a supply run. He knew it was harder for them to get away, with all the revolts and riots, and the cost of getting caught was higher than ever, but they’d never been longer than two weeks. Now, they were pushing four.

Ever since their spectacle at the Capitol, Beomgyu, and Taehyun had been living in an abandoned house in the woods outside District 7. Kai found it on satellite imagery when they were planning their escape. It should have been leveled, but it slipped everyone’s notice. Their only companionship was each other, and Soobin and Yeonjun when they brought food and other supplies they needed. It was a lonely existence, but it was a necessary evil. After all, the whole country believed Beomgyu had perished nearly a decade ago.

“We only have a couple days of food left,” Beomgyu worried.

“It’s going to be okay,” Taehyun pressed a quick, steadying kiss to Beomgyu’s lips.

That  was a development years in the making. It still wasn’t easy, at first, for Beomgyu to get past all that he’d been through and how Taehyun contributed to that, despite having seemingly forgiven him already. But Taehyun was patient with him, and frankly, it was hard to stay mad at him for long.  

A couple years of stolen glances and lingering touches culminated in one night. Soobin and Yeonjun had dropped off a bottle of wine with their latest set of supplies (“As a treat,” Yeonjun had said with a wink.). The wine had stronger effects than it would have, but they’d each gone years without any sort of alcohol, and it felt like the first time.

“You know,” Beomgyu slurred, “since we’re living together forever, we might as well…” he gestured vaguely, having lost his nerve to finish the sentence.

“How romantic,” Taehyun drawled.

“So you don’t want to?”

“Oh, come here,” Taehyun pulled him in for a sweet, if somewhat uncoordinated, drunken kiss. 

Even now, Beomgyu still couldn’t believe that he was with  Taehyun.  Taehyun, who he’d crushed on hard as a child. Taehyun, who had risked everything to keep him alive. Taehyun, who he seemed to be inexplicably connected to. 

Their embrace was broken by a knock at the door. Taehyun looked out the window to see who it was as Beomgyu picked up an axe just in case. Some instincts would never go away, no matter how many years passed. 

“It’s them,” Taehyun called.

Beomgyu put down his axe and opened the door. He squeezed the pair of them into a hug. “God, I was so worried.”

When he pulled back, he saw that Yeonjun and Soobin were empty-handed.

“Where are the supplies?” Beomgyu asked.

“You don’t need them anymore,” Yeonjun was barely suppressing a grin.

“What? Why?” Taehyun placed his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder.

“The war is over. Snow is dead.”

“Dead?” It didn’t seem possible. It didn’t seem like Snow was human enough to die. He was this monster, this titan, who had changed the whole trajectory of all of their lives. How could he be dead, just like that?

“Katniss Everdeen killed him,” Soobin clarified.

“So that means?”

Soobin smiled, “It means you’re coming with us. We’re going home.”

It was over. Almost ten years after his name was called, it was finally over. Beomgyu was finally free. 

Beomgyu grabbed Taehyun’s warm, soft hand and squeezed it. “Okay, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

WOW. IM DONE. AHHHHHHHHHH. This is the longest project I’ve ever attempted and certainly the longest one I’ve ever finished. I got the idea for this story over a year ago and have been working on it ever since so it feels really surreal to actually be done with it. I’m really going to miss this setting and this version of the TXT boys (though I will certainly not miss having to write action scenes all the time).

I want to give a shout out to my good friends and beta readers Lex and Tessa (their profiles are linked below check them out hehe) (you should probably thank them too) because without them, I never would’ve had the motivation to complete this fic. I am incredibly thankful for all of our Facetime writing sessions, even if we always did more talking than writing. I love you both and thank you for making this fic what it is <3

I am also extremely grateful for everyone reading this right now. Every comment, kudos, and reader means the world to me, and I’m so glad I could share this weird little combination of two of my favorite things with all of you. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Thank you for staying patient with me as my posting became inconsistent. I became really busy and worried I might’ve been biting off more than I could chew, but knowing you guys were supporting me got me through. So for that, and for everything, THANK YOU!!!!!!!

I don’t know what comes next for me as far as writing and fics, but in the meantime, you can check out my other works on my profile. I have a couple one-shots and a Yeonbin fic you can check out (all of them involving much less murder and violence–which is to say, none at all). You can also keep up with me on twitter!

AHHHHHHHHHH I CANT STOP SCREAMING I CANT BELIEVE ITS REALLY HAPPENING.

(ps. Hopefully there are no die hard Hunger Games fans in the audience because I took MANY creative liberties.)