Chapter Text
Koushi wakes up to the morning sun shining into his face. He opens his eyes and closes immediately, hiding his head under the heavy blanket. Then, he peeks out again, more carefully this time. Once the light stops hurting his eyes, he checks the alarm clock on Daichi’s bedside table. It’s five. Koushi needs to be home by quarter past five if he doesn’t want anyone to notice his absence. Not like anyone would be worried, there aren’t many places he could be at this time of day.
Quietly and carefully, he turns around to face Daichi and smiles faintly.
Koushi isn’t religious, but he prays that he gets to wake up like this again tomorrow and the day after and the day after and after and after.
He wants to watch Daichi’s long dark lashes flutter as he’s dreaming. His relaxed, gentle expression when he’s fast asleep, for once unaware of the pain and chaos around him.
He reaches out to run his hand through his friend’s cropped hair. It’s soft and clean, he must’ve showered before going to bed. He always showers in the evening, water lukewarm at best so the little heater they had could warm up the water for the morning for his siblings overnight.
It’s an unacknowledged fight between him and his mom who’s going to shower last, so the other won't have to stand in ice-cold water.
Koushi’s offered them to shower at the Sugawara house, them just being three people, having more hot water than them. They both decline most times, but once winter strikes, they will relent from time to time and agree to let the water warm them up.
Koushi smiles as he cups his friend’s cheek. He’ll probably shave before leaving for town square, before the assembly .
It doesn’t matter whether you’re part of the pool of kids being picked from or not. Whether your kid could be picked or not. Whether you’ve nothing to lose, or already lost everything. Everyone has to attend the reaping, has to watch the village’s kids stand in line, organized by age, scared to death as each of them is praying and making promises to be good if only it meant they don’t have to attend the games.
It’s meant to scare, to intimidate the people living in Panem. It’s meant to remind them of the power the capitol holds over them. That whatever they think they could do, the capitol has its ways to keep each and every one of them in line.
Koushi slowly leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against Daichi’s forehead. He inhales the scent of his green apple soap and before he can slip back into a sleeping position, he gets up and grabs his jacket, disappearing through the window he climbed in the night before.
-
Hayato is waiting for him on the stairs to their front door, two mugs with something steaming inside sitting next to him. Koushi winces when he makes out the smirk on his lips and sighs.
Wordlessly, he sits down next to his brother and takes his mint green mug. A look inside makes the corners of his mouth tug as he recognizes the tint the tea leaves from last night left. He takes a sip and closes his eyes, the mix of earthiness and citrus coating his tongue, warmth running down his throat.
This might be the last morning he gets to spend with his brother like this. Sitting out on their porch, watching the morning sun slowly rise as it always does and will continue to do so. Even if Koushi won’t be here tomorrow, the morning sun will still rise morning after morning after morning. It will rise when he’s in the Capitol, the arena and it will rise when he’s six feet deep in the ground.
Or maybe it will all go well and he will sit here with Hayato and his mom, thanking fate for having spared him from an early death.
“I can’t imagine Daichi’s bed to be that more comfortable than your own. I mean, the space alone would be a no-go for me.”
Koushi snorts and pushes Hayato’s arm, making him tip over to the side, laughing at the impact. “Shut up.”
“Make me, dipshit,” Hayato challenged, taking a sip from his own cup.
Koushi shakes his head in amusement. “Ever heard of respecting your elders?”
“Ever heard of stop being so annoying and finally confess to your crush?”
Koushi rolls his eyes and sets down the mug next to him. They’ve had this conversation numerous times before. Koushi knows they must look ridiculous to the people around them, and maybe they are, but there’s also nothing they could’ve really done about it in the past years.
“You know he’s not just a crush,” Koushi said quietly.
Hayato sets down his own mug as well. “Yeah, I know.”
Koushi’s eyes are fixed on the cherry tree twenty feet away. This year wasn’t a great one for it. There was not enough rain, so the cherries didn’t grow very big. Koushi had complained when his mother didn’t let him bring over some to the Sawamuras, but he understood that they had to sell whatever they could.
He still was able to sneak a handful of them out and eat them with Daichi at their spot in the forest that nobody else dares to explore. They buried the cherry pits in several spots, hoping that in a few years, there would be a few new trees bearing fruit, enough for them to eat as many as they want.
“You have to help Daichi if I get reaped.”
“I know. I will.”
Koushi nods and looks back at his brother. It’s the same request as every year. Like it’s a given that Hayato won’t have to participate in the games. Because he doesn’t have to. If his name gets pulled, Koushi will volunteer. Both of them know it.
He knows Hayato doesn’t want him to, and yet, both know that he will.
“I’ll teach you the bow and quiver when we go out next time.”
Hayato’s eyebrows quirk up. He’s thinking, then he frowns. “Oh.”
There’s a small pause before he speaks his next words. “I may get chosen next year.”
“Hm. You may get chosen.”
“Especially when taking out tesser–”
“You are not taking out tesserae,” Koushi interrupts sternly.
“But –”
“No buts. I’ll find a way, don’t worry about it.” Yet.
Hayato huffs a low laugh and leans against his brother’s shoulder, Koushi quickly wrapping his arm around him. He would do anything for Hayato. He’d volunteer and work himself to the bone if it spared Hayato from any more danger than he already was in.
“When will you talk about it with him though?”
Suga exhales and looks at the rising sun that has just peaked out from behind the mountains. “Tonight.”
Hayato looks up at him, his eyes wide. “For real?”
Koushi smiles. “For real.” He takes another sip from his tea, the liquor warming him up from the inside. Although summer is right around the corner and the days are getting warmer and warmer, the nights and mornings are still considerably crisp.
“We almost kissed last night,” he confesses quietly, the memory of their shared moment almost making him blush.
“Why didn’t you?”
Koushi shrugs. “I want it to be special. Just us, out in our spot. Nobody around, no more games to think about. Only Daichi and me.”
“Sappy bitch.”
Koushi shakes his head with a grin and messes up his brother’s silver hair. Hayato shrieks and grabs Koushi’s hand, pushing it out of his hair. He tries to get his hands into Koushi’s hair, but the older one evades him.
“You –”
“Boys!” Their mother greets them in the middle of their little brawl. “What are you doing outside at this time? You should take a shower and get ready.”
Koushi looks up and sees the mug in her hands. He knows she’s not as relaxed as she seems, but it’s nice to pretend just for a moment that today is going to be fine.
-
Hayato enters Koushi’s room as Koushi is buttoning up his light gray dress shirt. He throws himself onto Koushi’s bed and stares at the ceiling.
“Don’t lounge around like this. Your shirt will get wrinkles,” Koushi warns.
Hayato rolls his eyes. “Who cares if there’s wrinkles? Nobody will notice.”
“Mom ironed these for us, so stop being a git.”
“ You ironed these, Mom never irons the button bar. Don‘t act like I’m stupid, stupid .”
Sometimes Koushi hates how perceptive his brother is. How he’ll catch details like these. Can always tell when Koushi cooked dinner for them or when something was wrong. There was no hiding things from this kid. He sighs and motions for Hayato to sit up. So he does.
Koushi pats out his white shirts before wrinkles can set and runs his hand through his hair to flatten down stray hairs.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, a small smile on his lips.
Hayato stares at him for a moment, tries to figure out whether to be annoyed or not, but ultimately, he choses against it. Instead, he frowns, worry written all over his face.
“What is it?”
Koushi shrugs. “I don’t know. I just– I have a weird feeling.”
“Don’t say that. Not now when we’re hours away from the reaping.”
“It’s not like I want to feel like this. It’s just that this year– I have a feeling .”
“How about to tell that feeling to go fuck off.”
“Hayato!” Koushi punches his stomach. His brother grunts and curls in on himself.
“What? I’m not five anymore!” He mutters. “I can curse. And , you’re not Mom.”
“But I am . ” Their mother stands in the doorway of Koushi’s room and shakes her head in amusement. “And nobody is cursing in this house. At least not until after dinner tonight, alright?”
Koushi puts on a smile. Tonight .
Yeah, tonight after the reaping. All of them will be able to go home and eat their bland food and sleep in their own creaking beds and it will be the best thing ever because it will mean that he and Daichi have made it through six reapings without a scratch.
He feels his smile become genuine at the thought.
-
Daichi’s in the line ahead of them. Hayato’s gripping his hand tight. There’s only a few people ahead of them and like every other year, Hayato’s more nervous about getting his finger pricked than anything else. Okay, maybe not more than anything else , but it’s still a pretty unpleasant thing to go through.
Ever since the last reaping, Koushi is sure it’s not the actual needle his brother is afraid of, but the part that comes after it. The blood being squeezed out of his finger as it gets pressed down onto a sheet of paper. The registration of his DNA for a reason Koushi hasn’t figured out yet.
The separation.
Koushi hates this part the most. Once registered for the games, kids are being separated by age group. If only he was a year younger, he could’ve stood with Reiki and Namie. Or with Jiro if he was a year older.
The grip on his hand loosens and Koushi looks at his brother. There are only a few people in front of them.
“See you on the other side,” Hayato mutters.
“See you on the other side.”
Koushi wraps his arms around him, pulls him into a crushing hug, but Hayato doesn’t complain. Instead, he wraps his arms around his brother as well. Koushi presses a soft kiss into his hair before they have to separate to get their fingers pricked.
The procedure never gets easier. He hates seeing his own blood dripping out of his fingertip and it getting smudged around in his designated column. He wonders what would happen if he just tainted the whole sheet with his blood. Just drew something stupid like a dick or President Washijo’s face onto the sheet. (Then again, those two would be the same.)
He doesn’t though. He has no idea what would happen if he did that. Would they just keep the paper? Disregard it and make him and those few kids before him register again? Would a peacekeeper arrest him? Shoot him on sight?
The more he thinks about it, the less it matters. This is his last reaping. In one hour, he’ll be free. Or as free as someone living in Twelve can be.
Once he’s done, he takes a look around until he finds the designated space for 17-year-olds. From there it’s not hard for him to spot Daichi. To Koushi, he just always sticks out. It’s not his height or his dark hair, or his statue. It’s just– Koushi’s not quite sure himself, but he just knows that he can always find Daichi. Be it in a crowd of fifty teenagers of the same age, in the middle of the woods or hidden in his family’s shed, cleaning the workbench and floor off the corrugated blood this siblings didn’t get.
Despite the absurdity of their current situation, and to Koushi the games are still an absurdity, he can’t help but to smile when Daichi waves him over. He picks up speed, taking long, but quick strides until he makes it to his best friend.
They wrap their arms around each other, both trying to squeeze the other boy tighter, but in the end, it’s always Koushi who wins their little contest. They both snort as they separate, ignoring the disturbed looks of the others around them.
If they want to be miserable from beginning to end of this shitshow, they can, Koushi won’t stop them. It’s not like it matters anyways.
“Just one more reaping.” Koushi grabs Daichi’s hand.
“One more reaping.” Daichi intertwines their fingers.
“Welcome!” The loud voice from the speaker catches their attention. “Welcome, welcome. Happy Hunger Games! And, may the odds be ever in your favor.”
They look up to the big stage. A man in an emerald suit, white dress shirt and matching emerald tie had stepped onto it. His hair is curly, it’s neither long nor too short. His face is framed by some glasses. Koushi can’t make out the color or shape, he’s glad he sees it at all from their distance.
The guy is new. Koushi’s never seen him here in Twelve before. He wonders what happened to the guy before him. Or maybe, he doesn’t really want to know. Maybe he should just keep to his own business, getting out of the games as slick as possible, not worrying about those that are part of upholding the games. He doesn’t need to be some damn hero. He just needs to not get reaped and take care of his family and that’s all.
The man introduces himself as Takeda Ittetsu before starts the movie on Panem’s history.
As always, it starts with the founding of Panem. How after several crises that have nearly destroyed earth, the surviving people have reassembled all over what is now known as Panem. Eventually, thirteen districts formed, each focusing on producing particular products to help to feed and care for the nation.
Then, the Dark Days approached. Approximately seventy-four years ago, several districts, led by District Thirteen, decided to rebel against the Capitol. The civil war lasted three years and came with a lot of casualties and a destroyed District Thirteen completely.
To remind the districts that these heinous actions shall not happen again, the Hunger Games were established where two children between the age of 12 and 17 enter a gladiatorial competition where they fight each other to the death. The last remaining survivor wins and receives a life full of fortunes.
Koushi is really doing his damndest to not roll his eyes throughout the film. He would do so at home, but here, he never knows which peacekeeper watches him and whether or not they care enough to punish him for it.
Normally, the peacekeepers in Twelve couldn’t give two shits about its citizens breaking small rules. Hell, peacekeepers are Koushi’s best customers on the black market. They love being able to call themselves adventurous for trying poor people’s food like rabbit meat, frogs or crows. The money is peanuts to them, but so much for families in Twelve.
Those peacekeepers wouldn’t care if any of them openly showed their disdain for the Capitol and its stupid little films. But today, they weren’t from Twelve. Peacekeepers from the Capitol, One and Two were all over the rest of the districts, making sure nobody tried anything stupid like starting a coup. Or laughing at ridiculous films produced by rich people who never had to lift a finger in their entire lives.
Koushi doesn’t dare to look anywhere else but the film hologram, but he runs his thumb over the back of Daichi’s hand when the latter starts trembling. They’re gonna be okay. They’re gonna be okay. They’re gonna –
“Now, the time has come for us to select two courageous young men or women for the honor of representing District Twelve in the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games.”
Takeda walks over to the glass bowl. The glass bowl with their names in it. With Daichi’s name being on 37 slips of paper. With his own name being on 19 of them. Takeda reaches into the bowl. He makes it a show of running his fingers through the hundreds of paper slips until he finally settles onto one.
It’s absolutely quiet in the town square. The only sound being Takeda walking back to the microphone. The wood under his shoes is creaking. The sun is blasting above them. Only now, Koushi realizes he’s been sweating, his hand in Daichi’s, clammy and cold at the same time.
There’s a crow flying high above them, cawing loudly. Koushi suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Something is wrong. Something is very very wrong.
“Sawamura…”
No. No. No. No. No. This can’t be. This can’t be happening. No, no, no, no, no. No!
This can’t be. It can’t. It just can’t. They can’t do this to him. They can’t just take him away from Koushi.
Don’t let it be him .
He squeezes Daichi’s hand as tight as humanly possible.
“Souta!”
Koushi lets out a sob before he slaps his free hand over his mouth for a second. His heart has dropped to his stomach. He wants to throw up, wants to cry, wants to beg him to not do what Koushi knows he is about to do.
“Daichi, please,” he whispers with no shame of sounding selfish. Because that’s what he is right now. He’s being selfish in not wanting Daichi to take his baby brother’s place just so he can have him. All Koushi wants is to get out of this. With Daichi by his side.
What is he supposed to do without him? How is he supposed to take care of both their families? What will stop him from becoming the same mess his mother has been for the past years? Without Daichi, there’s no reason for him to keep going.
He knows they have never spoken about their future after the games, but they have been foolish to act like they didn’t have secret hopes and dreams for it. Acting like they had all the time in the world to figure things out.
They never spoke about the future, acting like they were ready for the possibility of getting reaped, but now that it happened, Koushi realizes that he never truly thought that either of them would be part of the games.
Daichi squeezes his hand before letting go.
And then it hits him.
It’s Souta. Not just anyone. It’s Souta.
Shit, how could he even think like that? How could he expect Daichi to not volunteer when it was sweet little Souta? Souta, who loved to climb on Koushi’s lap when he was three-years old. Who would pat his little hands over Koushi’s cheeks, giggling and snuggling into his chest as Koushi kissed the top of his head, gently stroking his back, afraid he could break the small boy in his arms.
God, how could he even hope for Daichi not to volunteer? He’s just a kid. There’s no way he could win, no matter how good he had been at hide and seek at the age of five.
But Daichi can. He’s strong, he’s smart, a natural leader. He can win this, Koushi just knows it. Daichi has a fighting chance, no matter how well-trained the careers from One or Two might be. There’s a chance. And Koushi is holding tight onto this chance.
Daichi steps out into the main aisle and with it, Koushi’s heart sinks even further and further down.
“I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute.”