Games for Days (Subaru/Yasuda)
Games for Days
Shibutani Subaru/Yasuda Shota
Notes:
This is a Hunger Games AU. No spoilers for the books, except for the games settings in the first. Might be confusing for people who hasn't read any of the books, so here's a quick explanation.
In a nation with a city called Capitol in the center and several districts surrounding it, two young children (a boy and a girl) are chosen as 'tributes' each year. The Capitol forces the tributes into the annual Hunger Games, a fight to death on live TV. The winner, known as 'victors', are promised a lifetime supply food and money. Some districts take advance of this and this leads to the 'careers', children who grew up training for these games. During the games, the crowd watching the games can donate to show their support, known as 'sponsors', and it is essential that the tributes charm the audience to bring in sponsorships in the form of food, water, medicine or weapons. After winning, victors are invited back to the Capitol each year to serve as 'mentors' for the tributes from their own division, to help plan strategies for the games. Quarter Quells happen every twenty-five years, with special rules that makes the games things even more challenging.
Rather dark for something I wrote for Yasu's birthday. But...happy birthday? :3
---
The girl's struggling, but Subaru holds on with all his strength, focusing on keeping his dagger in the girl's body. His eyes are closed tight, refusing to take in the sight, his ears hearing nothing but a loud buzz. She killed his brother, he repeats to himself, his brother died under her hands, this is rightful revenge, she killed his brother.
She stills. Subaru sinks onto the ground, letting go of the bloodied hilt.
The trumpets blare, and the voice of the Games Master rings into the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Fiftieth Hunger Games, Shibutani Subaru! I give you--the tribute of District One!"
---
"Welcome to the club," Yokoyama said when they first met, "want a drink?"
It turns out that there isn't a club, but the ring of Victors do have a very loose code of their own. A connection with each other that people who hasn't been in the arena wouldn't understand. A group of the most conceited bunch in the world, Murakami explained once, all of them selfish to the extent of being murderous.
Murakami and Nishikido are both younger than him, but in terms of the games, Nishikido won two years ago and Murakami a year before. A Career like Subaru, Murakami won his game by brute force, a fact Yokoyama often openly mocks. Nishikido is the youngest tribute that ever won, fourteen at the time and smaller than even most of the girls, and by the time people figured out that he has extensive knowledge of explosives, it was too late. It doesn't matter though, because Subaru won the Fiftieth Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell, and therefore everyone listens to him.
No one quite knows how Yokoyama won. Subaru remembers watching the games on screen, and one moment there's fire and smoke everywhere, the next Yokoyama's crawling out of the smog. When his mentors tutored him on previous wins, they skipped Yokoyama's game, claiming it'll teach Subaru nothing.
Subaru knows better than to ask Yokoyama. He learned fast that you can point and jeer and laugh at other's games, but you don't ask or explain. What's known is exactly what was recorded, and things stay that way.
---
When the Fifty-second year of the games roll around, Subaru decides not to mentor the tributes from his district.
He knows the pair, of course. Subaru saw them from the corner of his eyes as he walks through his district, knowing they're the pair that's participating this year. After going through the same training he went through, here's another pair of Careers ready to jump into the games that defined their existences since birth, and the very thought makes Subaru sick.
Last year, one tribute from his district bled to death from a cut to his leg. The other had her head cut off. Subaru's mentor says that he'd better get used to it, since it's going to happen every year, but Subaru prefers to ignore it.
Then he looks into the eyes of the year's male tribute. Yasuda Shota, Subaru's mind feeds him automatically, and he notices the confident smile. Yasuda has a small build, but being rather short himself Subaru knows better than to underestimate the boy. And Yasuda has powerful hands, a strong grip that proved themselves resourceful in the Training Centre.
A seventeen percent victory rate, Subaru thinks. Higher than most districts, especially the ones without Careers participating, but not that much higher.
Murakami warns him. Victors shouldn't get attached, because they're the only safe ones. Except maybe to each other, if you can ignore the fact that the person you trust will most certainly stab you in the back to survive.
"I thought you've given up on me," Yasuda says when Subaru approaches him for the first time.
"You're going to die," Subaru says, "and I'm just here to watch you."
Yasuda smiles, and Subaru notices that the boy's eyes twinkle. If it were anyone else, it would mean warmth and a suggestion of friendship; on Yasuda, it's merely a deadly combination.
"You won," Yasuda points out, "who says I can't?"
"You're going to die," Subaru repeats.
Yasuda offers him an apple in return. Subaru accepts it, because Yasuda's going to die anyway, whether he takes the apple or not. He asks Yasuda about what he wants to do for the private session, and Yasuda says he might just tie a few knots and leave it at that. Careers get decent scores anyway, but Subaru insists that Yasuda thinks of something better.
"Yasu," Yasuda suddenly offers, "it's what my friends call me."
"You're dying in a few days," Subaru says, "and we're not friends."
Yasuda laughs. "Yeah, okay. You're my mentor for now. I actually like the sound of that." Yasuda looks at Subaru directly when he says, "I think I like you, Shibuyan."
Subaru doesn't bother to fight off the new nickname. In a few days, Yasuda would be in the arena, going against other tribute in a game of death. And in a few days, Yasuda wouldn't exist anymore, would become a mere memory amongst all the emptiness.
---
Subaru watches the presentation on screen. None of the Victors are at the presentation, because it's a waste of them and they prefer to acquaint themselves with the liquor cabinets in their rooms.
By complete chance, Yokoyama and Maruyama ends up in his room as well. Maruyama is the Fifty-first Victor of the Hunger Games, having won only last year. His victim count is a bare one, and only because he pushed against the person ready to kill him and the person fell off a cliff. Even with a hunted look in his eyes, Maruyama still believes in life and is far too innocent to be around Subaru.
Subaru doesn't kick the boy out. They sit next to each other in complete silence as Yasuda charms the audience with his smile and wild gestures.
"You've gotten attached," Yokoyama says with his eyes squinted. "Don't bother denying, 'cause anyone can tell from a mile wide."
I'm only human and this is only my second year, Subaru thinks. Give me five more years, and I wouldn't care. Give me ten more years, and I probably wouldn't be conscious for any of this. It's just another stupid boy who thinks he can bring home the world by killing other children.
On the forty-three inch television, Yasuda gives the audience a cheerful dance sequence that brings a wave of laughter. Then the host asks him if there's anything he wants to do if he wins.
If asked, most of the tributes would give the standard reply. They've all been drilled by their mentors on what to do for the presentation, after all. With their Victory, they would go back to their families and live a life of peace, a life provided with food and riches thanks to the generous Emperor.
Instead, Yasuda gives a hesitant smile.
Curiosity washes over the crowd, questioning whispers appearing in the background. "Come on, you can tell us," the host urges encouragingly.
Yasuda sighs. "I want to kiss Shibutani Subaru."
As a previous Victor, everyone knows Subaru's name. The crowd hoots and cheers. Subaru freezes, and Yokoyama turns around sharply to look at him.
"You bastard, you two planned this didn't you," Yokoyama accuses. "It's a good plan, I'll give you that. Everyone sympathizes with a good love story. With a possible happy ending, it's bound to bring in the crowd. Still, it's fucking dirty."
Subaru wants to deny it. It might be--hell, it probably is Yasuda's plan, but he held no part in coming up with it.
When he finally opens his mouth, his throat refused to produce a single sound.
---
"They say every Victor picks up a hobby after winning," Yasuda asks him the night before he's bound for the arena. "What's yours?"
"Singing," Subaru says, because it's partially true. If he goes into detail, he would explain that he enjoys singing, but only because it expresses himself. He makes up lyrics that would describe the world he sees, thinks of notes that could come together to weave strings of melody.
"Really? Show me?" Yasuda asks, wide eyed.
Subaru shakes his head. "I'm not any good at it. I just say it so Capitol doesn't think I'm doing nothing."
"Ah," Yasuda exclaims understandingly, but Subaru can spot the disappointment in Yasuda's downcast eyes.
Subaru sings the chorus of the national anthem, with a few parts off-tune and a few pauses in between. Yasuda nods along, but Subaru can tell this isn't what Yasuda's expecting, it isn't music at all and apparently Yasuda knows the difference. Subaru feels his throat tighten when Yasuda changes the topic, asks about Subaru's experience in the arena and advice on what he should do first.
Subaru just evaded revealing more of himself to Yasuda, and he should be glad. But instead he feels like he failed Yasuda's expectations, because no matter how Yasuda looks at him for answers, Subaru has nothing to offer.
Yasuda's only looking at him right now because they're on the same team. Yasuda doesn't have to worry about Subaru turning against him, because Subaru has already gone there and came back. On screen, it's a solid story of a tribute falling for his mentor and wanting to go against all odds and come back to reunite with his love. A story that would bring in the sponsors and money that could bring up the chances of Yasuda surviving.
But off-screen, all they have is small talk, blocks of nothing to fill up the time until Yasuda leaves for his death.
---
The initial bloodbath has started. Yasuda's in it--he's in the Career pack after all--but it seems like he has things under control. His weapon of choice is a set of twin combat knives, though Subaru knows Yasuda is just as effective with only one.
"Why are we watching this shit?" Murakami asks. No one answers, because they can complain all they want, but in the end it's their duty as Victors to know what happens in the arena even after they leave it.
Yokoyama has enough liquor in him to be watching and yet know nothing. He's just in the room because he can't leave it, has to be in the same room as the television. Subaru envies Yokoyama, but Subaru can't bring the bottle in his hand to his lips, the screams and war cries weighting the bottle down.
"Wha-'ppened?" Yokoyama slurs.
"Your boy's still alive," Murakami informs him, and Yokoyama gives him a nod before sliding from the couch to the floor. The carpet is Capitol quality, of course, soft and warming and comfortable enough to sleep on for a whole night and wake up without soreness.
Both of the tributes in Nishikido's district are dead. Subaru hands him the bottle, and Nishikido drains it in one drink. Murakami's pair is both alive, as expected of Careers.
To Subaru's left, Maruyama is curled against the side of the couch, an awkward position for a boy as large as he is. Maruyama lost his boy, but his girl with the long hair and a persuading voice is still alive.
Yasuda isn't dead yet. Subaru doesn't even try to take his eyes off the boy, glued to the screen as Yasuda scrambles to gather the food bags and find a good place to camp. The arena is a volcano this year, the climate hot with salt water that makes drinkable water important. Maybe there will enough sponsors this year to send some water.
Subaru's still calculating how much water would cost in sponsor terms when Yasuda looks up, as though he's searching for something. A camera focuses on Yasuda's line of sight so it appears that Yasuda is looking straight into the lenses.
Yasuda raises his hand for a victory sign, and there's no mistake that it's directed at Subaru when Yasuda smiles and mouthes what could only be Subaru's name.
---
"Oi, Subaru, isn't it about time you spill?" Yokoyama says, "Tell us, did you actually fuck, or was it just a really convincing story?"
"Yoko-" Maruyama starts, stepping in front of Subaru to guard him from Yokoyama.
Subaru's grateful, even if there's no need for it at all. "It's nothing," Subaru says, a truth the others aren't believing. He doesn't quite care. "Think what you like, he's dead anyway."
But that's the problem, isn't it? After four days, Yasuda isn't dead yet. Only nine of the tributes are left, including Yasuda and Murakami's Careers. So Subaru keeps waiting for Yasuda's death scene, because he can't miss it, has to watch the moment Yasuda leaves the world. Somewhere in his mind, Subaru believes that if he's there watching as Yasuda dies, then Yasuda might sense that Subaru's with him, might not die thinking he's alone. It's a puny thought, powerless against destiny or fate or all the other shit that tributes have to go through, but it's the only thing Subaru can do.
"For a mentor who's so pessimistic, your tribute sure is smiling a lot," Nishikido comments.
Subaru watches the screen. Sure enough, Yasuda is smiling as he builds a fire from the heat escaping from the volcano. Around him, two others are there, his teammates for now.
Only nine left. Soon, Yasuda or his teammates would decide it's time to split, and it's a matter of who makes the decision first and who splits whose throat before the other does.
"I think he actually has a chance," Murakami says, "but the real game starts now. And I'm still betting on my girl."
Yasuda's set of knives are tied neatly against his sides, one on the left and one on the right. Subaru has seen them in use four times now, three times flying towards their targets and once slicing clean into an enemy.
For every kill, Yasuda looks up and says Subaru's name like a prayer. Subaru knows that any sane person would be horrified, but none of them are sane, not after going into the dreadful pit. So when Yasuda says Subaru's name, Subaru whispers Yasuda's in reply, soft enough that there's no possibility of anyone catching his words.
---
Yasuda is delirious. He's hiding near a swamp under a tree, incapable of movement after the cut on his left arm turned out to be infected and swelled to its current size.
Using all the sponsorship credits, Subaru sent some medicine to lessen the fever. The infection is terrible, but Yasuda needs to get out of his fever first. Yasuda had received the packet, but so far he's done nothing but clutch at it as he lies there moaning. At this rate, Murakami's girl is going to find him, and it'd be all over before Yasuda can even stand up.
"You can't die," Subaru chants. If he says it enough times, maybe it could come true. "You can't die, you can't die, you can't die. You said so yourself, you're coming back and the crowd is going to expect you to kiss me and I can't say no, because everyone would want a good show and we're going to give it, you can't die here, not now."
"You were dead set that he's going to die till yesterday," Yokoyama snaps, "and now that it's finally happening, you decide that it's not what you want?"
"He can't help it," Maruyama says for him, "You know what's it like too, right, Yoko? None of us can help anything."
Yokoyama shuts up after that. With an angry cry, he throws the glass in his hands against the wall, wastes a glass of the most expensive alcohol in the states just to express his thoughts. It's not like he can do much else.
Subaru works Yasuda's name into his chant. He feels Maruyama's arms wrap around him, knows logically that he should feel human warmth but all he can feel is a distant touch. Even so, Subaru accepts the contact, because he can feel himself breaking down, any moment then, and maybe only the sole person in this room who isn't a murderer can save him from a complete meltdown.
Maruyama shouldn't be here. Subaru can think of a hundred ways to kill the boy with just the tools available in this room. Starting from his bare hands to the shards Yokoyama just helped create.
It isn't long before Subaru realizes that Yasuda's saying something. They fall into silence, and Nishikido turns up the volume wordlessly. It's not much of a surprise when they hear Subaru's name spilling out of Yasuda's mouth like the only lifeline Yasuda's clinging onto. Perhaps it is.
"Well, fuck," Nishikido says, "now you're both in love with each other. I hate drama, gives me a fucking headache."
---
It's the middle of the night when Yasuda finally seems to break the fever. It's hard to tell in the darkness, even with the advanced night lenses Capitol uses.
Two tributes had died while Yasuda was unconscious. This means there's only three of them in there now, Murakami's girl just as he predicted, and another boy from District Eight. Subaru doesn't know how much Yasuda knows, doesn't know how clear the boy's head is now, doesn't even know if Yasuda can carry a straight thought.
Pain. Subaru remembers the pain, it's something no one forgets. Once it starts, you don't expect it to go away anymore, you just want everything to end.
But there's always a reason to go on. For Subaru, it had been his family, the one he has to support with his brother dead. Brothers. It isn't coincidence that his family entered the games so often, it's their career. And only Subaru emerged victorious.
Murakami's girl is sleeping on the other side of the arena, Yasuda's safe from her for now. The other boy is awake and alert, on the move searching for something, perhaps Yasuda.
It's never going to end, Subaru thinks to Yasuda, every wound you receive is going to hurt forever, but you promised me. That you would come back for me. It could be a political move and I wouldn't care, as long as you come back and deliver what you promised.
"Shibuyan," the speakers produce. Yasuda's voice. It's the first time Yasuda uses the nickname in the arena, and Subaru can't help but think it's because Yasuda thinks it's going to be his last. "Shibuyan, this is for you."
Yasuda begins to sing. It takes two words for Subaru to realize that Yasuda is singing Subaru's song, the first one he wrote after his game ended. It's entirely about flowers, but when Subaru sings it, it's not about flowers at all. Each night, Subaru sings the song to himself, and it's about rebirth and death and the smallest hint of hope, because without hope Subaru wouldn't wake up the next morning.
Yasuda's singing, putting everything he has into the song, and Subaru thinks the boy must have sung something else before, because Yasuda sings in the exact notes Subaru decided on, not a pitch off-tune.
The boy from District Eight catches the sound. He moves towards Yasuda, and Subaru gasps out in warning, before realizing that Yasuda must have done it on purpose.
Sometime, before Yasuda went into the arena, he must have heard Subaru sing this very song. And Yasuda had confronted Subaru about it, Subaru remembers now, but Subaru had refused the boy. Because singing is Subaru's expression, him baring his heart and soul the only way he knows how anymore, and he doesn't plan to share himself with a dead boy.
Yasuda knew all along. The entire song, not just broken parts. Knew, and memorized.
There are sounds of footsteps, and flashes of knife edges, and Subaru can't see anymore, not with the tears in his eyes. It's that moment he realizes he's crying.
---
Yasuda takes down both his opponents in one day. Some might call him merciless for it, but Subaru knows it was Yasuda's only chance, to take down the others before he collapses.
Their reunion is staged, Subaru on one end of the platform and Yasuda on the other. This isn't how their reunion should be like, but the crowd has been anticipating this, and Subaru has to give them what they want.
Except Yasuda isn't moving. Expressionless, Yasuda simply stands there, looking as though he doesn't recognize Subaru.
Maybe he doesn't, Subaru doesn't know anymore. He steps forward, smashes into Yasuda for both of them and holds Yasuda in his arms. Yasuda is stiff, his body cold, and no amount of clutching from Subaru changes that. Stiff, immobile, paralyzed. Yasuda isn't in here with him, but the crowd's waiting for their performance.
"Yasu," Subaru whispers against Yasuda's ear.
Yasuda loosens against him. Subaru lifts Yasuda's face and clashes their lips together. It's not a kiss, merely a collision of two cold bodies, but the crowd cheers in celebration.
They're somehow maneuvered back to Subaru's room. Subaru sees Yokoyama and Maruyama in the hallway, but the two knows better than to approach.
It's when Subaru closes the door and the lock clicks shut that Yasuda begins to laugh. Subaru turns around to look at him, the boy so ready to take on the world just a handful of days before. So ready to go for the kill, so ready for brutal murder, until he sees the blood and finds out that the world has given him up long ago.
Without Subaru's support, Yasuda crashes down. Choking on his own laughter but incapable of stopping.
Wordlessly, Subaru reaches for Yasuda, but Yasuda jerks away. In between giggles, Yasuda looks into Subaru's eyes. "You're right, Shibuyan. I did die in there," and Yasuda continues laughing, painfully loud among the bareness of the Capitol designed rooms. "I'm dead."
Yasuda's laughter doesn't stop. It rings against the walls until there are tears in both their eyes, until Subaru's holding Yasuda in his arms once more.
It takes a dead boy to love another.
---
Shibutani Subaru/Yasuda Shota
Notes:
This is a Hunger Games AU. No spoilers for the books, except for the games settings in the first. Might be confusing for people who hasn't read any of the books, so here's a quick explanation.
In a nation with a city called Capitol in the center and several districts surrounding it, two young children (a boy and a girl) are chosen as 'tributes' each year. The Capitol forces the tributes into the annual Hunger Games, a fight to death on live TV. The winner, known as 'victors', are promised a lifetime supply food and money. Some districts take advance of this and this leads to the 'careers', children who grew up training for these games. During the games, the crowd watching the games can donate to show their support, known as 'sponsors', and it is essential that the tributes charm the audience to bring in sponsorships in the form of food, water, medicine or weapons. After winning, victors are invited back to the Capitol each year to serve as 'mentors' for the tributes from their own division, to help plan strategies for the games. Quarter Quells happen every twenty-five years, with special rules that makes the games things even more challenging.
Rather dark for something I wrote for Yasu's birthday. But...happy birthday? :3
---
- Games for Days
Shibutani Subaru/Yasuda Shota, Hunger Games AU
The girl's struggling, but Subaru holds on with all his strength, focusing on keeping his dagger in the girl's body. His eyes are closed tight, refusing to take in the sight, his ears hearing nothing but a loud buzz. She killed his brother, he repeats to himself, his brother died under her hands, this is rightful revenge, she killed his brother.
She stills. Subaru sinks onto the ground, letting go of the bloodied hilt.
The trumpets blare, and the voice of the Games Master rings into the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Fiftieth Hunger Games, Shibutani Subaru! I give you--the tribute of District One!"
---
"Welcome to the club," Yokoyama said when they first met, "want a drink?"
It turns out that there isn't a club, but the ring of Victors do have a very loose code of their own. A connection with each other that people who hasn't been in the arena wouldn't understand. A group of the most conceited bunch in the world, Murakami explained once, all of them selfish to the extent of being murderous.
Murakami and Nishikido are both younger than him, but in terms of the games, Nishikido won two years ago and Murakami a year before. A Career like Subaru, Murakami won his game by brute force, a fact Yokoyama often openly mocks. Nishikido is the youngest tribute that ever won, fourteen at the time and smaller than even most of the girls, and by the time people figured out that he has extensive knowledge of explosives, it was too late. It doesn't matter though, because Subaru won the Fiftieth Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell, and therefore everyone listens to him.
No one quite knows how Yokoyama won. Subaru remembers watching the games on screen, and one moment there's fire and smoke everywhere, the next Yokoyama's crawling out of the smog. When his mentors tutored him on previous wins, they skipped Yokoyama's game, claiming it'll teach Subaru nothing.
Subaru knows better than to ask Yokoyama. He learned fast that you can point and jeer and laugh at other's games, but you don't ask or explain. What's known is exactly what was recorded, and things stay that way.
---
When the Fifty-second year of the games roll around, Subaru decides not to mentor the tributes from his district.
He knows the pair, of course. Subaru saw them from the corner of his eyes as he walks through his district, knowing they're the pair that's participating this year. After going through the same training he went through, here's another pair of Careers ready to jump into the games that defined their existences since birth, and the very thought makes Subaru sick.
Last year, one tribute from his district bled to death from a cut to his leg. The other had her head cut off. Subaru's mentor says that he'd better get used to it, since it's going to happen every year, but Subaru prefers to ignore it.
Then he looks into the eyes of the year's male tribute. Yasuda Shota, Subaru's mind feeds him automatically, and he notices the confident smile. Yasuda has a small build, but being rather short himself Subaru knows better than to underestimate the boy. And Yasuda has powerful hands, a strong grip that proved themselves resourceful in the Training Centre.
A seventeen percent victory rate, Subaru thinks. Higher than most districts, especially the ones without Careers participating, but not that much higher.
Murakami warns him. Victors shouldn't get attached, because they're the only safe ones. Except maybe to each other, if you can ignore the fact that the person you trust will most certainly stab you in the back to survive.
"I thought you've given up on me," Yasuda says when Subaru approaches him for the first time.
"You're going to die," Subaru says, "and I'm just here to watch you."
Yasuda smiles, and Subaru notices that the boy's eyes twinkle. If it were anyone else, it would mean warmth and a suggestion of friendship; on Yasuda, it's merely a deadly combination.
"You won," Yasuda points out, "who says I can't?"
"You're going to die," Subaru repeats.
Yasuda offers him an apple in return. Subaru accepts it, because Yasuda's going to die anyway, whether he takes the apple or not. He asks Yasuda about what he wants to do for the private session, and Yasuda says he might just tie a few knots and leave it at that. Careers get decent scores anyway, but Subaru insists that Yasuda thinks of something better.
"Yasu," Yasuda suddenly offers, "it's what my friends call me."
"You're dying in a few days," Subaru says, "and we're not friends."
Yasuda laughs. "Yeah, okay. You're my mentor for now. I actually like the sound of that." Yasuda looks at Subaru directly when he says, "I think I like you, Shibuyan."
Subaru doesn't bother to fight off the new nickname. In a few days, Yasuda would be in the arena, going against other tribute in a game of death. And in a few days, Yasuda wouldn't exist anymore, would become a mere memory amongst all the emptiness.
---
Subaru watches the presentation on screen. None of the Victors are at the presentation, because it's a waste of them and they prefer to acquaint themselves with the liquor cabinets in their rooms.
By complete chance, Yokoyama and Maruyama ends up in his room as well. Maruyama is the Fifty-first Victor of the Hunger Games, having won only last year. His victim count is a bare one, and only because he pushed against the person ready to kill him and the person fell off a cliff. Even with a hunted look in his eyes, Maruyama still believes in life and is far too innocent to be around Subaru.
Subaru doesn't kick the boy out. They sit next to each other in complete silence as Yasuda charms the audience with his smile and wild gestures.
"You've gotten attached," Yokoyama says with his eyes squinted. "Don't bother denying, 'cause anyone can tell from a mile wide."
I'm only human and this is only my second year, Subaru thinks. Give me five more years, and I wouldn't care. Give me ten more years, and I probably wouldn't be conscious for any of this. It's just another stupid boy who thinks he can bring home the world by killing other children.
On the forty-three inch television, Yasuda gives the audience a cheerful dance sequence that brings a wave of laughter. Then the host asks him if there's anything he wants to do if he wins.
If asked, most of the tributes would give the standard reply. They've all been drilled by their mentors on what to do for the presentation, after all. With their Victory, they would go back to their families and live a life of peace, a life provided with food and riches thanks to the generous Emperor.
Instead, Yasuda gives a hesitant smile.
Curiosity washes over the crowd, questioning whispers appearing in the background. "Come on, you can tell us," the host urges encouragingly.
Yasuda sighs. "I want to kiss Shibutani Subaru."
As a previous Victor, everyone knows Subaru's name. The crowd hoots and cheers. Subaru freezes, and Yokoyama turns around sharply to look at him.
"You bastard, you two planned this didn't you," Yokoyama accuses. "It's a good plan, I'll give you that. Everyone sympathizes with a good love story. With a possible happy ending, it's bound to bring in the crowd. Still, it's fucking dirty."
Subaru wants to deny it. It might be--hell, it probably is Yasuda's plan, but he held no part in coming up with it.
When he finally opens his mouth, his throat refused to produce a single sound.
---
"They say every Victor picks up a hobby after winning," Yasuda asks him the night before he's bound for the arena. "What's yours?"
"Singing," Subaru says, because it's partially true. If he goes into detail, he would explain that he enjoys singing, but only because it expresses himself. He makes up lyrics that would describe the world he sees, thinks of notes that could come together to weave strings of melody.
"Really? Show me?" Yasuda asks, wide eyed.
Subaru shakes his head. "I'm not any good at it. I just say it so Capitol doesn't think I'm doing nothing."
"Ah," Yasuda exclaims understandingly, but Subaru can spot the disappointment in Yasuda's downcast eyes.
Subaru sings the chorus of the national anthem, with a few parts off-tune and a few pauses in between. Yasuda nods along, but Subaru can tell this isn't what Yasuda's expecting, it isn't music at all and apparently Yasuda knows the difference. Subaru feels his throat tighten when Yasuda changes the topic, asks about Subaru's experience in the arena and advice on what he should do first.
Subaru just evaded revealing more of himself to Yasuda, and he should be glad. But instead he feels like he failed Yasuda's expectations, because no matter how Yasuda looks at him for answers, Subaru has nothing to offer.
Yasuda's only looking at him right now because they're on the same team. Yasuda doesn't have to worry about Subaru turning against him, because Subaru has already gone there and came back. On screen, it's a solid story of a tribute falling for his mentor and wanting to go against all odds and come back to reunite with his love. A story that would bring in the sponsors and money that could bring up the chances of Yasuda surviving.
But off-screen, all they have is small talk, blocks of nothing to fill up the time until Yasuda leaves for his death.
---
The initial bloodbath has started. Yasuda's in it--he's in the Career pack after all--but it seems like he has things under control. His weapon of choice is a set of twin combat knives, though Subaru knows Yasuda is just as effective with only one.
"Why are we watching this shit?" Murakami asks. No one answers, because they can complain all they want, but in the end it's their duty as Victors to know what happens in the arena even after they leave it.
Yokoyama has enough liquor in him to be watching and yet know nothing. He's just in the room because he can't leave it, has to be in the same room as the television. Subaru envies Yokoyama, but Subaru can't bring the bottle in his hand to his lips, the screams and war cries weighting the bottle down.
"Wha-'ppened?" Yokoyama slurs.
"Your boy's still alive," Murakami informs him, and Yokoyama gives him a nod before sliding from the couch to the floor. The carpet is Capitol quality, of course, soft and warming and comfortable enough to sleep on for a whole night and wake up without soreness.
Both of the tributes in Nishikido's district are dead. Subaru hands him the bottle, and Nishikido drains it in one drink. Murakami's pair is both alive, as expected of Careers.
To Subaru's left, Maruyama is curled against the side of the couch, an awkward position for a boy as large as he is. Maruyama lost his boy, but his girl with the long hair and a persuading voice is still alive.
Yasuda isn't dead yet. Subaru doesn't even try to take his eyes off the boy, glued to the screen as Yasuda scrambles to gather the food bags and find a good place to camp. The arena is a volcano this year, the climate hot with salt water that makes drinkable water important. Maybe there will enough sponsors this year to send some water.
Subaru's still calculating how much water would cost in sponsor terms when Yasuda looks up, as though he's searching for something. A camera focuses on Yasuda's line of sight so it appears that Yasuda is looking straight into the lenses.
Yasuda raises his hand for a victory sign, and there's no mistake that it's directed at Subaru when Yasuda smiles and mouthes what could only be Subaru's name.
---
"Oi, Subaru, isn't it about time you spill?" Yokoyama says, "Tell us, did you actually fuck, or was it just a really convincing story?"
"Yoko-" Maruyama starts, stepping in front of Subaru to guard him from Yokoyama.
Subaru's grateful, even if there's no need for it at all. "It's nothing," Subaru says, a truth the others aren't believing. He doesn't quite care. "Think what you like, he's dead anyway."
But that's the problem, isn't it? After four days, Yasuda isn't dead yet. Only nine of the tributes are left, including Yasuda and Murakami's Careers. So Subaru keeps waiting for Yasuda's death scene, because he can't miss it, has to watch the moment Yasuda leaves the world. Somewhere in his mind, Subaru believes that if he's there watching as Yasuda dies, then Yasuda might sense that Subaru's with him, might not die thinking he's alone. It's a puny thought, powerless against destiny or fate or all the other shit that tributes have to go through, but it's the only thing Subaru can do.
"For a mentor who's so pessimistic, your tribute sure is smiling a lot," Nishikido comments.
Subaru watches the screen. Sure enough, Yasuda is smiling as he builds a fire from the heat escaping from the volcano. Around him, two others are there, his teammates for now.
Only nine left. Soon, Yasuda or his teammates would decide it's time to split, and it's a matter of who makes the decision first and who splits whose throat before the other does.
"I think he actually has a chance," Murakami says, "but the real game starts now. And I'm still betting on my girl."
Yasuda's set of knives are tied neatly against his sides, one on the left and one on the right. Subaru has seen them in use four times now, three times flying towards their targets and once slicing clean into an enemy.
For every kill, Yasuda looks up and says Subaru's name like a prayer. Subaru knows that any sane person would be horrified, but none of them are sane, not after going into the dreadful pit. So when Yasuda says Subaru's name, Subaru whispers Yasuda's in reply, soft enough that there's no possibility of anyone catching his words.
---
Yasuda is delirious. He's hiding near a swamp under a tree, incapable of movement after the cut on his left arm turned out to be infected and swelled to its current size.
Using all the sponsorship credits, Subaru sent some medicine to lessen the fever. The infection is terrible, but Yasuda needs to get out of his fever first. Yasuda had received the packet, but so far he's done nothing but clutch at it as he lies there moaning. At this rate, Murakami's girl is going to find him, and it'd be all over before Yasuda can even stand up.
"You can't die," Subaru chants. If he says it enough times, maybe it could come true. "You can't die, you can't die, you can't die. You said so yourself, you're coming back and the crowd is going to expect you to kiss me and I can't say no, because everyone would want a good show and we're going to give it, you can't die here, not now."
"You were dead set that he's going to die till yesterday," Yokoyama snaps, "and now that it's finally happening, you decide that it's not what you want?"
"He can't help it," Maruyama says for him, "You know what's it like too, right, Yoko? None of us can help anything."
Yokoyama shuts up after that. With an angry cry, he throws the glass in his hands against the wall, wastes a glass of the most expensive alcohol in the states just to express his thoughts. It's not like he can do much else.
Subaru works Yasuda's name into his chant. He feels Maruyama's arms wrap around him, knows logically that he should feel human warmth but all he can feel is a distant touch. Even so, Subaru accepts the contact, because he can feel himself breaking down, any moment then, and maybe only the sole person in this room who isn't a murderer can save him from a complete meltdown.
Maruyama shouldn't be here. Subaru can think of a hundred ways to kill the boy with just the tools available in this room. Starting from his bare hands to the shards Yokoyama just helped create.
It isn't long before Subaru realizes that Yasuda's saying something. They fall into silence, and Nishikido turns up the volume wordlessly. It's not much of a surprise when they hear Subaru's name spilling out of Yasuda's mouth like the only lifeline Yasuda's clinging onto. Perhaps it is.
"Well, fuck," Nishikido says, "now you're both in love with each other. I hate drama, gives me a fucking headache."
---
It's the middle of the night when Yasuda finally seems to break the fever. It's hard to tell in the darkness, even with the advanced night lenses Capitol uses.
Two tributes had died while Yasuda was unconscious. This means there's only three of them in there now, Murakami's girl just as he predicted, and another boy from District Eight. Subaru doesn't know how much Yasuda knows, doesn't know how clear the boy's head is now, doesn't even know if Yasuda can carry a straight thought.
Pain. Subaru remembers the pain, it's something no one forgets. Once it starts, you don't expect it to go away anymore, you just want everything to end.
But there's always a reason to go on. For Subaru, it had been his family, the one he has to support with his brother dead. Brothers. It isn't coincidence that his family entered the games so often, it's their career. And only Subaru emerged victorious.
Murakami's girl is sleeping on the other side of the arena, Yasuda's safe from her for now. The other boy is awake and alert, on the move searching for something, perhaps Yasuda.
It's never going to end, Subaru thinks to Yasuda, every wound you receive is going to hurt forever, but you promised me. That you would come back for me. It could be a political move and I wouldn't care, as long as you come back and deliver what you promised.
"Shibuyan," the speakers produce. Yasuda's voice. It's the first time Yasuda uses the nickname in the arena, and Subaru can't help but think it's because Yasuda thinks it's going to be his last. "Shibuyan, this is for you."
Yasuda begins to sing. It takes two words for Subaru to realize that Yasuda is singing Subaru's song, the first one he wrote after his game ended. It's entirely about flowers, but when Subaru sings it, it's not about flowers at all. Each night, Subaru sings the song to himself, and it's about rebirth and death and the smallest hint of hope, because without hope Subaru wouldn't wake up the next morning.
Yasuda's singing, putting everything he has into the song, and Subaru thinks the boy must have sung something else before, because Yasuda sings in the exact notes Subaru decided on, not a pitch off-tune.
The boy from District Eight catches the sound. He moves towards Yasuda, and Subaru gasps out in warning, before realizing that Yasuda must have done it on purpose.
Sometime, before Yasuda went into the arena, he must have heard Subaru sing this very song. And Yasuda had confronted Subaru about it, Subaru remembers now, but Subaru had refused the boy. Because singing is Subaru's expression, him baring his heart and soul the only way he knows how anymore, and he doesn't plan to share himself with a dead boy.
Yasuda knew all along. The entire song, not just broken parts. Knew, and memorized.
There are sounds of footsteps, and flashes of knife edges, and Subaru can't see anymore, not with the tears in his eyes. It's that moment he realizes he's crying.
---
Yasuda takes down both his opponents in one day. Some might call him merciless for it, but Subaru knows it was Yasuda's only chance, to take down the others before he collapses.
Their reunion is staged, Subaru on one end of the platform and Yasuda on the other. This isn't how their reunion should be like, but the crowd has been anticipating this, and Subaru has to give them what they want.
Except Yasuda isn't moving. Expressionless, Yasuda simply stands there, looking as though he doesn't recognize Subaru.
Maybe he doesn't, Subaru doesn't know anymore. He steps forward, smashes into Yasuda for both of them and holds Yasuda in his arms. Yasuda is stiff, his body cold, and no amount of clutching from Subaru changes that. Stiff, immobile, paralyzed. Yasuda isn't in here with him, but the crowd's waiting for their performance.
"Yasu," Subaru whispers against Yasuda's ear.
Yasuda loosens against him. Subaru lifts Yasuda's face and clashes their lips together. It's not a kiss, merely a collision of two cold bodies, but the crowd cheers in celebration.
They're somehow maneuvered back to Subaru's room. Subaru sees Yokoyama and Maruyama in the hallway, but the two knows better than to approach.
It's when Subaru closes the door and the lock clicks shut that Yasuda begins to laugh. Subaru turns around to look at him, the boy so ready to take on the world just a handful of days before. So ready to go for the kill, so ready for brutal murder, until he sees the blood and finds out that the world has given him up long ago.
Without Subaru's support, Yasuda crashes down. Choking on his own laughter but incapable of stopping.
Wordlessly, Subaru reaches for Yasuda, but Yasuda jerks away. In between giggles, Yasuda looks into Subaru's eyes. "You're right, Shibuyan. I did die in there," and Yasuda continues laughing, painfully loud among the bareness of the Capitol designed rooms. "I'm dead."
Yasuda's laughter doesn't stop. It rings against the walls until there are tears in both their eyes, until Subaru's holding Yasuda in his arms once more.
It takes a dead boy to love another.
---