Chapter Text
The next punch almost had him on the floor.
Chuuya stumbled back, catching his breath as he tried to shut out the loud rumbling of people around him. The crowd was quite big this time- way bigger than usual, which meant more noise, more distractions, and more eyes on him. His muscles ached as he raised his arms to protect his head. He was close to passing out; he knew it.
It's because of this asshole. He looked at his opponent, who was smiling right down at him. He was older, sure, Chuuya was only eighteen, but the man was taller, had more muscles, more power. But Chuuya wasn't worried. It wasn't his first fight, after all. He's been doing this for years now, and damn, he's pretty good, too. He has progressed a lot and earned quite a reputation-Chuuya Nakahara, God of Destruction-they called him. He has faced many others before, way worse than that guy over there.
"What is it, kid? Are you afraid you'll faint? "The man said with an arrogant smile, laughing at him. They've been at it for a while now, and Chuuya was losing strength.
"Get him, Nakahara!" some people shouted from the crowd."Destroy him!" He approached the guy again, but this time he did not punch him. He jumped around him, never staying in one place. The man laughed at him.
"Why are you wasting my time, kid? Just come here, and fight me like a real man!" he shouted. "You're scared, huh? Don't worry, I don't make middle schoolers suffer as much."
As he was speaking, he was slightly panting, sweat dripping down his neck. Perfect.Chuuya, of course, could not care less about what he was saying.
Yes, the guy looked like a humanified grizzly bear, but that's all he was-a big mass of muscle. Chuuya continued to circle his opponent, never breaking eye contact. When the man saw that the redhead wasn't planning on attacking, he threw the first punch. Chuuya easily dodged it, quickly getting behind the other's back. Because he was quick- and the other man was not really. They started this weird dance, where Chuuya would circle the man quickly, avoiding all the punches.
Not so long after that, he could see the others breathing getting quicker and quicker. It's now or never. The next time the man tried to punch him, Chuuya dodged it as quickly as he could, and got on the other's right side, from where he struck his opponent as fast as lightning, getting him on the floor. He threw himself on him, kneeling on his hands, trying to keep the other on the floor.It wasn't easy- he was getting tired too, and the man weighed more than him, but before he could make any moves, Chuuya delivered the final punch, knocking the other out.
The people cheered loudly as the redhead got up from the ground, with a cocky smile plastered on his face. He won.
"I'm not a fucking middle schooler. I'm 18, you asshole!" he mumbled, looking down at the unconscious man.
Some people came to take the other fighter away, while the crowd gathered around Chuuya. He smiled at them, exhausted to say anything at all. He was scanning the room with his eyes when he found his friend, Tachihara, smiling and waving at him from the other side of the room.He had a large amount of money in his hands.
Let's get the fuck out of here -mouthed the other redhead. Chuuya nodded and kindly pushed away the strangers surrounding him as he made his way to the exit. He almost stumbled as he dragged his sore legs up the old stairs. He did not want to admit it, but this fight was harder than he expected. The guy did deliver some good punches, and he is pretty sure his face is all bruised. At the top of the stairs, there was a pub, run by an old lady named Gensy. Gensy was at least eighty, a tiny and scrawny woman, who treated her customers with a big smile on her face. The pub itself was old and rusty, but it was the most known pub in District 12. The prices and drinks were tolerable, and Gensy herself made the place way better. But the real reason most people visited was the illegal fight ring that was run by the peacekeepers every Friday night.
This was the place where all types of people would come together, who were desperate enough to bet what they had-money, coal, or just a chicken leg-on people like Chuuya, to win more and more fights every week. Was it the best job? Definitely not. But Chuuya had to make sure he could support his family, and with this, damn right he could.
Tachihara was waiting for him outside, and he couldn't hide his excitement. He was smiling like an idiot, waving the money in his hands.
"You were amazing, man!" he patted Chuuya on his back."I really thought he had you for a moment! But no, never! Hah! You took him out like it was nothing!"Chuuya laughed as he listened to his friend. Tachihara was not a bad fighter himself, but he always admired Chuuya for his combat skills. They used to practice with each other, but Chuuya quickly outgrew him.
"So?" he asked, and he couldn't hide his excitement either."How much?"His friend wiggled his eyebrows as he handed him the money. "Enough to feed the family for a while, you lucky devil!"
Chuuya stared at his hands, amazed, counting the bills one by one. He couldn't keep himself from thinking about all the things he could buy with them. With the Reaping approaching, more and more people were desperate enough to bet larger amounts of money.
"By the way.." said the other redhead, as they made their way home,"..the others and I are planning to go to Gensy's tonight. Get drunk and all shit. Take our minds off the fucking Reaping."
"That sounds very responsible." Chuuya jokes while rolling his eyes."I think I'll pass. I want to spend tonight with Kouyou and Ren. They are worried sick about tomorrow."
"Yeah, right. So you're planning to hang out with that dickhead instead of us, I get it. "
"Am not!" Chuuya says, rolling his eyes, but he couldn't help laughing."As I said, I'm gonna be with my sister and Ren."
"Whatever you say, man."
After parting with Tachihara, Chuuya walked alone, his shoulder throbbing with pain, exhausted and nervous. He didn't want to think about tomorrow, about the things that could happen... He just let the sun warm up his face as he made his way to the bakery. Chuuya became quite the regular buyer after he started fighting for money. The baker's daughter, Pam, was a very funny, outspoken person. She was a short girl( yes, even shorter than Chuuya) with curly, blonde hair and a smile always plastered on her face. Chuuya loved talking to her-they were friendly, sure, but nothing more. Michizou mentioned a few times that the girl might have a crush on him, but Chuuya just shrugged it off.
He bought some bread and two cheese-filled pastries that were still warm. He changed some words with Pam, who was kind enough to give him some ice for his shoulder. Not many people in District 12 had access to ice, but shops like the bakery needed it to keep the ingredients from expiring. He wished the girl good luck for tomorrow as he made his way home.
Nobody was at the house yet-Chuuya's sister, Kouyou, was still at the laundromat, and her husband, Ren, was at the butcher's. He walked through the door, looking at his empty home. It wasn't big, really. It had a kitchen, a small bathroom, a bedroom, and the storage room that got turned into Chuuya's room when Ren moved in. The redhead didn't mind the privacy, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he would actually get some.
"Ah, I see the Slug returns victorious!" the brown-haired boy sighed, lying on his bed. If you could call it a bed. It was a mattress on the floor.
"Don't pretend to be so surprised." Chuuya groaned, tossing one of the pastries to Dazai, slumping down next to him. The brunette's eyes filled with excitement as he took a bite.
"I see, so I was right again," he said, with his mouth full.
"Yeah, like it was so hard to guess his weakness. The guy was a fucking giant, all muscle, no brain. It wasn't that hard to defeat him."
"Aww, Chuuya, don't take the credit away!" the other whined, pushing the redhead's shoulder jokingly, who let out a pained hiss at the contact.
"Shit, are you okay?"Dazai asked, his smile disappearing quickly.
"Yeah, sorry... that fucker just got me good on my shoulder." he looked at his friend."It's nothing."
"Sure.." the other said, with a concerned look on his face. "Can I still treat it?"
Chuuya nodded, taking off his shirt carefully. They sat in silence as Dazai cleaned his wounds, put some kind of cream on them, and bandaged his shoulder. His dad was a doctor, so he had access to all kinds of stuff. After Chuuya's fights, they usually ended up like this. They had an agreement: Dazai would tell Chuuya how to win against his opponents- he would watch some of the previous matches of the said opponent to figure out how Chuuya could defeat them the easiest. The redhead would buy him some food every time as a thank you, which Dazai declined at the beginning, but Chuuya made him accept it anyway.
"Aaand all done," the other said as they put away the leftover bandages. " We're matching now!" he said in a sing-song voice, lifting his bandaged arms up.
"Yeah, just shut up," Chuuya muttered, rolling his eyes. "Thank you, though. It already feels better."
"At your service! Try to be less sluggish next time, so you won't get hit!"
"Says the one who's never been in a fight!"
"I don't need to be in a fight to see that you're slow~."
Chuuya groaned in annoyance."I don't even know why I put up with a bastard like you."
"Chuuya, how could you say that! I'm an amazing friend!"
"Sure, sure, just eat that damn bread I bought you so I won't have to listen to you."
Dazai scoffed and continued eating as Chuuya made his way to the cupboard in his room, which was the only thing there aside from his mattress and a tiny window.
The shelves were full of all kinds of stuff-mittens, spices, cups. But there was only one thing that Chuuya cared about-a small, golden ring. He picked it up, swirled it between his fingers, and looked at the engraving that said: like dahlias, we bloom in August. He got it as a gift five years ago, and it became his amulet very quickly. He never had the heart to sell it- it was like a glowing light in the world of darkness, a piece that wasn't only valuable for its expense, but for the memories it held.
"..have you thought about tomorrow?" he asked the other, still looking at the tiny jewel in his hand.
"Obviously." Dazai sighed."It's the last time we have to participate in this shit."
That was true. Chuuya turned 18 in April, and so did Dazai a few weeks ago. It was the last time they could be picked.
"How many times is your name in there?" the brunette asked, his voice small.
Chuuya scratched his neck, still not looking at the younger boy.
"Sixteen."
Dazai didn't say anything to that. But Chuuya knew how he felt- he was consumed by guilt. His name was there only seven times, since he never needed any extra food for his family. Dazai tried to help Chuuya's family out over the years they'd known each other, but the redhead declined every time, of course. Dazai's family was richer, for sure, but they weren't swimming in money either.
"If we get over the Reaping," Dazai starts, "then we should celebrate."
"Celebrate? How?" Chuuya smiles bitterly. "With buying more bread and eating it with Kouyou and Ren?"
"Or I could go to Gensy's with you."
Chuuya looked up at that, a puzzled look on his face. He went to Gensy's with Dazai one time. The brunette claimed the place was a disgusting, dirty hole filled with short-witted alcoholics and that the smell was unbearable. He complained that Chuuya's other friends were too rowdy and careless. His accusations weren't entirely false. Gensy did not take that lightly and got really mad at the young boy.
They haven't drunk together ever since(if you could call that drinking-they only drank one beer each before Dazai started with his antics.)
"You serious? I thought you hated that place."
Dazai crossed his arms, protesting.
"I don't hate it! It's just kind of disgusting."
"Sure you don't..-"
"Buut, I have never gotten drunk together with the Slug! Or even, drunk at all. It would be the perfect occasion!" he grinned widely, like a child who had eaten too much candy.
Despite being close friends, Dazai and Chuuya were very different.
The redhead enjoyed blowing off some steam with his other friends in the pub, in fights, or occasionally with hunting in the woods with his friends (they haven't been out there for a while, though- a man was caught sneaking into the woods and got whipped really bad.) Unlike him, Dazai didn't really have friends; he only hung out with Chuuya. He didn't like crowds and loud places-he rather enjoyed spending time in the woods alone, examining different kinds of plants. He never went to see Chuuya's fights either. The redhead asked him a few times, but his friend declined harshly every time.
"Well, if you insist," the older smiled."But you will have to apologize to Gensy for calling her pub a 'rotten rathole'."
"Mind you, I thought it was fun wordplay!" the other complained. "But don't you worry, Chuuya. No lady could ever stay mad at me for too long," he winked at the redhead, who was clearly not amused.
Another thing about Dazai was that he never apologized. Never ever. Chuuya had known him for eight years, but he had never heard him say the words: "I'm sorry". Whether they had a fight or he just did something to piss Chuuya off, he never apologized, at least, not verbally- just by giving small gifts or being nicer than usual. Annoying bastard.
They stayed in his room for a couple of hours, talking about things like school or what Dazai had seen in the forest lately. They didn't realize how much time had passed until Kouyou and Ren arrived home. Dazai left shortly after that, leaving them alone for the rest of the night.
"See you next morning, Chuuya! Wear something nice for a change!" he smirked as the redhead flipped him off. Their dinner consisted of the bread Chuuya bought and the reheated cabbage soup Kouyou made for lunch. They spent their dinner quietly with miserable attempts at having a decent conversation. None of them wanted to address the elephant in the room-the Reaping, where Chuuya could still be picked. Kouyou and Ren had been safe for years, and now, Chuuya and Dazai were only a step away from that, too.
"How was work?"Chuuya asked while stuffing his face with the hot, flavorless liquid.
"Nothing special, just the usual," Kouyou muttered, mostly staring at her soup rather than eating it.
"My day was quite eventful," Ren said, with a horrified face. "Two kids tried to sell us dead dog meat, saying it was pig. They were very young..."The man's eyes darkened with sadness." I gave them some very cheap ham when my dad wasn't looking. "
"That's nice of you, Ren." Chuuya smiled. When he first met Ren, he didn't trust him. He thought he would take away all he had left, starting with his sister. Chuuya was only eleven when Kouyou got married to Ren, and he quickly learned that his assumptions were wrong. Very wrong. Ren was one of the most generous people he had ever met. He was kind to everyone around him and had a very good temper, which was useful when Chuuya and his sister got into heated fights. He helped out with money, but he also brought joy back into their lives. Chuuya could never thank him enough.
"About tomorrow, "Kouyou turned to her brother, "I thought... I could make some raisin loaf." Chuuya beamed with joy. The day was full of surprises. Her sister only made raisin loaf on special occasions; she always saved some money for it.
"We could eat some of it before the Reaping, and the rest after it. You could invite Dazai and his dad, too, if you'd like. "
"I would love that," he reached for his sister's hand and squeezed it as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Don't worry, we're gonna have dinner together tomorrow. I promise."Kouyou smiled and squeezed his hand back, even though she knew Chuuya couldn't promise that.
~~~
They went to bed quite late, but it did not matter: they knew they could not sleep anyway. Chuuya laid down on his mattress, barely covering himself with his thin blanket, as the hot weather was still bothering him. His small window was painting his room with silver lines that he always looked at while trying to fall asleep. He could hear dogs barking in the distance, people shouting and crying, some of them singing.
The night before the Reaping was always chaotic. The knowledge that your or your loved one's life can end the following day brings out various reactions in people. Chuuya tried to calm his mind; he really did. But imagining getting picked, imagining Dazai getting picked again-no, that can't happen. No one is that unlucky, not even Dazai.
He held his ring close to his chest, which he had picked up from the shelf earlier. He read the carving on it in the dim light of the moon: Like dahlias, we bloom in August. Chuuya sighed and put the ring next to his mattress. He really hoped he could see the dahlias bloom again.
~~~
He washed away last night's nightmares with a morning bath. He woke up pretty late, all sweaty and scared, thinking his dream was reality for a few seconds. He heated water on the stove, using up some of it for tea. Chuuya felt relieved as he sank into the hot bath. His nightmare was nothing new- it was about the day when Dazai got picked.
How Chuuya froze down and watched the other boy walk up to the stage. The real part of his dream ended there because after that, he was the one who got picked. Both of them were thrown into the Arena, fighting for their lives and killing other tributes... He washed his hair as well, then dressed up in formal wear- one of the rules of the Reaping. It made Chuuya sick; they had to pretend this was some kind of celebration. And to the people in the Capitol, it really was. He picked out his best black trousers and his dad's white button-down, which was too big for the redhead, who pulled the shirt up to his elbows. His hair was still wet when he pulled it into a ponytail and left the house. Dazai, on the other hand, was sleeping like a baby, even though it was noon. He probably took some sleeping pills, Chuuya thought.
"Wake up, Mackerel! We can't be late, Kouyou will kill us," he shouted, pulling the blanket away from the brunette.
"Chuuyaa, just a few more minutes... or hours!" he whined, as they started a tug of war with the blanket. Of course, Chuuya won.
He waited for Dazai to dress up, just like he does every year. He met Daza's dad downstairs, in the kitchen, with a big mug of coffee in his hand.
"Morning, Chuuya," the older man greeted. Daza's dad was a distant and formal man who started doing night shifts at the local hospital in recent years. Chuuya still resented him for that, because that resulted in never spending any time with his son. "How are you doing?"
"Alright, I guess. Anything interesting at the hospital?"
"Not much," he mumbled. " A lot of people are fainting these days. "
"I see...-" he looked around, waiting for Dazai to arrive. Chuuya didn't like their house. It was way nicer and bigger than Chuuya's: they had two floors, a kitchen, a living room, and Genemon's bedroom on the first, Dazai's room, and the bathroom on the second. It was a nice house, but it wasn't a home, or at least, it hadn't been one for years.
Finally, Dazai arrived, all dressed up in formal clothing: brown slacks and a white shirt that almost covered his bandaged arms. He didn't look bad.
"I know I look nice, you don't have to stare Chuuya~."
"Just shut your mouth and get going!"
Dazai didn't say goodbye to his dad, which was nothing new. It's been like that for six years now. As much as Chuuya didn't like Dazai's house, he adored their neighborhood. It was filled with shops and pretty houses, children playing on the streets, and noises other than crying in the air. This place was exceptional in District 12, like an escape from real life. They made their way back to Chuuya's house, where they always spent their lunch before the Reaping. Kouyou made the raisin loaf as promised, and it was delicious with the apple jam that Dazai brought. The four of them sat down together, trying to wash the thoughts of worry away.
"You know," Dazai said, with his mouth full, "I would give everything just to see Kunikida fall on the stage today. It would be hilarious! "Chuuya chuckled. It really would be- the well-put-together Kunikida Doppo making any kind of mistake would be the talk of the year.
"Should I be surprised that you only find fun in seeing people miserable?"
"Not true, I find fun in a lot of things!"
"Like? "
"Anything Chuuya says or does!"
"You saying I'm funny?
"No, just laughable."
"You..-!"
"Can you guys quiet down for just a few minutes?" Kouyou sighed, giving a death glare to both of them. She looked like she could not sleep at all, and she was squeezing Ren's hand like it was her lifeline. To Ren's credit, he didn't say a word about it.
"Sorry," Chuuya muttered and silently flipped the brunette off, who just stuck his tongue out at him. What a child.
The rest of their lunch was rather quiet; it was mostly Dazai and Ren talking about local affairs, like the lack of miners, because a lot of them died due to the underprepared medical facilities. Chuuya curiously listened to them while stuffing his face with the delicious cake. Kouyou didn't even try to join the conversation; she barely touched her food.
As they were leaving, Chuuya glanced back at his home, the house he spent his childhood in with his mom and dad, the one he returned to after his parents' funeral, the one his friend went to when he sought comfort, the one where his family lived. Chuuya would return to this place; he was sure of it.
When they arrived at the plaza outside the Justice Building, they were separated from Kouyou and Ren, as the other two joined the adult section. Both Kouyou and Ren hugged Chuuya tightly, and he saw that they were on the brink of crying. Because this was it.
If he doesn't get picked, he'll live. He will be free. At least, as free as he could be. He watched with a smirk on his face as Dazai tried to reject Kouyou's and Ren's hug, failing miserably. He tried not to laugh when the other came back to him, with his face all red." Just shut up..." the brunette mumbled, but Chuuya wasn't one to tease him about this. Dazai didn't receive a lot of affection from his dad; even if he did sometimes, it wasn't physical. It was nice to see his friend getting the love he needed.
They joined the other kids in the crowd, waiting for the Reaping to start. Some kids were crying, others were pale and silent, and some were throwing up in the corner. Chuuya grimaced, trying to keep his act together. Everything will be fine. They won't be picked.
Everyone went silent when they started to play the movie from the Capitol that they had to watch every year. It was about the rebellion and how the games were made. The Capitol tries to justify the games in the video, but Chuuya only sees red when he hears the words. Peace? Freedom? Who were they trying to trick with that bullshit?
As the movie ended, Mayor Taneda invited Kunikida to the stage. The two men were total opposites in looks and in personality, too. The mayor was a kind man, in his forties, always trying to make people smile. He was a bald, chubby guy with glasses and a kind smile on his face. Taneda wasn't fond of big punishments and strict rules. In contrast, Kunikida Doppo was a young, strict man with long, blond hair, and he looked like he was always thinking about something. He was a rule follower to the heart and one of the lap dogs of the Capitol. Chuuya despised him for that.
"Welcome, District 12!" he said, his voice and face emotionless. "This is the Reaping of the 87th annual Hunger Games. Next, I will pick out two names who will participate in the games. When you hear your name, please come to the stage. You can only volunteer after both tributes have been chosen."
Chuuya held his breath and watched the blonde man walk over to the big glass bowl that contained all the names of the kids who were between 12 and 18. In the past, there were separate bowls for boys and girls, but the Capitol changed that, making the games more "interesting". There was a year when only one girl was picked out of the 24 kids. Chuuya shivered at the memory of it.
Kunikida put his hand in the bowl and picked out the first piece of paper he found. Chuuya could feel his heartbeat rise. He looked over at Dazai, whose eyes were focused on the stage, his breath hitching. Kunikida took a look at the paper and furrowed his eyebrows. Please don't let it be us. Chuuya thought. Please, I would give everything.
"Dazai Osamu."The blonde man said, with deep sadness in his voice. Everybody gasped as they turned to Dazai. Chuuya froze down.
No, this couldn't be happening, not again. He stared at the brunette, whose face went blank at the news. He started to walk towards the stage, but Chuuya grabbed his hand. Dazai looked at him, for the first time since he got picked. He smiled, but it was the fakest smile he's ever seen.
"I guess I'm that unlucky, huh? Just let me go, Slug."
He freed himself from Chuuya's grip and walked up to the stage. Kunikida didn't ask him anything, just looked at him with sympathy on his face. To be picked two times in your life-it seems impossible. But it happened-and it happened to Dazai. Chuuya couldn't move, couldn't speak-just like 6 years ago when Dazai got picked for the first time.
He couldn't let it happen. Dazai couldn't die. Memories rushed through his brain-when he first met Dazai, and he mocked him for his red hair, when he was the only one who understood him after his parent's death, when Chuuya bandaged up his arms, and he cried while the redhead was hugging him, when he helped him with his bruises for the first time... Chuuya stared at the ground, as he made his decision.
He won't let this happen. He can't. He will take Dazai's place; he will be the one who volunteers this time- how he should have, all those years ago. He won't just stand there, silently, and watch his best friend die on television. He would rather sacrifice himself-and he will. No one can stop him.
He thought about Kouyou, who would cry her eyes out and scream at him. But Ren will be there for her, and they can live on together. He thought about Tachihara and the others, who would shake their heads in disbelief that Chuuya would throw his life away just like that. And he thought about Dazai. He didn't know how he would react. Would he be mad? Would he laugh at him? Would he cry for him? No, he would never do that. He would most likely stare at him, with his dead fish eyes, calling him a stupid slug for doing him a favor like that.
But Chuuya didn't care. He took a deep breath, getting ready for the moment. He watched Kunikida pick out a new name from the bowl. This is it, I guess. And then, he hears it. And everything changes.
"Nakahara Chuuya."