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strayed-quokka · 2 years

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his last song || pt 7 || hwang hyunjin

» summary: it was your last year wherein a stroke of luck determined whether or not you could be sent to your likely death. and of course, the last year is when fate tries to play the cruellest game. for not only is it you, but your best friend’s name is caught in the hands of the woman selecting who’s to face their death. and not only that, but a certain career has his eyes set on you, and you doubt that’s a good thing.

» pairing: career hyunjin x district 10 reader ft. district 10 jisung & mentor minho (platonically)

» rating: 16+ for depictions of violence

» genre: hunger games au, fluff, angst, weak enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, unrequited love

» warnings: hyunjin is a threat, violence, blood, murder, they're in the arena finally, constant threat, angst central, threats of drowning, all in all a lot of angst

» words: 9,314 (i'm so sorry idk what happened here)

» previous chapter

» a/n: for once, i don't think i have anything to say other than brace yourselves cause no one is safe 🤧

You had two days left to live.

At least that’s the timeframe everyone had given you, and you were inclined to agree if you didn’t need to prove them otherwise for Jisung’s sake. In two days in the early morning, the time would tick down and mock all twenty four tributes with its finality and the reality of what you’re enduring.

It was more than likely that within the first ten minutes, a handful of them would be lost.

“This is your last day of training. Tomorrow you have the interviews. And then that’s it,” Minho declares, but he’s not making eye contact with you and generally has been keeping himself at a distance. Ever since your score, he’d seemed far away, like he couldn’t come to terms with either of you doing well.

It made you want to yell at him. The first day on the train he’d been so insistent on your survival, but when the chances of it were presented, he didn’t want to hear it, and he wouldn’t tell you why.

“Whatever you haven’t tried yet, forget about it. Just focus on what you think you’re good at,” you mumble an agreement, Jisung far more vocal next to you although it still feels slightly strange between you two. You don’t like the tension between you, but you know you can’t fix it either. Just because you’d talked about it, didn’t mean the hurt went away.

Jisung was still upset, even if he understood. And you were still upset because you knew that even if he’d asked you to, you doubt you’d walk away from another conversation with Hyunjin, when the man himself was so useful to you.

At least until he had an actual weapon in his hand. Then you’d ought to learn to run the other way.

“Can’t we just sneak them out of the Capitol?”

It comes as a surprise to you, to hear Seokhwa speak up with an idea that quite likely would end in everyones death if caught (which was a near guarantee), though you suppose he had always seemed rebellious in the way he behaved.

“You’re out of your mind,” Daehyeon, the more reasonable of the two it seems, answers and ruffles the other man's hair, much to his annoyance as he walks away to find a mirror.

It would’ve been nice to stay just like this. Before coming to the Capitol, you never would’ve seen the appeal, and perhaps if you actually lived here, you still wouldn’t see it, but as a visitor and with the people you met, it had almost grown comfortable.

You wouldn’t mind this place, this floor on which you lived on, and the presence of the two young stylists and Minho, if it was for another purpose.

“I’ll talk to Jaemin today,” is the first thing you tell Jisung that morning when you’re on your way down to the training center. It surprises him, not only because he didn’t think you would even suggest it, but also because he disagrees with your idea.

“Actually, I don’t think you should,” because whilst your best friend had failed to tell you, he almost knew that anyone you spoke to would be a far quicker target for Hyunjin, himself included.

He was at risk, but he wasn’t going to put someone else onto the list of first kills simply because you wanted to listen to Minho.

“But you-”

“Forget what I wanted. I’ve got it-”

“But-��

“I said I got it!”

The silence is painful. You visibly flinch when he yells at you and the instant guilt he feels makes him feel sick. A part of him wants to cry, another part of him wishes for you to yell back and break the two of you entirely so that you focus on your own survival rather than his.

But he can’t do either. He stays silent because it’s the easiest out of everything, and you don’t say anything else to him either.

To say you’re distracted when training would be an understatement. You’re visibly frustrated, hurt by your best friend's missing presence and angry because you don’t feel like you deserve the high score you’d gotten given that you keep missing your targets and even managed to fall down the climbing wall.

Your right hip hurts like hell and you know it’ll bruise, and you want to call it a day before its even begun. Risking any more injury right before the arena is a terrible idea, but walking out of here and facing Minho a few hours early almost seems worse.

“Did you learn nothing from me?”

You sigh, turning back to see Hyunjin hanging upside down from the nets above you, staring at you with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look pleased, another person to add to the list of people who’s upset with you.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you bite back, and you don’t like the instant smirk on his face when you insult him. Your insult goes right over his head, completely undeterred as he flips around and jumps down to land next to you, “shouldn’t you be training?”

“Princess, you’re not being very nice.”

Maybe you should stab Hyunjin, risk your death and call it a day. It’s too tempting, especially with the curved knife you hold that Hyunjin himself preferred over the other blades.

“Is it because little Jisung is making new friends? Didn’t you do it first?”

He circles you, taking calculated steps until his chest is against your back and you nearly stop breathing. You wonder how he’ll scare you when the option to kill you is one that doesn’t cost him his own life.

“That’s not it,” you grip the knife tighter, Hyunjin noticing immediately with an amused glint that can’t easily be ignored, “and I wouldn’t call you a friend.”

“Hmm, I suppose not. Maybe if we were, I’d be more inclined to spare him.”

There’s so many questions you want to ask him. Why he chose you in particular to play these games with, why he agreed to train with you when you were at a considerable disadvantage, and why he never knew when to quit running his smart mouth.

“You’re holding my blade.”

“It’s not yours,” you answer, gripping the handle tighter as Hyunjin moves to face you. He hovers over you, staring at you so intensely that you want to look away but you refuse.

“Do you want to know why I prefer it?”

“I feel like you’ll tell me regardless of my answer,” you respond, and Hyunjin laughs before ripping the blade out of your grasp, studying it, much to your displeasure. You try to reach for it, but Hyunjin holds it too high and stretching your body hurts the hip you fell on earlier enough to make you flinch.

“You’re injured,” but you think he already knew that. While Hyunjin was good at sounding void of emotion and lacking any sort of surprise, you still think it’s an observation that he’d made back when you fell and was only stating now.

“I can manage it.”

“I don’t care if you can-”

“Then shut up,” and suddenly facing Minho a few hours early didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. In fact, it was rather welcoming to be yelled at by your mentor, if it meant getting the hell away from the other tributes, including the career from district two that just never learned when to leave you alone.

As expected, Minho had given you an earful. Why were you wasting the last day you could train because of something so minuscule? Sure, you’d left out the whole ordeal with Hyunjin and rather focused on the injury you’d sustained, but to your mentor, it seemed like you were wasting your little chance of survival.

He confused you greatly, the more you thought of it. And the more you thought of what the hell went through Minho’s head, the worse it got. He’d been so determined to have you survive, except in the beginning he’d been far more inclined to show you how to get there. Now, he simply insulted you with your lack of chance and strength.

You weren’t sure if it was to build character or some sort of reverse psychology or whatever the hell he was trying to do, but you were tired of it. The longer you sat there on the couch in the living room with your mentor pacing back and forth, the more you were inclined to break, and eventually you did.

“Why the hell does it fucking matter if you’ve already made it clear I’m going to die!”

And it works. The man stops pacing and Seokhwa and Daehyeon both stop drawing simultaneously from their respective sketchbooks to stare at you. Minho says nothing, not a word, and you finally stand up, ignoring the sharp pain on the side of your body.

“Well? Do you even have an answer?”

“You’re not doing yourself any favours-”

“That’s not what I’m asking, Minho,” as if he’d timed it, the door opens and Jisung wanders in completely unaware, though his pace slows considerably when he notices the tension within the room. One glance towards Seokhwa and he knows not to ask, standing to one side.

“Do you think I’m going to die?”

“Y/N, don’t ask him-”

“Yes,” he interrupts your stylist without missing a beat, and the finality in his answer is everything you needed to know. Minho had absolutely no faith in your ability to survive or in you as a person. That, or you were missing yet another piece to Minho that you needed in order for anything to make sense.

Whatever it was, the world felt a little bleaker as you laid awake all night. Even when Jisung asked to join you, hesitating as you let him into your arms, you still couldn’t sleep. It’s like you wanted to appreciate being conscious and aware until it all stopped, and Minho had made none of it easier.

“No, I hate that. Change it,” you’re being pulled left and right, Daehyeon at the center of chaos as he tells the hairstylist to fix a loose strand of hair. You’re in a corseted dress that feels far too tight (hell, you think Daehyeon just about nearly cracked your ribs with how he pulled the strings), but it’s beautiful. It’s a blood red matching your lips stained the same, and you’re not quite sure what it has to do with your district but you don’t ask either.

Daehyeon must’ve thought something behind it.

“No, that’s not… let me,” he grabs a few pins and gets to work on some last minute touches, in the meantime you stare ahead at where Jisung is with Seokhwa. You want to laugh, seeing the fox eyed man look so pleased with himself that he doesn’t really seem to be making any adjustments.

Your best friend is wearing something that relates to your own dress, a form fitting black top with a similar corset lacing around his thin waist, a red cropped jacket hung over.

“He looks nice,” you mumble, Daehyeon looking up to where your eyes are staring.

“He does,” he turns you around to face him, tilting his head back as if to get a whole image of the hours he’s spent on making you look perfect, “but so do you.”

“It’s a nice dress,” you admit, running your fingers along the fabric, “but I don’t know if I suit it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I made it for you.”

You nod, looking in the mirror one last time before you’re brought to… well… you’re not actually quite sure. The only place you could navigate to by heart realistically was the training center, and that’s because you spent nearly every day since your arrival there. So you follow blindly instead, to a narrow hallway with tributes already lined up, dressed so beautifully that you feel out of place, even if you’re dressed up much the same, if not more dressed up.

“Do you know what you’ll say?”

You don’t. You haven’t thought of it at all, so you answer Jisung rather honestly, “no idea. Depends on the question.”

“Minho didn’t ask you?”

“Did he ask you?” you feel a sense of betrayal if that were the case. If Minho was prioritising giving your best friend advice over you, although you don’t think he’d do that.

“No. I haven’t spoken to him much since the scoring,” you lean against the wall, feeling particularly bad suddenly as you think ahead of what could come. Once the interview is done, your mentor and both stylists will be waiting for you. At least that’s what you’d been told, and it’s the only thing that makes you look forward to getting onstage.

Knowing that it’ll be over right after.

The male of district one, you find out is called Youngjae. You’d been right to assume he was strong, given that his clothes defined every muscle in his body and it was scary. He wasn’t the biggest of the male tributes in height, but he was definitely one of the strongest and that was nearly worse.

He seemed charming enough, not in the way Hyunjin was but he still drew the audience in. He was relaxed, acting as if things were so easy, and you almost believed that to him, they really were.

Hyunjin is brought onto the stage not long after, and you’re surprised that you hadn’t noticed him earlier. You supposed being eight districts apart meant that you wouldn’t be near him in the lineup in the hall, but still, you would’ve expected to see him if he’d been present. Hyunjin always ensured he wasn’t missed.

He looked like royalty.

His hair was styled simply, the black strands framing his face as only some had been brushed back behind his ears, and you noticed an earring dangling on one side in what you could only assume was real silver. You didn’t even know he had his ears pierced, but it was definitely real and not just a prop.

His shirt was a simple pure white, so clean and kept that it looked completely unworn, brand new and pristine as it sat over his body. Everything about him looked elegant, every bit of him expensive, and you thought he represented his district perfectly.

“Do you think he’s ever scared of anything?” you break away from Hyunjin on the small screen to face your best friend upon hearing his question, shrugging. It was hard to think of him as ever being afraid, but if you were to believe a part of him was human or at least in touch with his emotions, he had to be afraid at some point.

Humans never went without fear. You couldn’t picture him being an exception, yet it was just as hard to picture him in a position of fear.

“He has to be,” there was no way he wasn’t.

“Your family, your brother in particular, has always been very vocal about his distaste for district ten. Do you share those views?”

Now this got interesting.

The mention of Felix has Hyunjin perk up, even smile, and it’s beautiful, because it feels so real. He’s not smiling in a way of malice or sarcastically, but rather genuinely, and you don’t think you’ve ever quite seen that before.

He really was stupidly attractive.

“I think me and my brother approach it differently,” do you? That’s your first thought. In your mind, both Hyunjin and Felix both approached it rather violently, if your memory serves you right. Then again, maybe you were wrong, and maybe they weren’t quite the same.

Maybe Felix would’ve been far worse to face than Hyunjin.

“But the end goal is the same. I can’t say how long they’ll survive but I’ll make sure they’re gone eventually.”

It’s a threat, one met with cheers and you nearly throw up. It’s comical to you, how much everyone enjoys this and the way Hyunjin speaks to the crowd to pull at their heartstrings even though none of you were involved. If anything, Hyunjin should have it out for Minho, but he was never even mentioned.

“We have reports though, that you have been speaking to the female of district ten a lot. Is this true?”

“See, now it got interesting,” Jisung whispers next to you, not saying it from a place of malice but rather an amused observation.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“He’s honest,” you whisper back, shrugging slightly but still very curious to see where this is going.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t like an easy win.”

“That fucking-” your best friend hits your arm, stopping you from saying anything else. God, you could so easily hate Hyunjin, but then you never quite did either. You felt completely cursed.

“She’s an easy target,” okay, so maybe you could start hating him a little more easily, “I don’t like an easy target.”

“You helped her train?”

“A little. Though her district partner wasn’t very pleased,” he chuckles, and you feel Jisung tense next to you. You’re not sure what Hyunjin is doing, but you know he’s definitely doing something. Whatever he’s thinking is perfectly planned out.

“Oh, and why’s that?”

There it is.

Hyunjin’s plan comes to fruition. You see it in the way his face forms into a lazy grin, chuckling as he tempts Caesar with the answer, the crowd silently anticipating what he has to say, “I think he’s in love with her. Isn’t it tragic?”

“He’s dead,” Jisung’s already pushed himself off the wall to walk onto the stage, but you pull him back with the strength you have to keep him in place, apologising to the girl from nine at the commotion next to her.

“You cannot go out there.”

“He’s lying!”

You don’t know why it stings. It’s not that the thought of you or Jisung being more than friends had never crossed your mind. But whenever it did, it crossed your mind in a silent observation that maybe there was something, until you dismissed it because you liked how you were.

He was your closest friend and you cherished that, and you never really thought of it as anything romantic, even with the marriage pact you both had made as a joke to keep you both somewhat steady for the reaping's every year.

Believing that Jisung would love you in the romantic sense was absurd to you, even now.

“Why does it matter?”

“It ruins our odds. He’s just put us in even more danger,” so that was Hyunjin’s plan. He’d hoped you’d be brought up, played Caesar right into the questions he wanted to be asked, until he could lie and spin things to his own truth to make you more vulnerable.

You’d always been vulnerable, sure, being with your closest friend in a game of survival had always been your biggest weakness. Minho had ensured you knew that if you didn’t already come to the conclusion yourself. The problem was, now everyone else believed that vulnerability to be even more of an asset to defeating you both.

The fact that you and Jisung were doomed to each other had been between the two of you. Hyunjin had ensured it would be known to everyone else.

You were, in the nicest phrasing you could think of, completely fucked.

The next few tributes are drowned out. You don’t pay attention, neither does Jisung, and you know that Minho is sensing it somewhere and cursing you both out. He’s probably reeling from Hyunjin just as much. You don’t blame him.

Jaemin’s next, and it’s the first time you get a proper look at him. He looks incredibly sweet, with a beautiful bright smile and childlike eyes. He’s tall and slim, but he looks very young, with near white hair that makes him near angelic. It doesn’t feel fair to see him there.

You know the capital like him too, they swoon at him with everything he says. He’s quick and charming, a little flirtatious, playing into the crowd and honestly, you know now why Minho had picked him to be your ally. He’d seen it far earlier than you, but Jaemin really could play in your favour.

It annoyed you again to know Minho had been right.

“Is he really that sweet or is it fake?”

“He’s very much like that,” Jisung answers you, watching the screen just like you until you’re both distracted again by something else. District six doesn’t particularly interest you. Actually, none of the other districts really do. Maybe you’ll come to regret that when one of them inevitably kills you, though for now you just wait.

Until your name is called and you just want to run away.

“You’re fine. Get it over with. It can’t be that bad,” well, you suppose it could always be worse. Tomorrow would be worse.

Walking out onto the stage with cheers from strangers that can’t wait to see you take your last breath leaves a very bitter taste in your mouth, but you try to smile and wave at them anyway. It works well, they’re receptive enough as Caesar leads you to your seat. You’re thankful that the blinding lights make it hard to see anyone, because you think if you actually saw faces, you’d grow far too nervous to speak.

“Welcome, how are you feeling?”

He’s serious from the get go, but there’s always a hint of something kind and playful. Caesar was certainly an interesting character to finally meet up close, “I’m feeling alright?”

It comes out as more than a question that everyone responds to with a laugh. You don’t know how to feel. Maybe you should be more afraid, but you supposed the initial terror of the reaping's had now faded into the background because nothing would change it anyway. It’s like you’d finally accepted it, but you as a whole just felt numb to most of it. The only thing that bothered you the most in the back of your mind was the fact that you and Jisung didn’t feel as close.

“You seem a little nervous,” you chuckle, and you leave a brief pause to think of where you want to twist this conversation. Ultimately, you decide that if Hyunjin made you his target, you’d enjoy making him yours.

“I mean, it’s not every day I get threatened on television,” you shrug it off, as if it means nothing to you even when your heart threatens to break your ribcage with the way it shatters against the bone.

“Are you talking about the male from district two. Hyunjin?”

There’s murmurs in the crowd and anticipation in the air, making this the first time that you feel in control of something. It’s the first time you feel like you have genuine power in a situation since getting here.

“It’s a shame, really.”

“And why is that?” you internally apologise to Minho. Maybe you should apologise to everyone, including yourself, but you’re not stopping yourself either. All you had to do was ensure Jisung survived. That was the only fact that rung true, everything else, everything you said or did, didn’t matter. If you emphasised that you were the target, it would help him.

“He thinks he’s more than just a pretty face,” there’s gasps, whispers that you can’t make out, “I don’t like empty threats, Caesar.”

You don’t really expect the crowd to go as wild as they do, but you see them stand and clap for you, saying things that become an inaudible mess. It takes a few more seconds to process that they like you, and maybe you can throw that in Minho’s face. He did tell you that sponsors were your best bet, and here was a room full of them.

You come off the stage and the adrenaline is immediately gone. Your legs feel like they’ll give in beneath you, but you also feel equally proud of yourself.

“You sly little fox,” Seokhwa is the first to find you, pulling you into a hug with a laugh, adjusting the back of your dress when he does (he can’t help it, it’s in his job description), before he pulls away, “you really have some guts.”

“I can’t believe you,” it’s Daehyeon, but he doesn’t seem as disappointed as he sounds. He’s hiding a grin, arms crossed as he looks at you, “you threatened Hyunjin, of all people.”

“And it worked,” Minho comes into view, and he’s looking right into your eyes. You think this is the longest he’s held eye contact with you in some time, and even he seems to be hiding a smile, “at first I thought you were on a suicide mission.”

It was a valid assumption. Hyunjin deciding to kill you first was still a very real possibility. Especially now.

“But I think you may have just upped your odds,” and he doesn’t say it, but you feel like Minho is proud of you. His eyes give it away.

“I have to ask… are you in love with her?”

Your attention is brought back to the screen, though now you’re not stuck in a narrow hall in a line of people. You’re rather free to wander, simply waiting for your best friend. A set of eyes are on you, and from afar you catch Hyunjin staring at you.

It does make you uneasy, but you decide to focus on it later instead.

“We’ve been best friends for years. Even when her mother didn’t like me, she’d still be around me. I value her a lot but… no. I don’t love her,” it’s hard to tell if he’s lying. A part of you is entirely convinced he’s telling the truth and the crowd seems to believe it too, but a smaller portion thinks that maybe he’s saying it because he has to.

You wonder if maybe, just like you and Hyunjin and probably nearly every other tribute here, he’s playing into a game or a strategy.

“Let’s say it’s only the two of you left, what would you do?”

“Easy, he dies,” Seokhwa scoffs, arms crossed and unamused entirely by the question. Whilst you think that may be the answer, it really depends on what situation Jisung is trying to create.

“My family needs me to come home,” it gains sympathy. You hear it as the crowd awes but is equally shocked at what they think the answer is.

“So, you’re saying you’ll kill her?”

“I don’t want to,” the silence is complete agony. You’re ready to scream, but you don’t manage, “but I will if I have to.”

The chaos after Jisung’s interview is one you should've been expecting.

“What the actual fuck are you doing!?” Minho has gripped your best friend by his collar, and you, Daehyeon and Seokhwa have to all rip him away from the boy dangling against the wall trying to breathe, “have you lost your mind!?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he’s far more collected than your mentor and it surprises you. Minho reacted emotionally a lot, you had noticed that, but you’d never seen him react with such rage before. Usually, his reactions could be brought back to grief and a deep sadness of what he had to experience himself, as well as the occasional frustration, but never did he violently respond like this.

"Do you?”

“Minho, leave it,” it’s a demand from Daehyeon that has Minho back away, but his eyes still give away the anger he’s exuding. You notice the crowd around you, keeping their distance but all obviously staring, and you find Hyunjin and Youngjae in one corner, watching on rather amused.

Maybe you should be hurt. Jisung had admitted that he’d end your life if given no other choice. You think the only reason you’re not more upset is simply because you don’t really believe it.

“No one’s going to give you anything no-”

It clicks. It clicks for all four of you at what Jisung is doing and it leaves you more upset than what he’d actually said. You realise quickly that as much as you want to cry, you can’t do it here. If everyone sees you have yet another breakdown, then Hyunjin is right in calling you weak.

So you run away. You’re not particularly good at running in heels, and that combined with a corset digging into your ribs and cutting off vital air supply and a healing bruise on your hip, it surprises you that you even get somewhere far at all. You suppose the only reason you do is because no one tries to stop you.

Ending up outside was not part of the plan. A garden with a fountain in the middle where you sit on the cold stone and watch your reflection in the water, slowly breaking apart with the ripples you make with your fingers.

Daehyeon had done a good job in making you feel beautiful, you must admit, but your make-up starts to feel ruined as you cry.

Jisung was the least selfish person you’d ever met and this had proved it, except what he’d done to prove it to you had made everyone else think he was only out for himself. He risked the possibility of sponsors, of getting any help in the games to earn you sympathy instead, so that you had a greater chance.

He had lied. He’d lied that he’d kill you so that no one would want to save him if he ever needed it.

The sobs racking through your body sounded pathetic but you couldn’t help it. Jisung had played the game far better than you so far. All you’d done was use the brief confidence you had to make things worse. At least that’s what it felt like.

“Two times I’ve seen you cry. Really hope it’s the last,” it’s the night right before the games, and you sincerely wish you could tell Hyunjin to leave you alone. Though you don’t find your voice at all to do so, instead feeling his presence as he sits across from you, watching the water silently at first.

“So… you think I’m pretty?”

If his aim was to make you laugh, it had been successful. You chuckle, rubbing your eyes and you nearly wince at what you must look like, given the remnants of glitter and mascara that are now visible on your fingers, “that’s your takeaway?”

“I mean, I don’t hear it a lot.”

“That’s obviously a lie,” you scoff, daring to look up at him, and he can’t hide his grimace as he sees the state you’re in. You want to appreciate his honesty, that Hyunjin would likely not lie if you asked if you still looked presentable, but it still stings a little to see his reaction to you.

“Maybe it’s a little lie,” he moves, his long legs reaching the ground as he pushes himself closer to you, sitting by your hips. He’s close, very close, and you feel like you’re suffocating when he dips his hands into the water and brushes his thumb under your eyes, “you have mascara everywhere.”

“I’m surprised you know what that is.”

“I have a-” a pause, “had a sister.”

You want to say you’re sorry. In a way, you are, but you’re also grateful that Minho isn’t dead. That you have at least one past tribute that could mentor you. Some districts didn’t have a single one.

“You know… I don’t want to say it-”

“Then don’t,” he glares, his face immediately falling into a scowl but it’s only brief because you’re smiling.

“But I’m impressed,” he dips his hands into the water again, rubbing his palms together and getting rid of whatever make-up is on his fingers before he repeats the action. His touch is cold with the water and the air around you both, but you still feel warm from it, “I didn’t think I’d have you threatening me.”

“You threatened me first. Multiple times.”

“Because I want you dead,” it’s a contrast to the way he’s caring for you now. It nearly makes you dizzy, because how can he be so gentle with you out in the dark when his next intention is to have you dead?

“And you think I want you alive?”

“Of course not,” he’s silent again, repositioning himself yet again to sit further away from you. It frustrates you, that this newfound distance bothers you. You liked to have him close, not because it was Hyunjin in particular, but because you liked someones presence near to comfort you. It just happened to be him.

“Can I ask you a question that I know you won’t answer?”

“Sounds a bit counterproductive but I suppose it won’t hurt to try,” you nod, clearing your throat before looking at him. He’s illuminated beautifully by the night sky and the city lights, the shadows on his face a gorgeous contrast to his light skin.

“Are you not at all afraid?”

It’s a question he hadn’t expected to be asked. Hyunjin wasn’t easily scared of anything. At least he presented himself to be that way. But when he really thought of it, Hyunjin was afraid of a lot of things. It’s very brief, but his face falls for just a second when you ask, and you know that any answer that tells you no, is a lie.

Hyunjin is afraid, but he’s built himself to have everyone believe otherwise.

Only he had to know how scared he sometimes was.

“I don’t feel afraid very easily,” you want to tell him that you think he’s lying, but you suppose you don’t gain anything from having Hyunjin tell you the truth. Besides, maybe you were wrong, and maybe Hyunjin really didn’t care at all.

“Not that I really care to know,” he starts, in his typical nonchalant careless fashion that makes you want to roll your eyes, “but how do you feel about tomorrow?”

Terrified. Sick. Angry. Scared. Nauseous.

The list describing how you felt was endless, so all you say is, “fine.”

He laughs, and again it feels genuine. The way his lips turn up is the way he had when Felix had been brought up, and it makes your cheeks feel warm.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“You act like you know me,” you kick off your heels, standing up before picking them up. You’re ready to call it a night, and it’s far better for you to find your way back than have anyone catch you with Hyunjin of all people.

“I have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

“Hyunjin,” he can’t remember a time you’ve ever said his name. It leaves him staring rather stupidly, unsure of what to say or how to respond. It sounds rather… sweet on your lips, gentle, spoken far nicer than most said it.

“You should be smart enough to know that’s not true.”

You expect yelling. When you walk into the dorm with heels in hand and make-up ruined on your face, you really expect the worst. Instead, you’re met with something that feels strangely cozy, almost domestic, and makes the reality of tomorrow hit even harder.

Jisung, Minho, Daehyeon and Seokhwa are all hovered over a board game (something you didn’t even realise existed here anymore, if you were honest). When Minho sees you first, he greets you with a smile that feels so out of character, you wonder if you knocked your head. Or maybe Hyunjin already killed you and you’ve come upon some strange afterlife.

Everyone looks up the minute Minho makes your presence known, and as if he’s your mother, Seokhwa immediately tsks and walks up to you, magically having a make-up remover already on hand.

“You look terrible,” he comments, but it’s affectionate as he begins to remove the remnants of product on your face.

“I looked worse, believe it or not,” but you don’t tell him that Hyunjin is the reason you walked back somewhat presentable.

“You want to join us?” Daehyeon asks, and you can tell the question masks his concern. He wants to ask you, of course he does, but he doesn’t want to kill the peaceful mood that he and Seokhwa had somehow managed to create between Minho and Jisung after you ran off. It had taken most of their energy.

“I’ll shower first.”

Daehyeon walks after you, wordlessly undoing the back of your dress so that you can slip out of it, eventually leaving you alone. You spend far less time in the shower than you wish to, as if staying here would leave you safe from the games that you’d be in in less than twelve hours.

When you join them, Jisung hands you your game piece without a word, and you take it from him without a second thought. However, when you retract your hand, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, making you look up at him.

You can tell from one glance that he’s sorry.

“It’s okay,” you say. There’s nothing you could do anyway, and you know that despite what he said, he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. You both have a bedtime,” Minho comments, eyes going between you both before he rolls the dice. You don’t argue with him, even if it’s tempting, but you worry that whatever warmth he feels towards you in this moment will go away the minute you question him or his authority.

You liked this Minho a lot more, when he was kind but still bit back with occasional comments, similar to Seokhwa in character, and you know Jisung prefers it too. It’s a reminder of his friend, of who he wishes he’d had as a mentor this whole time, rather than the stoic and rather aggressive nature in which he usually spoke.

Eventually, you have to agree that going to sleep is probably better. Even if you want to hold it off, you can’t. And you feel betrayed by your body when sleep finds you so easily, only speeding up time that you wish would stop as you rest in Jisung's arms one last time.

“Remember, do not be dumb and run into that bloodbath. That’s your quickest ticket to suicide,” Minho is there with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall as Daehyeon adjusts your suit. You actually don’t mind the outfit you’d gotten, a black bodysuit that seems to be made of some waterproof material, hugging your figure tight, as well as something similar to a leather harness that sits in-between your chest and goes around your waist and back before it clasps at the front like a belt.

You're not sure if the harness is there as a decorative piece, but seeing the empty loops make you wonder if it's made to keep weapons close on hand.

To be honest, you have no idea what to expect after seeing the clothes you got. It could be anything from a dessert to mountainous cold terrain, or anything in-between.

“I won’t. But how do I get weapons?”

“Find them. Craft them. Reach for something if it’s close to you. But don’t go in there. You’ll regret it.”

“Listen to him. It’s a bad idea,” you nod, looking down at your trembling hands as you release a breath, “now, I don’t know what the games look like this year. But given the clothes I’d say it’s close to water. Can you swim?”

“I can swim. Not well, though,” you mumble, letting him zip up the last bit of your bodysuit at the back, adjusting the way your harness sits by your shoulders by tightening it.

“Doesn’t need to be well if they’re all busy killing each other. You’ll get away,” Minho comments, still leaning against that same wall, like he’s afraid of coming closer to you.

“I thought you said I was dead anyway,” you scoff, unable to help yourself.

“Don’t make me right,” maybe it shouldn’t, but in a rather twisted way, his words encourage you. You don’t want Minho to be right. Everything he’d ever said to you to gain a reaction, you’d always wanted to prove wrong.

You weren’t the strongest, but you refused to be the weakest and have everyone be right about you.

“I made it,” Seokhwa walks in, wearing a beautiful half open button down that hangs loose over his shoulder with leather trousers, eyes decorated in glittery shadow. You note how rushed he seems, making you frown, “I have to run back to Jisung but-”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” he thinks for a moment, correcting himself, “well, as fine as he can be.”

You sigh, letting Daehyeon tighten the braid in your hair, as if he really wants to ensure that not a single strand can fall out and block your vision.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” it’s the way he says it, the finality in those words that makes everything more real. His goodbye could mean very little, but to you it feels final, like you’ll never see him again, and you practically tear him into your arms to hug him.

“Stop being stupid,” he laughs against you, but you know he’s being anything but. It’s a painful reminder again, how badly you wished you could’ve known him longer.

“I can’t believe I’m being left out,” but Daehyeon barely finishes before he’s being pulled into the hug, both of them keeping you securely locked in as if they can somehow keep you from your fate.

The action makes you want to cry, but it’s the very last thing you want to do. You know they’ll be watching the games, but you can only hope that before you leave them now, they’ll remember you smiling.

“Minho,” you tilt your head and meet his gaze, your invitation being met with him rolling his eyes. You’re about to give up, but something makes him change his mind as he begrudgingly comes over and lets himself be pulled in.

It makes your heart warmer. Even before Minho became a shell of himself, he’d never been one for physical contact. Actually, you were fairly sure that he hated it, so him letting himself in on it made you feel like maybe he didn’t entirely dislike you. Maybe he’d even miss you.

Though you weren’t about to get ahead of yourself.

“I have to go. I don’t want Jisung to go up alone,” you sigh, letting Seokhwa leave your little bubble first before Minho follows, if only to get away from the contact, but Daehyeon still has his arm over your shoulder, and it keeps you grounded in this moment.

“If I come back…” you start, because you know that’s a very, very big if, “we can be friends, right?”

Seokhwa stops with his hand on the door, already ready to run right back to you. His cold exterior melts quickly, because despite his nature and hard gaze, he cares for you and Jisung both. He’d really grown to like the two of you in the little time he had, and never did he wish for someone to come back this much.

It was likely the first time he’d ever felt truly bothered by who was being sent into the games to die. Usually, while he didn’t like it too much, he didn’t care that much either. He was good at distancing himself, to know that it was his job and that once his tribute was up there, that would be it.

This time, he’d broken his own code and now he was doomed, because now he cared and had lost his resolve.

“Sure, but I’m not moving to district ten.”

He gives you a final wave goodbye and then Minho is at the door too, “I ehrm… I should see Jisung too.”

Minho looks apologetic, almost guilty for leaving you, but you honestly can’t say you don’t understand. If anything, you hope that Jisung gets the same goodbye that you did.

“It’s okay,” he nods, relieved, until you say one thing that breaks the false illusion he'd made that he wouldn't care about the outcome, “if I don’t… make it. If somehow Jisung does… please don’t leave him alone again.”

You receive a defeated mumble, something along the lines of I won’t, but he’s out of the room so quickly, you barely catch it. In a way, you’d expected nothing less.

You’ll never know really, that Minho nearly cried when he left you.

“Tributes, you have five minutes,” you suppose you could panic. Maybe that would’ve been the natural response, but you can’t really bring yourself to cry or scream. You just stand there with your stylist right in front of you, saying nothing at first.

“I know it’s going to be hard. I don’t know what they’re planning this year but… the gamemakers lover to show off-”

“You don’t need to try to reassure me.”

“It’s a habit, I guess,” he sighs, crossing his arms. You distract yourself by admiring the jacket he’s wearing, pristine white in a shade similar to Hyunjin’s dress shirt, contrasting the blue hair that’s on his head. He keeps looking at you, unsure of what to say while you focus in on the thigh belt that’s tight around his trousers, “I’d give it to you but… it could be a weapon and-”

“And you don’t want to risk dying.”

“I can’t risk it if I have to greet you on your way out,” you manage a smile, and you surprise yourself how often you’ve managed to in the past few hours.

“I guess that’s fair,” he sighs, his head dropping to the floor, as does yours.

“You dress really well, you know? It makes sense that you do what you do,” Daehyeon smiles, though it’s weak as he’s deep in thought.

“If you’re trying to distract me-”

“It’s not working. I know,” the reminder of two minutes makes your posture straighten, because you know where you need to go next, and a sinking feeling threatens to swallow you whole.

“I’m not allowed to give you anything but…” he holds out a little pendant, a half wing that belongs to an angel. It’s small, easily missed, and you feel like that’s the exact intention as he unzips the small pocket by your wrist, one that’s likely useless for just about everything else, “don’t ever take it out. Just remember it’s there.”

“I won’t,” now there’s a countdown, droning so loud, and you pull Daehyeon into one final hug before he’s leading you into a rather claustrophobic lift made out of glass that’s going to bring you up into an environment you don’t know and will likely never fully learn the scope of.

“You’ll be fine,” but you think he’s trying to convince himself almost more than he can convince you.

“Make sure Minho doesn’t get too… I don’t know… Minho?”

He chuckles, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say, “I promise.”

The tube closes before you can say anything else, and your heart breaks into a million pieces when you have to wave Daehyeon goodbye. Maybe you’ll never see him again, the chance of it being high, and his smile is so bittersweet and tragic as he waits there until he can’t see you anymore.

He’s gone and everything feels colder. You’re not around anything familiar. Even Jisung isn’t with you, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so alone in your life.

The light nearly blinds you at first, your eyes taking a good minute to adjust until you notice where you’re standing.

You’re surrounded by dark waters that lay unmoving, and you realise you’re standing in the middle of possibly the largest lake you’ve ever seen. Tributes are spaced out equally, land surrounding you but seeming so far away at the same time as it’s equally close as the Cornucopia is to you, laying near the other side of the lake on a small piece of rocky land that connects onto the larger scale of forest behind it.

The forest, as far as you can see, has trees pressed so closely together, that it must be near impossible to see much of anything at night. That, and running between them will take considerable skill and agility. Behind them in the distance, you can make out mountains, and if your eyes don’t deceive you, most of it seems covered in snow.

You’re not sure how that’s possible. The temperatures aren’t near cold enough, though you suppose going from one climate into the next wasn’t unheard of in these games. You wished you had a jacket.

The countdown starts, each number taunting you, but you try to ignore it to see where the tributes that you know are placed. Jisung is on the opposite side to you, and his eyes meet yours for a second until they stay on you fully.

You give him a smile, one he returns but you know it’s not real, before finding Hyunjin far too close to you for your liking. He’s three tributes away from you to your left, and he’s already caught you. He’s taunting you with his grin, as if challenging you to your false threats.

Jaemin is beside you on your left as well, and if the space between all of you wasn’t so large, you may even whisper over to him to say something. He looks petrified, far more afraid than you’d ever seen him. In his interview, he’d seemed far more confident. You started to wonder what the hell changed.

“Ten,” your eyes widen, realising you’d been so distracted in taking in your surroundings and everyone else, that you completely forgot how little time a minute really is. You can make out weapons, backpacks and some other supplies in the distance, some closer than others as if to tease you enough to risk it. Maybe you’d even find a knife or two if you’re lucky.

Though Minho had made it so painfully clear that you shouldn’t take that risk.

You were just debating if you should listen.

“Five,” you spare another glance at Jaemin, seeing the way his knuckles are clenched, and then another look at Hyunjin, who’s already ready to jump off this ridiculously small platform to swim to the Cornucopia.

There was no doubt that he could swim fast.

“One,” you hear splashing from left and right, loud ripples in the water creating waves and disturbing the peace that once was. You already hear someone scream not far away, and the terror in which the girl cries with has you finally moving, jumping in yourself.

You’re not sure where to go. It’s like your brain suddenly can’t think now that you’re finally in this very real situation where there are near to no rules, but your instincts tell you that you need a weapon. However, not even a quarter of the way do you see that some tributes have already made it to shore, Hyunjin being one of them (you were right, he is fast), and death is already so real and present before you.

It’s when you see Hyunjin run a knife through a young male tributes throat with little to no disregard, that you seem to reconsider the very reckless thought you’d had, especially because his eyes find yours and he’s grinning maniacally, jumping back into the water.

“Fuck,” you turn around, ready to swim to the other side, when you realise that Jaemin is still on his platform. He hasn’t moved an inch, petrified, and like fresh bait just waiting for someone to kill him. For a moment, you pause and think, telling yourself that you could swim past him and away from danger, leave him in his own predicament, but his eyes look so scared and you can’t bring yourself to ignore him.

“Jaemin!” his name from your lips makes him jump, but he calms down just slightly when he realises it’s you and not a career with an intent to kill, “you have to move!”

“I can’t!”

Though he crouches down, closer to the surface of the water as you briefly turn back around and see tributes already laid out dead for you to see. To your absolute horror, Hyunjin is nowhere to be seen anymore.

To you, the scariest feeling in the world is not knowing where Hyunjin is when seconds before, he’d been swimming towards you.

“We have to go,”

“I c-can’t swim. Just leave me,” and you could. You even debate it again and you know that if Minho was watching, he’d likely be telling you to. You’ve already overstayed your welcome being far too close to the Cornucopia for far too long.

That being said, you couldn’t bring yourself to let him die without ever having a chance to really survive.

“Jump in. Hold onto the edge-” you yelp, feeling something similar to a blade graze your shoulder, a knife that now falls into the water and begins to sink, a warning. When you turn, Hyunjin is stood tall on one of the other platforms, his hair clinging to his skin and matted down, his head tilted slightly as he watches you both. His harness that matches yours is adorned with a set of knives, and you know the very real threat he poses to you both.

“Just go!” the tribute next to you screams, knowing the threat that’s stood not too far from either of you, but you refuse.

“No! Jump!” finally, Jaemin does, and you take that time to dive under in an attempt to retrieve the knife in the darkness. It’s a weapon after all, the only one you may get in a while. You somehow, likely by sheer luck, manage to find the circular tip of the handle that your finger can slip between, resurfacing seconds later with your newfound ally (you guessed), gripping the edge of his platform while the rest of him splashes around in the water, his light hair partially wet.

“Here,” you come over, removing one of his fingers to wrap it around your shoulder, hissing when he digs into your bleeding wound.

“I’ll weigh you down,” though he lets you pull him in, gripping onto you like you’re his lifeline.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” even though he’s right. He may have been slim in build, but he still weighed something. That, combined with the fact that he couldn’t swim, made this far more difficult.

“Just move your feet, don’t flail. We’re gonna go this way,” you point in the direction of the forest behind you, the mountains closer than the ones on the side of the Cornucopia, Jaemin attempting to move the way you do. It’s no secret that he’s slowing you down massively, but you’re convinced you can both make it onto shore safely. Especially considering that almost everyone else had either headed the other way or was far gone by now.

Well, everyone but Hyunjin.

“Hey, Princess!” you freeze, only turning because you fear another knife in your other uninjured shoulder if you don’t. You grip Jaemin tighter, keeping him steady as you float in the water, Hyunjin still far closer than you’d like him to be.

“What!?”

Maybe you’re crazy to provoke him. Hell, you are crazy and you shouldn’t definitely make it to shore before your body gives out and Jaemin drowns. Or worse, until you’re caught by someone. That someone seems to be Hyunjin himself.

“I thought I told you not to make this easy for me?”

You’re about to respond, but Hyunjin doesn’t give you that chance. The other knife he’d been holding with a sharply curved blade now hangs between his lips, and he’s jumped into the water where you were not moments before to follow you.

Hyunjin had found his prey, and unfortunately for you, you were currently far too easy to catch.

can't believe it took seven chapters BUT we finally made it. originally in the very first draft, the chapter they get to the games in was meant to end at the countdown, but i was like i can't have it end right at the start after it's taken near double the time to get here lmao.

i'm gonna really miss writing minho, daehyeon and seokhwa into scenes 🤧 but we shall see them again perhaps 👀

comments, feedback etc always appreciated and yeah, see you in the next chapter maybe?

also what do ya'll think of jaemin 👉👈

|| masterlist ||

taglist: @crispy-chan, @hyunjinspark, @geniejunn, @she-wintersoldat, @a-person-with-void, aletacroker

next chapter

#skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #skz han #straykidsland #series #hunger games au #skz minho #skz felix #wei daehyeon #wei seokhwa #nct jaemin #tbz eric

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