𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male reader

Chapter 6

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(M/N) strode towards the elevator, ignoring the flabbergasted guards as he hit the number twelve button. The doors closed as the elevator moved upwards. He managed to make it back to his floor before the tears started flowing down his cheeks. He could hear the others calling him from the sitting area, but he sped up to his room, slammed the door, and flopped onto his bed. That's when the tears came at full force.

Now I've done it, I've ruined everything! If I even had the tiniest chance, I trampled on it when I sent that arrow at the Gamemakers. 

He wondered what would happen to him now. Would he be arrested? Executed? Would they cut out his tongue and turn him into an avox? 

What was I thinking? Oh, right. I wasn't. He sighed as he rolled onto his back and wiped the tear stains of his face. What does it matter, it's not like I was going to win the games anyway.

He decided he didn't care what they would do to him, he was only concerned for his mother and Eri, hoping his stupid decision wouldn't get them killed. 

I should have stayed and apologized, maybe then they would have had some leniency. But no, I just had to lose it over a dead pig and leave in the most disrespectful way possible.

Katsuki was knocking at his door, (M/N) told him to go away multiple times before he finally left. Leaving (M/N) to lie on his bed, watching the sun set over the Capitol. At first, he expected guards to come for him. But as time passed, it seemed less likely. They still needed a tribute from District 12, didn't they? If the Gamemakers wanted to punish him they'd just do it publicly when he was in the arena. Set some starving wild animals on him, they would make sure he didn't have a bow to defend himself either. But before that, they would give him a score so low that no one would sponsor him.

That's what would happen tonight. Since the training isn't open to viewers, the Gamemakers announce a score for each tribute, giving the audience a starting place for betting that continues throughout the games. The number was between one and twelve, one being horribly bad and twelve being impossibly high. The number signified the potential of a tribute, but obviously it didn't guarantee who won. Often, due to certain variables in the arena, high score tributes could be killed quite fast. But the number would still hurt or help an individual when it comes to sponsors. (M/N) was hoping his skills would at least gain him a six, maybe a seven. But now he was sure he'd get the lowest score out of the twenty-four.

After another hour or so, Emi knocked on his door to call him down for dinner. He decided he may as well go. The scores were being televised tonight and it wasn't like he could hide his failure forever. He washed his face in an attempt to hide the fact he was crying and descended the stairs.

Everyone was waiting for him at the table, including Keigo and Rumi, which just made him feel worse. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of disappointing them. As if he'd thrown away all the good work they put into the opening ceremony without a thought. (M/N) avoided making eye contact with anyone as he sat down and grabbed his portion of food.

The adults began a conversation about irrelevant things (M/N) couldn't care less about. Looking up, his eyes met Katsuki's. He raised his eyebrows which (M/N) translated to 'What happened?' He just shook his head and looked down at his food.

After a few minutes, Shota finally spoke up. "Ok, enough with the small talk, how bad were you today?"

Before (M/N) could respond, Katsuki jumped in. "I don't think it matters, by the time I got there, they weren't even bothered to look at me. They were singing some random crap and drinking, so I threw some heavy objects around until they told me I could leave."