Chapter 12

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So like would anyone give a shit if i made a hawks fanfic? I'm probably gonna make one anyway cos I feel inspired

Anyways, enjoy.

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Staying quietly in bed was harder after that. (M/N) wanted to be doing something, finding out more about District 13 or helping in the cause to bring down the Capitol. Instead he sat around stuffing himself with cheese buns and watching Katsuki sketch. Shota stopped by occasionally to bring (M/N) news from town, which was always bad. More people were being punished or dropping from starvation.

Winter had begun to withdraw by the time (M/N)'s foot was deemed usable. His mother gave him exercises to do and let him walk on his own a bit. He went to sleep one night, determined to go into town the next morning, but he awoke to find his stylist group grinning down at him.

"Surprise!" they squealed. "We're here early!"

After (M/N) took that lash in the face, Shota got their visit pushed back several months so he could heal up. He wasn't expecting them for another three weeks. But he tried to act delighted that his wedding photo shoot was here at last. His mother hung up all the outfits, so they were ready to go, but (M/N) had yet to even try one on.

After the usual honorifics about the deteriorated state of (M/N)'s look, they got right down to business. Their biggest concern was his face, although (M/N) thought his mother did a pretty remarkable job healing it. There was just a pale pink strip across his cheekbone. The whipping wasn't common knowledge, so he told them he slipped on the ice and cut it. And then he realised that was his same excuse for his foot. But his stylists weren't the suspicious types, so he was safe there.

They went through the usual routine, washing (M/N) down before prepping him. They were on his hair and make-up before he knew it. The team, as usual, was full of news, which (M/N) usually did his best to tune out. But then one of them made a comment that caught (M/N)'s attention. It was a passing remark, really, about how she couldn't get prawns for a party, but it tugged at him.

"Why couldn't you get prawns? Are they out of season?" (M/N) asked.

"Oh, (M/N), we haven't been able to get any seafood for weeks!" she said. "You know, because the weather's been so bad in District Four."

(M/N)'s mind started buzzing. No seafood. For weeks. From District 4. The barely concealed rage in the crowd during the Victory Tour. And suddenly he was absolutely sure that District 4 had revolted.

(M/N) began to question them casually about what other hardships this winter had brought them. They were not used to wanting, so any little disruption in the supply made an impact on them. By the time (M/N) was ready to be dressed, their complaints about the difficulty of getting different products - from crabmeat to music chips to ribbons - had given (M/N) a sense of which districts might actually be rebelling. Seafood from District 4. Electronics from District 3. And, of course, fabrics from District 8. The thought of such widespread rebellion had (M/N) quivering with fear and excitement.

He wanted to ask them more, but Keigo showed up to give him a hug and check his make-up. His attention went to the scar on (M/N)'s cheek. Somehow (M/N) didn't think he believed the tripping-on-ice story, but he didn't question it. He simply adjusted the powder on (M/N)'s face, and what little was visible of the mark vanished.

Downstairs, the living room had been cleared and lit for the photo shoot. Emi was having a fine time ordering everybody around, keeping them all on schedule. It was probably a good thing, because there were six outfits and each one had its own little intricacies. The moment one shot was approved, they moved right into preparing for the next.

𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓖𝓸𝓮𝓼 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male readerWhere stories live. Discover now