𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓖𝓸𝓮𝓼 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male reader

Chapter 19

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"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" The announcer hammered (M/N)'s ears. He had less than a minute to get his bearings. Then the gong would sound and the tributes would be free to move off their metal plates. But move where?

(M/N) couldn't think straight. The image of Keigo, beaten and bloody, consumed him. Where was he now? What were they doing to him? Torturing him? Killing him? Turning him into an Avox? Obviously his assault was staged to unhinge (M/N). And it had unhinged him. All he wanted to do was collapse on his metal plate. But he could hardly do that after what he just witnessed. He had to be strong. He owed it to Keigo, who risked everything by undermining President Nezu and turning (M/N)'s wedding silk into mockingjay plumage. And he owed it to the rebels who, emboldened by Keigo's example, could be fighting to bring the Capitol down at that very moment. (M/N)'s refusal to play the Games by the Capitol's terms was to be his last act of rebellion. So he grit his teeth and willed himself to be a player.

Where are you? (M/N) could still make no sense of his surroundings. Where are you?! He demanded an answer from himself and slowly the world came into focus. Blue water. Pink sky. White-hot sun beating down. There was the Cornucopia, the shining silver metal horn, about forty metres away. At first, it appeared to be sitting on a circular island. But on closer examination, he could see thin strips of land radiating from the circle like the spokes on a wheel. (M/N) could see around ten or twelve, and they seemed equidistant from one another. Between the spokes, was water. Water and a pair of tributes.

That was it, then. There were twelve spokes, each with two tributes balanced on metal plates between them. The other tribute in (M/N)'s watery wedge was Chiezo from District 8. He was about as far to (M/N)'s right as the land strip on (M/N)'s left.

Beyond the water, wherever he looked, was a narrow beach and then dense greenery. (M/N) scanned the circle of tributes, looking for Katsuki, but he must have been blocked from (M/N)'s view by the Cornucopia.

(M/N) caught a handful of water as it washed in and smelled it. Then he touched the tip of his wet finger to his tongue. As he suspected, it was salt water. Just like the waves he and Katsuki encountered on their brief tour to the beach in District 4. But at least it seemed clean.

There were no boats, no ropes, not even a bit of driftwood to cling to. No, there was only one way to get to the Cornucopia. When the gong sounded, (M/N) didn't even hesitate before he dived to his left. It was a longer distance than he was used to, and navigating the waves took a little more effort than swimming across his quiet lake at home.

(M/N) pulled himself, dripping, onto the land strip and sprinted down the sandy stretch for the Cornucopia. He could see no one else converging from his side, although the silver horn blocked a good portion of his view. He didn't let the thought of adversaries slow him down, though. He was thinking like a Career now, and the first thing he wanted was to get his hands on a weapon.

Last year, the supplies were spread out quite a distance around the Cornucopia, with the most valuable closest to the horn. But this year, everything seemed to be piled at the seven-metre-high mouth. (M/N)'s eyes instantly honed in on a silver bow just in arm's reach and he yanked it free.

There was someone behind him. He was alerted by, he didn't know, maybe a soft shift of sand or maybe just the change in air currents. He pulled an arrow from the sheath that was still wedged in the pile and armed his bow as he turned.

Denki, glistening and gorgeous, stood a few metres away, with a trident poised to attack. A net dangled from his other hand. He was smiling a little, but the muscles in his upper body were rigid in anticipation. "You're a good swimmer, too," he said. "Where did you learn that in District Twelve?"