𝓐 𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓷 𝓔𝓷𝓭 | Katsuki Bakugou x Male Reader

Chapter 1

Book 3 babyyyy we're almost done.

This took a bit longer than usual but thats cos I wanted to release a few chapters to begin with, so enjoy :)

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(M/N) stared down at his shoes, watching as a fine layer of ash settled on the worn leather. This was where the bed he shared with his sister, Eri, stood. Over there was the kitchen table. The bricks of the chimney, which collapsed in a charred heap, provided a point of reference for the rest of the house. How else could he orient himself in this sea of grey?

Almost nothing remained of District 12. A month ago, the Capitol's firebombs obliterated the poor coal miners' houses in the Seam, the shops in the town, even the Justice Building. The only area that escaped incineration was the Victor's Village. (M/N) didn't know why exactly. Perhaps so anyone forced to come here on Capitol business would have somewhere reasonable to stay. The odd reporter. A committee assessing the condition of the coal mines. A squad of Peacekeepers checking for returning refugees.

But no one was returning except (M/N). And that was only for a brief visit. The authorities in District 13 were against him going back. They viewed it as a costly and pointless venture, given that at least a dozen invisible hovercrafts were circling overhead for his protection and there was no intelligence to be gained. He had to see it, though. So much so that he made it a condition of his cooperation with any of their plans.

Finally, Kan Sekijiro, the Head Gamemaker who had organised the rebels in the Capitol, threw up his hands. "Let him go. Better to waste a day than another month. Maybe a little tour to Twelve is just what he needs to convince him we're on the same side."

The same side. A pain stabbed (M/N)'s left temple and he pressed his hand against it. Right on the spot where Neito Monoma hit him with the coil of wire. The memories swirled when he tried to sort out what was true and what was false. What series of events led him to be standing in the ruins of his city? This was hard because the effects of the concussion hadn't completely subsided and his thoughts still had a tendency to jumble together. Also, the drugs they used to control his pain and mood sometimes made him see things. He guessed. He still wasn't entirely convinced that he was hallucinating the night the floor of his hospital room transformed into a carpet of writhing snakes.

(M/N) used a technique one of the doctors suggested. He started with the simplest things he knew to be true and worked towards the more complicated. The list began to roll in his head.

My name is (M/N) (L/N). I am eighteen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Katsuki was taken prisoner. He is thought to be dead. Most likely he is dead. It is probably best if he is dead...

"(M/N). Should I come down?" The sound of his best friend Shoto's voice reached him through the headset the rebels insisted he wear. Shoto was up in a hovercraft, watching him carefully, ready to swoop in if anything went amiss. (M/N) realised he was crouched down now, elbows on his thighs, his head braced between his hands. He must have looked on the verge of some kind of breakdown. That wouldn't do. Not when they were finally weaning him off the medication.

(M/N) straightened up and waved Shoto's offer away. "No. I'm fine." To reinforce this, (M/N) began to move away from his old house and towards the town. Shoto asked to be dropped off in 12 as well, but he didn't force the issue when (M/N) refused his company. Shoto understood (M/N) didn't want anyone with him today. Not even his best friend. Some walks you had to take alone.

The summer had been scorching hot and dry as a bone. There had been next to no rain to disturb the piles of ash left by the attack. They shifted here and there, in reaction to (M/N)'s footsteps. No breeze to scatter them. He kept his eyes on what he remembered as the road, because when he first landed in the Meadow, he wasn't careful and walked right into a rock. Only it wasn't a rock - it was someone's skull. It rolled over and over and landed face up, and for a long time (M/N) couldn't stop looking at the teeth, wondering whose they were thinking of how his would probably look the same way under similar circumstances.