Chapter Text
Daji quickly leaves the room after her thinly veiled threats, while Rin sat there in that overly plushed, and overly ornate chair, her hand over her chest, as she desperately grabbed at one pack of her opium in her pocket, needing anything to calm the racing of her heart. She couldn’t help but let her eyes wander back to the screen, showing herself sleeping in that poppy field, that and her house in the Seam were her last reprieves and in just one sentence the President took that from her.
Rin liked to think she was always slightly luckier than Altan, and in this moment she was. If it weren’t Nezha she wouldn’t be sitting here figuring out how to live, she would be figuring out how to die. She just had to learn how to be as good of an actor as he was.
Upon exiting the room, Rin is greeted with the Auntie Fang she is familiar with, as she grips Rin’s arm, pushing her against the wall.
“What the hell was that? What was the President doing in our home?” Auntie Fang yells in her face, and if the opium wasn’t slowing down her body right now she would have fought back.
“You know, Victor's lives are so broadcasted, the President just came to wish me luck with the tour in private.” The lie falls from Rin’s lips easier than she expected, but with her life (and others) on the line she can’t afford to be a bad liar right now.
“I don’t know what kind of shit you got me into Runin.” Auntie Fang spits out walking away from her, as Rin slides down against the wall to sit on the floor as Kesegi comes to sit beside her.
When Rin returned to District 12 after the games, and was ordered to move to the Victors Village, despite how many haunting memories the place held for her. She had originally planned to take only Kesegi with her, she didn’t need to give the Fangs anything good, but Auntie Fang had threatened to keep him with her if she didn’t take them as well, she also threatened to make him start getting Tessare, which was something Rin couldn’t allow. So now all that she had earned was tainted. She seemed to have that effect on things.
She knew it would be the right thing, and most likely help to tell Jiang, and Nezha as well, but she wasn’t always too keen on the right thing. Having other players in this would just complicate the matter, this conversation would stay between her and Daji for now.
It wasn’t practically hard to keep her mouth shut when she was surrounded by the biggest band of idiots to ever grace Panem. Her Capital styling team, with Petra, because she was still her district escort, luckily since she had won the games, the older woman has made no moves to grow closer with her, Rin could learn to be a good actress, but not that good. Rin knew that the styling time was just idiots because they had been pampered their whole life in the Capital, it didn’t stop her from wanting to punch them.
The moment they walked through the door, the criticisms started, about how she hadn’t been keeping up her appearance, about how she was so lucky to have them. About how the bags under her eyes were too dark, about how they could get lighting creams for her skin, about how she should grow out her hair, about how she should do something for her womanly figure. Apparently the Capital had already tried, when she was in that coma all the way back at the end of the games, they were going to give her breast implants, also apparently Jiang somehow fought hard enough to get her out of it. Rin never had time to think about how she looked, the only time she did was back on Reaping day, and even then it was because it was forced upon her. The Capital has still never returned her Reaping day dress, one last piece of Speerly culture.
“I’ve assumed you’ve heard about Irjah?” Petra spoke simply, turning to face Rin, and she felt her stomach drop.
“What’s happened to Irjah?” Gods, what if Daji had already gone after people that Rin cared about, what if she didn’t offer the benefit of the doubt?
“Oh he’s the biggest name in the Capital now.” Petra responded, her laugh slightly mocking as if picking up on her worry. “And you’re his muse, surprisingly.” The last part was muttered under her breath, but Rin still caught onto it.
Speaking of the devil Irjah, the man in all his simple glory walks through into the room, and Rin immediately pushes past Petra, not caring about how rude and improper it is as her body connects with Irjah. She was often not one for physical affection, but the combination of opium and crippling fear has made her a bit weak at this moment.
“Ready to work?” He asks, and she knows he can sense something is wrong. He was an intelligent man, so he was also intelligent enough to not ask her about what is troubling.
Victors, to make them more relatable, have to have some sort of hobby, as if fighting to the death is not entertaining enough. She decided on a fake one, fashion design, which really just meant taking Irjah’s designs as her own. It was stupid really, she had already brought them entertainment through death, and was about to go on a two week long publicity tour, but Gods forbid she doesn’t have a hobby.
Nezha still suggested making a career out of her voice, and she still continued to laugh it off. Even joking that if they ever found her singing in front of a Capital, that she would have been killed and replaced with a double. Besides it’s not like the Capital crowd would enjoy her songs, old Speerly songs, all of those with decades meanings, while what it seemed most Capital music was about superficial things, which didn’t really shock her, they got entertainment out of death.
But then again, did Rin really have any room to judge? Now she never watched the games for fun like those in the Capital or weather districts, but she never got a particular disgust out of them like most did in 12. If anything she was indifferent, the only one that ever shook her was Altan’s games, and even then that was because she loved him. If it had some other random boy in the 69th games would she really have cared, or would she look at them with the same indifference that she had? It didn’t matter if Rin had room to judge or not, she would, she still liked to think she was better than them.
Eventually it came time to actually prepare her for her first appearance in front of the cameras in seven months, and like these usual Capital pampering lessons, it doesn’t go well. It involves trimming her hair, putting on a ridiculous amount of makeup, and at once trying to stuff her bra, which when one of the Capital attendants tried she nipped at his fingers, earning a yelp as he went to hide behind another worker, who also seemed quite disturbed, which elected a laugh from her.
“Don’t mind her, she is still learning how to be civilized, sometimes, these things take time.” Petra muttered to them, which just made Rin huff again. If their version of civilized was to act like them then she’ll start shitting in the woods just to get as far from it.
The outfit they dress her in is simple enough, a long black jacket, with a fur collar, and a simple buttoned up white shirt under, and they even let her keep her jeans which was quite an improvement. Rin couldn’t help but run her fingers over the fur collar, she had never worn fur before. Anytime she caught an animal with enough fur to make anything out of it, it always went to Auntie Fang. She remembered how one winter her hands would bleed everyday because of how dried and cracked they were, while Auntie Fang sat there wearing gloves made of the fur of a rabbit she caught.
“Stop, stop, we only have so much time.” Petra muttered, before pushing Rin closer to the door. Sometimes it was hard to decide if she was purposely trying to be mean, or if she really had just swallowed so much Capital propaganda that she was just like that.
When Rin is finally pushed out the door, she is expecting a full camera crew full of people, but instead it’s just a large camera set up on a moving platform that can follow her around. That’s almost creepier.
“There she is, our Girl on Fire! Fang Runin!” Feylen's voice, which was still on his same brand of calm but entertaining rang through the camera, and Rin stood corrected, that was certainly the creepiest part.
“And there he is, the boy with the Dragon, Yin Nezha!” The way Nezha could immediately command a crowd, even if it doesn’t exist at the moment, is quite impressive, he smiles and waves, while she just stands there trying to act like a human being.
They meet each other half way between the houses with the most awkward hug Rin had ever participated in, she was actually thankful that the ice took them both down. Hoping that if she hit her head hard enough on the ground she would knock herself out, sadly she is not that lucky. Now she lays atop Nezha, as he broke and caught fall, annoyingly so.
She kissed him, first a quick peck on the lips, which he made deeper, leading his hand up to her hair. It was incredible, she had broken his heart and yet he somehow managed to continue acting so in love with her.
“Woah, woah, did we interpret something here?” Feylen’s voice once again breaks through the camera, and it takes everything in Rin to keep forcing that fake smile, even as Nezha reminds her to keep it up, his hand digging a bit more into her waist. “So tell us how our wonderful victors have been?”
“We’re good.” Nezha answers, and Rin continues to smile so widely that her cheeks hurt, yet somehow she keeps it up. Maybe it’s because Nezha is keeping it up to not reveal her secret.
“‘We’re good that’s all we get? Why so shy now Nezha?” Feylen goads, and Rin can tell that now even Nezha is holding back his own sneer.
“Well, Rin and I have certainly never been closer.” He laughs, though probably even to the Capital it seems fake, his arms and hands still gripping as tight as possible to Rin.
“Thanks to the generosity of the Capital!” Rin throws in her voice overly high, trying to act like how normal happy people would, but she felt like she was far from either.
“Well we can all agree with that!” He shouted again, which was still so odd that Rin could hear his voice so clearly despite the fact that what only surrounded her and Nezha was a camera machine. “While we all wish we could stay and talk longer, but I think our darling victors need to get ready for their victory tour! Which we will keep constant updates with!” Feylen’s voice echos through the machine, and Rin really hopes her full body cringe isn’t visible to the whole country.
They cut the cameras off, and both Rin and Nezha immediately step away from each other, letting out their own loud sighs of relief, hearing their capital prep teams shuffle behind them.
“Good job, I almost thought that kiss was real.” Nezha’s voice is a rough whisper, as he pushes past her, bumping his shoulder with hers.
“Ass.” She mutters in return, incredibly tempted to pick up some of the snow on the ground and throw it at his back. Yet for once in her life she restrains herself.
Packing for the victory tour wasn’t hard. Not when all her clothing, meals, and bedding would be provided for her. So all she decided on was the bags of opium she picked up earlier, and her pipe. Yes the Capital may have frowned upon the habit, and sure Daji probably wanted her presentable for the tour, but she made no distinct threat against it when they had their conversation, also Jiang had been doing it for 18 years now. So she assumes it would be fine.
Which is why she also takes her chance of heading to the only home she had left that she loved, the old Trengsin family home in the Seam. The same one that Daji had apparently had cameras in, which is only a slightly nauseating thought, not enough to stop Rin from heading back there.
She forces open the old wooden door, the whole house bathed in the setting sun, which reminded her of the very fuzzy but warm memories she had of this place. Her mother singing to her. Altan and her sharing a bed despite the fact that they had two, despite the summer heat. Yet many physical reminders of those memories have been ripped away from her. When Altan came home after winning his games, they quickly moved into their house in the Victors Village, and he took many of their personal belongings with them. Pictures, instruments, old Speerly jewelry and outfits, at least what was remaining from what her mother and Altan didn’t sell when food got too tight.
All that was taken in the same fire that was took Altan from her though. In that one day Daji had truly taken everything from her. Despite how that though the house still brought a form of nostalgia to her that was hard to describe. So she walked around slowly on the floor made of peeling wood broads, hoping that they wouldn’t break and she would find herself in an embarrassing predicament.
Except one did break right under her, but instead of finding that her ankle had been broken by landing against the solid dirt, there’s a small hole. And then in that small hole, there was a box. A wooden wood, that looked like both mold had grown and that it had been overtaken by roots, still Rin reached down and picked it up, especially seeing a small flame engraved on the top of it.
Inside is many things, and seeing all of them makes her want to vomit. It was filled with old black and white photos that had been long worn inside the box, but she knew what they were from an instant. She would recognize her mother and Altan anywhere. There were images of just her mother holding an infant Rin, of her mother and Altan, then some of Altan’s parents, who died long before the girl who ran her fingers along the pictures was born. Rin had long thought these photos were destroyed in that fire. She had also long thought that some of the jewelry that sat at the bottom of said box was sold off, but there it glistened.
The only explanation for any of this that floated in Rin’s head was that Altan knew of the fate in store for him, and both reprinted the pictures and rebought the jewelry, burying it for this moment. Which means that he did this long before Daji had installed the cameras, that didn’t mean she couldn’t see Rin going through the box now. She just prayed that the president took mercy on her for this.
She hears a creak in the wood at the doorway, which immediately snaps her attention and there stands Jiang.
“Ahh! What the fuck!” Rin shouts, roughly wiping the tears off her cheeks, the man stands there calmly, which irritates her further.
“I came to find you before the peacekeepers.” He replies calmly walking over to the girl, who quickly stands up, ignoring the dizziness that comes from it.
“Well I’m here, and I’ll meet you at the train in a couple minutes.” She speaks briskly, which gets a roll of the eyes from the older man.
“I’m being serious Mai’rinnen. You can’t keep disobeying and hoping to avoid her wrath till you can’t.” Jiang speaks, his voice still calm but softened walking over to her as she looked away, his hand gently pressed against her cheek.
Rin pulls away from him. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want Nezha protecting her secret of not having any feelings towards him. She just wanted this stupid victory tour to be over, and then to come back here to District 12 and smoke herself into oblivion.
“I think this for you.” Her voice breaks over the small silence that had fallen over them, but she doesn’t turn her body back to him, even as she shoves the pictures of her mother holding an infant her, with a letter on the back starting “Dear Ziya…”
Nezha knew the line he was talking with his father on was a secure one, his father had multiple men in the Capitol just for that extant reason, still with the heavy military presence in 12, Nezha had to be careful with words.
“Just try to keep her mouth shut for now. I’m afraid Daji is already riding her ass.” His father’s voice broke through the phone while Nezha clutched his jaw figuring out a way to respond that wouldn’t be considered rude.
“If you actually knew the woman you would understand that’s quite difficult.” He decided on using those words to reply to the man on the other side, but based on the rough huff he heard, Nezha figured that he failed on the whole don't be “rude” thing.
“This is not a joking matter, that you are treating it like son. You understand she’s important and you two can’t even touch each other without looking sick. So I would like for you to do what I asked of you.” His father spoke, voice firm and callous, as how the son had remembered it since childhood.
“Of course, I wouldn’t wish to disappoint you father.” Nezha replied, keeping his voice, hoping that the words didn’t sound too suspicious to the Mugenese peacekeepers standing near him. Yet knowing the Yin family reputation they probably didn’t.
His father hung up first, which Nezha was thankful for that let him slam the phone down without getting an earful about how disrespectful or rude it was. Besides Rin and Jiang were now finally approaching the train platform, the mentors hand on the girl’s shoulders, looking as if he was leading her. Had she been crying? He slowly approached the District 12 pair, now standing in front of the girl who was supposed to be his lover.
“Are you okay?” Nezha asked, trying to emulate the softness the two had for each other in the arena. Because she most certainly had been crying, the red on her brown cheeks didn’t lie.
“Fuck off.” Rin’s voice was a whispered sneer as she walked past him on the train, Jiang shortly followed after her.
This was going to be a very long two weeks, Nezha concluded walking up on to the train himself, the smooth automatic doors closing behind him.