Chapter Text
Fang Runin felt home in the woods. Surrounded by the trees and silence, where her thoughts and fire could not be punished, where she was free.
Freedom was not a guarantee in this screwed up world, but there was something that she was pretty certain of, that today would be the start of her most likely death. It was her 18th year on this world, 6th year with more slips in that bowl than she would like to count, not to mention the tesserae she has been getting since she had turned 12 when Auntie Fang had sent her straight down to the main hall to sign up for it. Though without it or not she knew would eventually be reaped, so at least through this she was providing Kesegi, and he was the only person left that she cared about so why not?
But it wasn’t just her bad odds that painted the target on her back, it was her cousin, it was her fire. Altan Trengisn. The second ever District 12 winner, the youngest victor ever, and the first ever Speerly at that too. He was a triple threat to the Capital. He had a weakness like the rest of her people, opium and fire, a deadly duo. Though she never bought in the "official reports,” that he had "accidentally” burnt down his house in victors village when smoking, fire was just as much a part of him as blood, and so was the opium, he wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. Especially not even a full year after his games. But it's not like she had much time to think about it when it happened, she had been shown the burnt home, thankfully she had been spared from seeing the body, already orphaned, she was immediately taken to the Fangs.
The Fangs weren’t much, they had changed her name, “easier to pronounce,” Auntie muttered while signing the forms, they never ratted on her for her illegal hunting, which kept them fed, and she never ratted on them for their opium operation, though it brought back unpleasant memories. This all happened when she was five, and since then all she had let it do was to let it haunt her mind like some ghost that wouldn’t leave her alone, but she had since learned to push it back. With losing Altan, she had lost any sense of comfort her life might have had. Living with the Fangs meant nothing but survival, hunting, Tesserae, and opium smuggling which she tried to keep for a minimum, even if it meant beatings from Auntie Fang, at least it beat a whipping in the public square.
Another thing she had lost in that fire, was the Speerly in her heart, at least most of it. It’s not like at five she had any real experience with the culture anyway, especially with the Capital practically wiping out all of their presence in Panem, but Altan had tried to help her maintain some of it. She still didn’t have much though. None of her mother’s dresses or jewelry, no Speerly weapons, which apparently they had a large number of before the first uprising that left them with the Hunger Games, all she had was an affinity for fire, a few songs memorized, and a deadly fear of addiction to opium.
All thinking and lingering on her predestined fate did no good, when there was still dinner to catch. Lucky for her though, a nice sized rabbit had walked right into her line of sight, and with one single shot right through the eye, she had found said dinner for tonight. At least she didn’t need to desensitize herself to blood, if she was going into that arena, might as well start thinking of her advantages now.
-
She returned back to the Fang’s wooden shack in the seam a couple hours later, throwing the fat rabbit onto the rickety old table, trying to ignore the smell of opium coming from the master bedroom. She hoped Uncle Fang would sober up by the time of the Reaping, they don’t want another incident like a couple years ago where he didn’t show and the whole family was punished, she remembered her shoulder hurting for weeks afterwards. The Mugenese peacekeepers employed by the president were already rough to District 12, she was just a bigger target because of the whole Speerly thing. Gods she hated this place.
“You’re late.” Auntie Fang spoke with a slightly annoyed tone, but Rin knew she didn’t care that much.
“I brought your dinner.” Was all Rin responded with, pointing to the rabbit on the table, staring down Auntie as she fixed her hair up into a bun, everyone who went to the Reaping was expected to look their best, a display for the Capital. All Auntie Fang did was roll her eyes and let out a small huff under her breath. Damn bitch. The arena might be more welcoming than this home.
Her hateful thoughts are interrupted when Kesegi comes running down the stairs, immediately burying his body into her legs. He was already dressed in his newish clothes for the event. His first Reaping and her last, and not even that, most likely her last day in District 12. It’s not like she ever identified with it, but she was the only one providing for this little boy, she didn’t want to stop. She runs her fingers through his hair, she couldn’t bring herself to reassure him with false words.
“I’m scared.” Her too, Kesegi. Her too.
She has to peel him off of her, placing him in front of Auntie Fang to get his hair done and such, while she took a bath and got ready herself. She bathes relativity quickly, and it doesn’t take her long to pick an outfit, she only had one. A dark red dress, with brown ribbons sewn in around the edges of it, meant to mimic the old Speerly dresses she remembered her mother wearing in those incredibly hazy memories of her. This dress, these colors only set her further apart from the Fangs, District 12, but it barely brought her any closer to being Speerly. She has vague memories of the stories Altan would tell her. A time over seventy-four years ago, when they weren’t this pathetic, when they would set massive trees on fire, and sing and dance around them. But then the first uprising came, and they were forced to choose, settle for District 12 or be shot, many chose the ladder, until they dangled the opium in front of them, which ended up taking just as many lives.
She finds herself once again pulled out of her thoughts by Auntie Fang's shrill yelling and soon she is rushing out the door with Kesegi hand in hers, while the Auntie stays behind trying to get her doped up husband moving.
-
The walk is slightly rushed as she explains the whole process to Kesgei, including punishment that comes with being late. He doesn’t flinch when they prick his finger though for the identification, neither does she, this is far from the worst of pain when both of them have been at at the mercy of Auntie Fang’s hand, and it’s not like any authority in the District took child abuse seriously.
He hugs her one last time, before he has to go and find himself in the crowd of 12 year old boys, he blends in quite easily especially with the dark skin boys of the seam, while she could be seen from space. Her dark red dress that stands out among the crowd of grays and whites, not to mention every 18 year old that would be standing next to her finds themselves purposely stepping back, but she wasn’t offended she was used to it, even if her hurt a bit watching Kesgei’s friends come to up around in support.
It’s the regular show. The mayor comes out and makes his incredibly long winded sleep that Rin feels puts her to sleep each time, but unlike some kids she kept herself awake before she fell down on the hard dusty ground. Usually after that any victors from the district would come out and make a speech but their only remaining victor was Jiang Ziya, who was either high as hell on opium or would just straight up make a foul himself, including once making farting noises with his armpit, which in turn that combined with the drugs he technically wasn’t supposed to have got him banned from the ceremony.
Finally the whole thing ended with their district escort coming out, and actually reaping them. Their escort was an older woman who went by the name of Petra had to be doing this for at least 50 years, and her disgust with District 12 was very clear to Rin at least, but many were fouled by her sickly sweet and slow tone, though she only adopted that tone because she clearly saw District 12 as too stupid to understand any else.
“I’m sure we're all excited to be here, for some one of the most important days of their lives.” She spoke slowly, calm, with that fake sweetness lacing her voice as she walked over to the girls bowl looking at them as if they were all ants under her control, which really they were.
“As always ladies first.” She places her hand in the bowl, hovering just above the small slips of paper before diving her hand in and plucking one piece out, and the name she reads out surprises no one. “Fang Runin.”
-
Before she can even make her way up to the platform in front of the justice building, something cries and runs into hair, and it’s Kesgei. Little, innocent Kesgei hugging onto her legs like he always did when scared. Quickly enough though to her relief, an older seam boy comes and scoops him off of her, lifts him up and carries him off crying for her, no doubt to place him with the Fangs, but she knows she is the only one who gives him comfort in situations like this.
She makes her way to the platform, and her steps are more confident then she would have thought, but guess knowing this before, officially or not, prepared her. The moment she arrives up there, Petra is shoving the microphone in her face, and she wants to shove down the old woman's throat.
“So tell us who that was?” She asks in that same sickly sweet voice with that same fake soft smile.
“My foster brother.” Rin replies in the most monotone voice she could manage, which probably annoys Petra a bit as she is here to make this a show, but Rin refuses to give them that.
“Ahh foster brother, because if I stand corrected you're not just any District 12 seam girl, the late Altan Trengsin was your cousin right?” She asks already knowing that she was correct, but with that same smirk and tilt of her she clearly wanted to get a rise out of Rin.
“Yes.” Rin manages a simple one worded answer through grunted teeth, really resisting the urge to act in a violent manner. Her plain answer once again annoys the old bat but she does hide it quite well, as she takes back the microphone and speaks in that voice she always had.
“We’ll just have to see if the Trengsin family can produce another victor.” She says into the microphone as she walks over to the boys bowl, and this is when Rin’s stomach drops, however small it may be, Kesgei can still be called, and if that happens, she might actually get violent.
“Ramsa Zhao!” She calls into the microphone, and seeing who the crowd parts for doesn’t make her feel much better, because it’s a boy a Kesgei age. He surprisingly makes his way up to the platform without a shake in his step and when Petra asks him all her stupid questions, he answers them without fail, but he keeps his voice in a similar monotone than Rin’s making her a bit proud of her district partner.
Before she can shake Ramsa’s hand, the coward goes completely silent, and in perfect coordination with each other, they kiss three of their fingers and raise them above their heads, not just the kids, many of the adults on the side too, their gazes all focused on her. It’s for Altan. District 12 may have never accepted the Speerlys, but they hated the capital more.
-
Before they leave the district, most likely forever, the two of them are ushered into the Justice Hall and separated, to have time to say goodbyes to their families.
Rin sits there, not for long but it feels like forever until Kesgei comes running through those big wooden doors and into her legs. Like always. She quickly gets down on his level, holding his jaw with her hand, she needs to set some rules.
“Listen to me. Your goat, sell the milk and cheese, do whatever innocent odd jobs come up, hell teach yourself if you have to.” She speaks sternly, willing herself not to cry, though it’s proving to be harder than she thought. He just nods his head, those new tears in his eyes not falling quite yet. Both of them knew what ‘teach yourself if you have to,’ it meant archery. Teach himself just like she had, with those wooden arrows and bow in the woods, just as she had shown him.
“You can win. You have to win.” He whispers to her, and once again she is fighting the urge to not to cry, he didn’t want to be left alone with the Fangs. She didn’t want him to be left alone with them either. That’s when she turned her attention to Auntie Fang.
“You can’t let him starve.” Rin speaks her voice filled with such hate, but it doesn’t really surprise her, the Fangs gave her nothing, she owed nothing in return.
“He’s my son, you can’t tell me what to do.” Auntie responded with a huff and a glare.
“I can and I will.” She retorts with the same vitriol.
“You better win this thing Runin.” Auntie Fang responds, and before Rin can respond and asks why. Why would she care? She is given her answer.
“Don’t think too highly of yourself, I just think you have forgotten the life of luxury you lived with that cousin before he burnt himself down. I want that.” She speaks, as if it is such an easy thing to both win the Hunger Games and remember your cousin who was killed.
Before Rin could respond with her own words, or throw the punch she desperately wanted to, Mugenese Peacekeepers burst into the room to drag her away from District 12, which has always felt more like just a living situation than a home. The last thing she sees is Kesgi’s hand reaching for her.
-
Yin Nezha was so relieved, he was finally 18, the last year he could be drawn for the Hunger Games, and the odds were in his favor, not had he only been trained for this should he be reaped, but it’s not likely considering there is always an over eager volunteer.
He is just finishing tying his tie when his father walks into his room, he quickly closes it before he speaks, but even before he does Nezha could feel his stomach drop.
“It’s time.” His father speaks with such a cold and apathetic voice as if he is speaking to a foot soldier and not his own son, well with what he is asking him to do, he might as well be.
“No!” Nezha shouts before he considers the repercussions.
“This is not up for debate, this is all you and your brother have been training for since you could hold a sword, I will not let your fear hold me back.” His father retorts, his voice less apathetic but this time more cold and frustrated.
His father grips his wrist, and quickly drags him out of his room and places him in front of the large TV. He grabs the remote and focuses in on the reaping for District 12, pausing it when they show the Speerly girl, and all those other dirty coal miners raising those fingers for her.
“She’s perfect.” His father says in an almost creepy tone, with a small smirk as he leans back on the couch. “She will be our Phoenix."
Nezha heavily disagreed all he saw was another poor district girl who now he would have to sacrifice his life for. All for this revolution his father had been planning since before he was born, the very thing him and his brother Jizha had been trained for since they could walk. Not the Hunger Games. This.
You better be worth all of this Fang Runin.