Chapter Text
He had gotten comfortable in his bubble during his recovery. He was used to the alternation of excruciating physical pain and crushing guilt followed by brief moments of relief when talking to Sawamura, fooling himself into thinking this could last forever.
The two of them converse about anything and everything. His favourite was listening to Sawamura talk about his life in District One, his pastimes and passions and, whenever he was willing, his family and friends. He quickly found out that he is unfamiliar with many things that Sawamura views as ordinary.
They’re on Koushi’s bed, Sawamura sitting cross-legged at the very edge while Koushi is sat up, trying to catch a break from the constant pulsing pain in his ribs, when he receives another shocking piece of information.
“So”, he tries to summarise, “there’s this show on TV, where single people hang out on an island, isolated from the rest of the world, and search for love while trying to avoid being voted off? That sounds…” he tries to find the least offensive adjective but Sawamura beats him to it;
“Yeah, it’s trash but that’s why everyone loves it so much.”
“And there’s cameras while they’re kissing and…”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s kind of creepy if you think about it.”
This truly shocks Koushi. The most he has seen two actors do on TV is a chaste kiss on the cheek.
Sawamura always seems to have never-ending patience with him, explaining every detail without ever passing judgement regarding his ignorance.
“I’m surprised it’s not broadcast at Eleven, it’s been super successful everywhere else” the raven-haired boy says, followed by a scoff from Koushi.
“There’s no way the Church would ever allow that being shown on TV.”
The Church had a strong grip on the people of District Eleven , heavily censoring whatever they deemed as immoral.
He could practically hear the wheels turning in Sawamura’s head.
“So, they control the media?”, he asks hesitantly.
Images flash in Koushi’s head; morning prayers with his family, Sunday school, Church picnics and movie nights.
Hateful sermons, endless guilt, tearful prayers.
“The Capitol lets them control pretty much everything.”
They even convince people to rat each other out to the government if they are not following the Commandments.
His face hardens involuntarily.
After a pregnant pause, he hears:
“Do you believe in God?” Sawamura’s eyes lock with his full of curiosity .
He was not expecting that.
“Yeah…I think I do.” Koushi looks down at his fidgeting hands.
“But I don’t think it’s working” he almost whispers.
That kind of statement can get him in a lot of trouble back at home.
But he isn’t home anymore.
It’s apparent to Koushi that Sawamura, while trying to come up with something supportive to say, is left in the dark.
“What do you mean it’s not working?”
He can feel tears stinging his eyes but goes on anyway.
“I think that…me being chosen for the Games…it’s my punishment.” Koushi senses his ribcage constricting dangerously.
This makes Sawamura crawl closer to him, desperately searching for some inkling of why he feels that way. His hand is on his knee.
“Punishment for what?”
For liking boys.
For not following every rule.
For not working hard enough.
For being hungry and eating his father’s food while he starved.
For abandoning his family.
For not pulling his weight for their team.
For being selfish.
For being weak.
“For being…who I am,” Koushi weeps, hands covering his face. He desperately tries to breathe, each attempt a stab at his core.
“I’m sorry” is the only thing he can manage between sobs.
He is so tired. And worse yet, he is sure that Sawamura is exhausted by his behaviour.
So it catches him by surprise to hear his steady voice snapping him out of it.
“I think you’re very brave. And smart and strong and hard-working and proud of where you come from. I also think that you shouldn’t let other people decide whether God loves you or not. Because what’s not to love?”
Koushi faces him, seeking signs in his facial expression of whether his words are genuine or not.
He is met with two hazel orbs staring back at him, with a sureness he has never seen before in his life.
He can’t help but also notice the crimson colour of Sawamura’s cheeks, which triggers a burning sensation on his own face as well.
*
On the tenth day, he decides to make an appearance. He can finally stand and walk without constantly leaning on every surface for support and, after a talk with Ukai, who advised him to “show everyone he is not dead yet already”, he makes his way downstairs after breakfast with Sawamura.
He catches a glimpse of his unruly hair on the elevator ride.
“I’m so nervous.”
Koushi blurts it out before he can think otherwise.
“I’m nervous every day when I come down for practice” Sawamura follows up after a pause, both of them continuing to look straight ahead.
“You never seem nervous.”
“Neither do you. You always look like you want to punch someone.”
That elicits a laugh from Koushi, and then a groan, immediately hurting his ribs.
“Be honest, you did that on purpose.”
“I’ve always had an amazing sense of humour, it just took you a long time to get used to it” Sawamura retorts, with a charming smile, Koushi supposes, but doesn’t dare to turn his head in fear of blushing.
“It’s going to be fine, we have survival lessons for today. No running.”
“No running.” Koushi repeats in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
The rest of the ride is silent, aside from the frantic beating of Koushi’s heart at the feeling of Sawamura’s hand brushing tentatively against his.
When they slowly connect their hands, he is sure this is the best day he has had in this hellscape.
He tries to stay with this warm feeling as guilt creeps in his mind.
When they enter the training room all eyes fall on Koushi. He couldn’t understand whether they were disappointed he hadn’t died or just plain indifferent. Walking towards the seats as steadily as he can manage, he sees Kyoko, the girl chosen from his district. He feels her gaze follow him as he sits down.
He clearly hears Oikawa and his posse feigning shock when they see him.
He would love to hold Sawamura’s hand right now, even though he knows they wisely unlinked their hands when they exited the elevator.
The whispers quickly die down as their instructor enters.
The day goes on without any excitement, Koushi being more and more consumed by the aching in his ribs as the afternoon rolls in.
He powered through the day, exhaling deeply once the tributes are told they are dismissed.
“Oh and one more thing before you go!” the instructor yells as everyone is collectively getting up.
“In five days from now the Hunger Games Gala will take place. You will receive more information about the event from your Escorts.”
Koushi’s heart sinks.
He was so engrossed with his survival in the Games, he forgot the required theatrics of the process.
The Gala is a black tie event hosted by the President of Panem and attended by the capitolean elite. And the tributes.
It’s held inside the President’s estate and live broadcasted, the first opportunity for one to present oneself to the public and win over sponsors. Reporters swarm the place to interview Panem’s chosen children.
Dread washes over Koushi and he shares a knowing look with Sawamura.
We have to give them a show.
They are shuffling towards the exit as a hand falls heavy on his shoulder and he stifles a groan.
“Hey, Sugawara- san ” his saccharine voice almost throws Koushi off balance.
Oikawa has the same plastered smile as the last time he saw him. When he beat the shit out of him.
“Hey, Oikawa.”
“So glad to see you are feeling much better since I last saw you.”
Koushi refuses to break eye contact.
“Thanks so much, really.”
“It’s a bit sad though. If you had allied with me and Kyoko-chan, all of this” he gestures towards Koushi’s ribs “would’ve never happened.”
Koushi’s blood is boiling, considering he can do absolutely nothing other than stand and take it. It seems like a recurring pattern when dealing with Oikawa.
And the Games in general, he thinks.
Turn the other cheek, they always told him.
Oikawa must be talking still when he decides to leave, Sawamura following him suit, visibly tense.
“Hello? I’m talking to you~” Oikawa singsongs. “Get back!”
His voice remains playful, but beneath anger is boiling and Koushi can feel it.
“What are you going to do? Beat me up?” he yells, without turning around.
The crowd of tributes subtly eavesdropping on their conversation erupts in a series of “oohs” and Koushi knows this is going to come back to bite him.
But he’s sick of turning the other cheek.