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The forest was unsettlingly quiet. Not a single chirp or whistle of wind. Alone amongst the branches of the great oak, Junmyeon felt completely alone.
He winced when the branches creaked ever so slightly. Soft footsteps padded across the forest floor. Whoever it was, was trying very hard to stay silent but their fear was palpable.
Junmyeon heard it in their rapid breathing, like a terrified rabbit. He held so still that he did not rustle a leaf as a figure emerged into view.
Streaks of red were still visible through mottled brown as if the hair had been hastily dyed over without much care. Red hair in this forest was like a fiery beacon.
There was only one tribute with hair that vibrant.
Park Chanyeol moved slowly across the forest floor, every step echoing in Junmyeon’s ears. To a hunter accustomed to silence, he might as well be crunching on leaves.
Junmyeon held his breath.
Chanyeol was a favourite, known for his looks and affinity for water. Hailing from District Four, his group of Careers was never far behind. So why was he alone now?
He reached for his bow, turning so that he could nock an arrow. Everyone had to be seeing this, the tiny District Eleven tribute hidden in the trees while a Career roamed beneath him. The Capitol had to be going wild on whether he would make the shot.
Bile rose up in Junmyeon’s throat, bitter and acidic. His stomach turned at the thought of people cheering over a death. They were nothing more than pawns in this game, made to kill for entertainment.
But he had a family, a brother who was waiting for him to come home.
His promise burned, the ring that Jongin had given him sitting heavy on his little finger.
Junmyeon closed his eyes, murmuring an apology under his breath.
The arrow made no sound as it flew through the air.
Chanyeol screamed.
Junmyeon turned away, unable to watch as crimson blood blossomed across his back, arrow buried up to its shaft.
The body fell with a thud, the cannon going off only moments later. Junmyeon swallowed. His hands were slick and slippery as he slung his bow across his back.
What would Jongin think?
Junmyeon felt filthy, as if the blood that stained Chanyeol’s clothes had somehow touched him too.
The river was cold and refreshing when he finally stopped shaking enough to climb down from his tree. He scrubbed at his hands for a moment too long, all too aware of how vulnerable he was.
A rustling from a nearby bush sent him scrambling back. He climbed, hand over hand. The bark scraped at his hands until the branches hid him from view. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he was sure the person beneath him could hear it too.
Whoever it was walked unsteadily. He could hear it in how they staggered into the lake and the way their breathing rasped in their chest.
A breeze swept past and Junmyeon seized the opportunity to move aside the branches so he could see the tribute clearly.
It was Chanyeol’s partner, Sehun, shirtless and half-submerged in the water. From his vantage point, Junmyeon had a perfect view of his sculpted chest, covered in slashes. The jagged edges of the wounds fluttered whenever he breathed and the skin looked inflamed as if infection was setting in.
Junmyeon touched his quiver, counting his arrows. He could make the shot. Sehun was possibly half delirious from his infection.
But he was so young. Jongin’s age, if he remembered right.
Gritting his teeth, Junmyeon drew his arrow, steadying his hand. His brother would be absolutely horrified.
But he wanted to win. Junmyeon wanted to go home, to the trees where the mockingjays sang, where Jongin’s smile made all the pain in the world disappear, where he could be himself and no one else could take that away from him.
He inhaled and for a beat, there was silence.
Sehun fell at once, the arrow making its home in the left side of his chest. He looked up and for a split second, their eyes met. Junmyeon’s breath stopped at the devastation written on his face. But he did not move, squeezing his eyes shut even as the cannon sounded.
The water was tinged red when he opened his eyes, Sehun’s lifeless body floating in the middle of the lake.
Junmyeon could not help it. He heaved, vomiting out of the tree.
This time, he forced himself to watch as the hovercraft picked up the body. The sun was setting and Sehun would be just another statistic in the sky.
At least he would not be alone.
Junmyeon stayed in the tree until he had stopped shivering, wiping away the tears that he did not know had fallen. He stayed until the death toll was recounted, the blood on his hands reaffirmed.
He was so distracted by his misery that he almost missed the basket hanging on the branch before him, attached to a silver parachute.
With trembling hands, Junmyeon tucked the parachute into his pack. It would come in handy sometime. There was a loaf of bread, still warm and steaming, goat cheese, fish and apples. It was practically a feast.
Junmyeon was about to dig in when his eyes caught onto something else tied to the basket. He exhaled in relief when he realised what it was, quickly slinging it over his back. It was a quiver, filled to the brim.
Leaning back, he forced himself to be sensible, spreading only a small amount of cheese onto the bread and stuffing the rest of the food into his pack. The bread tasted exactly like the ones Jongin would bake back home when they had enough and it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
Junmyeon pictured his brother’s face in his mind, tracing a finger over his ring. He would make it home, no matter what it took.