Chapter Text
The 65th Hunger Games
July 4
“Bianca di Angelo.”
Nico’s heart pounded as his head snapped to his sister, standing in the crowd which was now dispersing. The Peacemakers were walking over.
The female tribute was Bianca di Angelo.
He wanted to cry or scream or volunteer- he couldn’t volunteer; she was a female tribute and he was a male, not to mention the fact that he was only fourteen, so there would be no possible outcome where he survived the Hunger Games. Still, his sister had just been reaped . They had called her name and there was nothing he could do.
The Peacekeepers were grabbing her arms, and Nico pushed forward slightly in the crowd, tears forming in his eyes despite him desperately wishing they weren’t.
Bianca glanced back, eyes scanning the crowd for him, her mouth forming a thin line which Nico assumed was the closest thing he could possibly get to a smile- to reassurance that maybe it would be okay- Bianca wasn’t one of the careers, but she could hold her own in a fight. She was resourceful, she was quick, and she knew how to hold a sword- she wasn’t half bad at archery either, though people didn’t really consider that a useful skill. He didn’t agree with that, though, and just because the Capitol didn’t always supply bows didn’t mean they were never there.
Yes, Bianca could fight. She could hide out and wait and Nico would find some way to help send food to the arena so that she could then kill the last person. She would survive. She had to survive.
“Now, the male tribute!” The escort of the District One tributes - a pale old man in one of those fancy Capitol suits embellished with gold details and accessories named Minos - continued and Nico looked towards the stage.
He would get to say goodbye, at least.
He really didn’t want to say goodbye to his sister.
Minos reached his hand into the other bowl of slips. Nico was entered three times, his third year of waiting anxiously through the reaping - though that wasn’t entirely true. He had been anxiously waiting since he was ten and Bianca was twelve, when she was a part of the reaping for the first time.
She was only two years from being done with it. So close.
“The male tribute for District One is…”
Nico looked up, seeing Bianca looking back at him still, now standing next to her mentor. District One had plenty of victors, but Nico knew them all. So what if he had once thought that the Hunger Games were cool , and he had studied each and every single one of them - he had stopped when he was ten.
The mentor for the female tribute this year was Percy Jackson, a boy who only won a few years ago. Percy had been reaped when he was sixteen as well, and now he was twenty-one. Nico had watched his games, back when he and his classmates all dreamed about training in one of those career institutes and bringing back glory for their district. Back when he would joke with friends that he’d become a victor, back before he had to wait through Bianca’s first reaping and decided that he didn’t like the Hunger Games at all.
Maybe Percy had advice for Bianca. Maybe he could-
“Nico di Angelo.”
For the second time that day, Nico’s heart stopped.
His eyes widened and he probably gasped, not that he could hear anything over the deafening sound of his thoughts. He heard Minos’ voice over and over again.
Nico di Angelo. Bianca di Angelo. Nico di Angelo.
He must have been standing there for a moment too long because there weren’t any more people around him now. His classmates, his friends were staring at him with pity and grief, as if they were already planning his funeral. They might as well.
There were hands grabbing him now, and two Peacemakers on each side of him, one probably behind him, dragging him towards the stage, towards his sister .
There was only one victor of the Hunger Games.
Nico blinked back tears, but they probably fell anyway. Maybe a career would volunteer. For Bianca. For him? Who knew. Careers didn’t volunteer every year - sure, it was a chance for glory and riches, but it was still ultimately a game with death. Probably half of the careers who volunteered actually survived, so they either had to be insane or egoistic to do it. It was more of an idea for children, to make them ‘proud’ of their district, but barely anyone stuck with the career programs until they were eighteen.
Before he knew it, he was on the stage, barely able to remember to breathe. He was not going to have a breakdown at the reaping. That could wait.
He wanted Bianca to comfort him, hug him, tell him it’d be alright. But how could she? They were both practically sentenced to death the second that Minos called their names. Especially Nico. He’d die before he saw his sister killed. She had the better chance of surviving anyway.
“Are there any volunteers?”
Yes, please, yes. Let someone volunteer. Someone who trained. It didn’t matter if it was the female or male tribute, either way would work. Anything would be better than both him and Bianca in an arena where only one or neither could survive.
Silence.
Of course this year of careers decided not to volunteer. Did they think it would be amusing? Would they forfeit their chances of another victory to District One just for the suspense? Did they think one of them would turn against each other? Would the betrayal excite them?
There would be no betrayal. There would only be death. Definitely for one. Probably for both.
“Well, then,” Minos said, turning to give a thin smile to each of them. He was definitely enjoying it. Nico tried not to scream.
“The tributes of District One for the 65th Hunger Games: Bianca and Nico di Angelo!”
July 16
A cannon fired.
“Four left?” Nico muttered, following Bianca through the tunnel, sincerely hoping that it was actually the right way to the small cave. It had been their hideout since last night, and Nico wasn’t sure whether it was better because it had more tunnels leading to it- meaning they could escape easily, or whether it was worse because tributes could ambush them from any direction. It was a bit further from the pond that they had found, though, but Bianca pointed out that was probably for the best- they didn’t want to encounter any other tributes.
Bianca hummed, nodding her head. “If we’re lucky, they aren’t a group. If we’re not lucky…”
“-Then they’re out to get us next,” Nico finished, “Fun.”
“Oh, so fun, Nico,” Nico could tell that Bianca was wearing that strained smile that she used when trying to lift his spirits. She had been using it a lot lately. It didn’t work. “After all, we’re in the Hunger Games . Wouldn’t be a game if it weren’t fun.”
Nico huffed a laugh, if only to make Bianca feel better. He tried to distract himself from what would happen in the next few hours. He was honestly surprised he had lasted this long, even if he would probably die soon because of the other tributes or because of the Capitol.
Still, maybe Bianca could survive. The only advantage to being a tribute (not that he would necessarily call anything an advantage) was that he could talk to Bianca’s mentor. Percy had promised to keep her alive. Or to try to keep her alive the best he could. He wasn’t sure if Percy had said that just to get him off his back, asking a million questions about his time in the games and what the best strategies were, or if he actually meant it. Hopefully the latter.
His own mentor was probably very frustrated with him. Reyna Ramirez-Arellano had won even more recently, only two years ago. She had been a career, volunteering at eighteen, and coming back with a victor’s crown like her older sister. He didn’t remember much of her games. He had stopped finding them interesting.
Still, Reyna, though serious and strict, did seem to really want to help him survive. Not that Nico cared much. If he survived, that meant that Bianca was dead. So, he didn’t care for Reyna’s advice, even when she continued to talk to sponsors and send food for him and Bianca.
It seemed like Percy and Reyna were working together, really pushing the fact that they were siblings on the sponsors. If they worked together, they’d have double the chance of one of them winning the games. And despite Nicos’ abysmal score of four (so what if he attempted to shoot a bow and arrow like Bianca rather than use a sword? Sure, he’d be better at that, but it didn’t matter much anyway), Bianca had scored an eight, which was able to get some attention. Their sponsors were probably frustrated as well, though, as Bianca hadn’t even found a weapon other than her sword, and she hadn’t used that at all.
Nico had managed to get a bag when running away from the Cornucopia, which held a dagger and a blanket. Bianca had tried to convince him to take the sword and she take the dagger, but Nico had immediately refused. There was no way Bianca would be able to defend herself with just a dagger.
So, they had waited it out. They had some issues- specifically with dehydration before they could find water, a lot of dead ends, and they had run into so many rooms with traps and rodents- Nico had tripped and twisted his ankle the day before.
The arena was set up as some kind of labyrinth, an endless maze that was dark and small and cold and Nico hated it. It didn’t have a ceiling, except for some parts, which Nico guessed was so that the Capitol hovercrafts could pick up the bodies. That didn’t comfort him.
Other than that, though, he would say that it was pretty smooth sailing. As smooth as it could go in the Hunger Games.
“Okay,” Bianca sighed, crouching down next to one of the boulders, “I’m gonna try and find some food. I doubt that sponsors will be rooting for us this late into the games.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go-”
“Nope,” Bianca’s eyes narrowed, “We heard noise from that tunnel down the other way- the one with the fire. The others are probably there and I’m not letting you-”
“You think we should split up ? Are you serious?”
“Nico-”
“If you’re going to get food, I’m going with you,” Nico said stubbornly, “You can’t say that you’re going directly towards the other tributes and then expect me to just wait here.”
“I’m not even getting any! You really think they’ll just have a tunnel leading to a feast or something? I’m just scouting out the area, I promise. I’ll be right back.”
“But what if-”
“No what if’s,” Bianca frowned, “I won’t go far. And if I call out, you’ll know to pack up and run straight back to our hideout from yesterday. I’m faster than you, Nico, and I’ll focus better knowing you’re safe.”
“Why can’t we just wait for Percy or Reyna to send something else? The others won’t have unlimited food; we could wait them out.”
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “The odds aren’t in our favor. Sponsors will lean more towards the others. Y’know, the tributes from Two and Four. They’ve got eight’s and nine’s and ten’s-”
“You got an eight!”
“Yeah, using a bow and arrow. See this?” Bianca raised her sword and waved it around, “Not a bow and arrow.”
“You’re good with a sword.”
“You’re better.”
“I’m not giving you the dagger. Or taking the sword.”
Bianca huffed, shaking her head. “Okay, then. Keep your dagger. Can we go with the plan now?”
“...Fine.”
Bianca smiled, a genuine one this time, leaning forward to pull Nico into a half hug and ruffling his hair. She set down the backpack and held her sword in the right hand again. “Stay here.”
Nico nodded, the words goodbye, I love you on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t say that, though. He couldn’t. Bianca would come back. It was only for a few moments. And she was right, anyway. She was a faster runner, even if Nico was stealthier, and she could yell loud enough to alert Nico to go to their backup spot.
So, he waited.
He didn’t really have anything to do. All their supplies (a small bottle filled with water from this hidden room (had it been worth it? Bianca had nearly passed out because of the flames that appeared as soon as they entered), his dagger, the blanket, and some nuts they found but didn’t eat because they had no idea whether they were poisonous, but kept anyway as a last resort) were in the backpack, which was on the ground. He wondered whether he should take the dagger out, but if he were to run, it’d probably be safer in the bag. With his luck, he’d probably trip and stab himself.
With the weird layout of the arena, there were plenty of hiding spots, and yet tributes were getting killed off quickly. Not only were there a million tricks that the Capitol laid out, some of them weren’t even fatal. They had encountered a tunnel that immediately let out a screeching noise, alerting pretty much every tribute in the arena where they were. They had managed to make it out, somehow, but Nico learned his lesson from that.
Most of the tributes had died on the first day. Districts Three, Six, Ten, and Twelve were immediately out. One of the tributes from Eight and one from Nine died the next day, but Nico had been sleeping when the pictures showed up.
Then, that had dwindled down over the third day, leaving only the tributes from Two and Four, as well as one of the tributes from Eleven. He guessed that the team of Two and Four had killed Eleven just a few minutes ago, unless the careers were already splitting up. The constant attacks and team of careers from Two and Four made the games go by quicker than he ever remembered. Or maybe it was just actually being in the arena, not watching it from home.
He had tried to stop himself from being overly pessimistic but now it was all catching up to him. Did he truly think that if they were up against four people who had trained their whole lives for this, that Bianca would be able to survive? He could maybe take on one, and that was a big maybe . But he also couldn’t leave Bianca to fend for herself against three people who wanted to kill her.
Maybe the careers would turn on each other. He hoped so. That was the only chance they had of any kind of success-
A scream.
Nico jumped to his feet, not bothering to touch the backpack or get his dagger because he heard a scream , a piercing cry for help that frightened him more than anything else. Bianca hadn’t gone far, but it was a girl screaming, and that thought made tears form in his eyes, if only from stress.
Bianca hadn’t gone far. She wouldn’t have been caught. She wouldn’t be-
Nico was running, and he was pretty sure he lost his way back to the hideout, but he didn’t care. He heard noise from the tunnel on his left and ran that way, despite what Bianca had said about staying put. If she wanted him to go to the second hide-out, she would have called his name. And if it wasn’t Bianca screaming, then everything would be fine. Even if he died, maybe he could take out one of the other tributes with him just to make it slightly easier for her.
There hadn’t been a cannon fired. Not yet.
He made it to another intersection, pausing. There was a symbol on the side, one that he remembered Bianca drawing the day before. A small star. He had assumed this was where Bianca would be. Not far.
But Bianca wasn’t there.
He was aware he was in danger. He didn’t have his dagger, his only weapon, he was small and wouldn’t survive two seconds in a fight if it were based on strength, especially after seeing the scores of those other tributes. The Capitol could decide his time was up at any given second and just shoot spikes out of the walls, set him on fire, drown him. But that didn’t matter because Bianca had said she was just looking but if she were, she’d be here-
There was a loud grunt to his right, down a dark corridor. He remembered that. It led to a small room with two exits, no danger that he had found last time, but the Capitol was always switching things up in the labyrinth.
The cannon fired. Twice.
Nico scrambled through the corridor, ignoring the pain from his twisted ankle, because who cared if Bianca was-
Dead.
Eyes glassy and wide open, a cut on her arm and a slit on her throat, her sword in the chest of another tribute, the girl from District Two, Nico recognized.
Both dead.
Nico’s throat closed, he was crying whether he liked it or not, eyes not leaving Bianca, his sister , who was dead.
For once, his mind was completely blank, not able to process. His sister was dead, but she couldn’t be dead, because she had said she would be back- he hadn’t said goodbye -
“The boy’s still out there,” a rough voice came from quite a bit behind one of the doors(they weren’t really doors, they were giant stones, but what else could he call them?), and Nico’s head was fuzzy, but he forced himself to concentrate. He could mourn later. He would mourn later. Once he won the games.
He hadn’t ever wanted to kill the other tributes unless it was to protect Bianca. Reyna had said that it was best to get over that mentality because they would surely kill him. He hadn’t cared, as long as Bianca would be okay.
But now these tributes- they had sent this girl to kill his sister and Bianca was dead because of them. Because of the Capitol and their stupid games, but most directly because of them.
“But you killed the sister?” a girl spoke, the female tribute from District Four. Nico inhaled sharply, eyes widening.
The person who killed Bianca was alive. It wasn’t the girl lying on the ground. Bianca had been ambushed by two, and killed one.
“Yeah,” the guy made a noise resembling a chuckle, “One’s got no chance; he scored a four . Probably hiding out somewhere.”
There were footsteps coming now, closer. Nico didn’t have a weapon. He needed a weapon.
He didn’t have time to think, the girl from Four was now saying something to the other guy- not the one who said he had killed Bianca. The stone that he had called a door was moved to the side and Nico jumped back.
The guy - male tribute from District Two, a career, Bryce Lawrence, his brain supplied - was wearing a grin. A rush of anger swept over Nico. This person had killed Bianca. And he was happy about it. He probably didn’t even know Bianca’s name; he had called Nico “One”.
In one quick motion, one thought running through his head, he grabbed Bianca’s sword from the other girl’s body. Bryce frowned for a moment, obviously surprised by the movement. He had good instincts, Nico could tell, as he immediately reached for his knife. Not good enough .
“ You killed her.”
It was quiet and quick and Bryce probably didn’t even hear it but Nico didn’t have the time to second-guess himself; all he knew was that Bianca was dead and Bryce had killed her. He didn’t need any more reasoning than that as he threw himself forward, ignoring the pain in his leg as Bryce’s knife slashed it, and Nico stabbed him in the stomach.
Bryce let out a cry of pain and Nico choked on a sob. The talking between the two other tributes stopped, and before he knew it, the tributes from District Four were in front of him, weapons in hand.
This was how he was going to die.
He was relying on pure instinct and rage at this point, which was stupid, because he had only taken a few years of classes with a sword. He had taken fake career lessons because his classmates were as well, and Bianca had said it was a good enough hobby as he was making friends.
He didn’t really think he’d ever use it.
He was holding the sword once again, and it was two against one, and there was another knife thrown at him that he just barely deflected with his sword.
They all killed Bianca. Bryce had been the one to slit her throat, Nico assumed, but that didn’t make the others innocent. They wanted Bianca to die, and yes, this was the Hunger Games, but that was his sister.
The boy had thrown the knife, but the girl had turned and- oh, the boy didn’t have an arm anymore. They must’ve thought- they thought he wasn’t a threat. The boy was injured, he was betrayed, and Nico didn’t think twice before picking up the knife that fell at his feet and throwing it over, and- he had never really been good but he did have some aim and they weren’t far away at all - it landed in the boy’s hip. He dropped to the ground.
The girl turned to Nico, eyes narrowed with some kind of crazy fire in them. Nico guessed that he looked pretty similarly, he felt like he wasn’t in control of his body as he leaped forward. The girl lifted her spear in response, and then swung in offense. The whole world seemed fuzzy, and Nico could barely make out the figure of the female District Four tribute falling down after a few- seconds? Minutes? Of fighting.
She had a wound in her stomach, close to where Nico had stabbed Bryce. The girl had kept aiming too high and Nico had kept ducking and somehow there was a cannon firing. Again.
Nico dropped to his knees.
He had blood on his hands- literally and figuratively, and he was pretty sure his leg was bleeding. He felt dizzy, but the tears had stopped falling so he could finally see what was surrounding him.
Five bodies.
Three he had killed, or at least taken part in killing, one that his sister had killed, and the last, Bianca.
Bianca.
He blinked back tears that were suddenly starting to fall again, and fuck, his sister had died. She was dead. It wasn’t something that he imagined or had a nightmare about or dreaded. He and Bianca were really in the Hunger Games. Bianca had died.
And he was alive.
He crawled over to her body, the sobs now taking over and causing him to choke as he repeated her name, no , I didn't get to say goodbye, it should have been me.
There was an announcement that rang through the arena. There was a hovercraft above him. The darkness that he thought was because there was a stone ceiling above him was removed, and light flooded the room. Nico closed his eyes.
He was a victor. He won the Hunger Games.
The announcer- gamemaker- whoever it was, was telling him to get away from the bodies. So what? Would the Capitol kill him now? They couldn’t do anything. All he had to live for was dead.
He laid his head on Bianca’s chest, his hand reaching for hers, refusing to leave until the Peacemakers arrived and dragged him away.
The 66th Hunger Games
July 5
Nico was getting really tired of being stared at.
Unfortunately, the perks of being a victor did not help with that. He was given money (okay, that was slightly useful), a house for him and his family (might as well rub it in that he was alone, that the games had killed off the only family he had left), and fame. Lots of fame.
Nico hated it.
Back when he was a kid, he used to think the Hunger Games were cool. Winning them seemed like a dream, because if you survived the Hunger Games, you would live on forever. Not because you’re immortal, but because no one forgot a victor’s name.
Being the youngest victor in Hunger Games history did not help with that. Neither did the fact that he killed three people.
Because the careers and older teens were looked at in awe when they won the games. They had what was considered the ultimate life of luxury, and they were strong enough to earn it. Usually, they were also done with school, which meant they could relax for the rest of their lives with periodic visits to the Capitol and mentoring other tributes. Not that they needed much mentoring in District One, but still - It was the thought that counted.
Being a victor at fourteen, now fifteen, however, the kids only looked at Nico like what he was: a killer.
He was never the most popular kid. He was slightly weird and he didn’t have any super wealthy or well-known parents, seeing as he had never known his dad and his mom died when he was ten. But he and Bianca had made do with the money their mother had left behind, which was enough until Bianca got a job at a local bakery, and Nico was going to apply as well when he was fifteen.
Now, of course, he didn’t. There was no point.
So, he was stuck at school, sitting in the ten millionth history class explaining the Hunger Games. It wasn’t like they hadn’t heard the story every year since they started school in the first place. Everyone knew the purpose of the Hunger Games, how they worked, and the expectations of them at this age.
He felt like the class was just mocking him, reminding him that the games were never going to leave. That the cycle kept repeating even when Bianca had died.
A male and female tribute had been reaped the day before.
Life moved on.
The games had begun. And he was in class. Again.
“...Isn’t that right, Mr. di Angelo?”
Nico’s head snapped up from his blank piece of paper, no notes being taken. Why would he? He had no talents other than his abysmal sword-fighting, which may have saved his life, but that was nothing to actually do with his life. He’d be happy if he never held a sword again.
“Huh?”
The teacher only smiled thinly. If it had been the year before, she probably would have lectured him about paying attention in class and given him extra homework. Not that he would have zoned out the year before. He had been a good student, eager to learn. He had memorized pretty much every single victor and how they won, even if he didn’t think it was cool anymore. But that was before he was in the Hunger Games.
It all came back to the Hunger Games.
“We were just agreeing that being a victor of the Hunger Games is a position of great prestige and honor. Would you have anything to share about living in the Victors’ Village?”
Nico scowled. Of course. As soon as he returned for the games, not a single person had said oh, I’m sorry your sister died. No one had even mentioned her. Only the woman who ran the bakery, Hestia, seemed to remember Bianca. Other than that, it was just talking about how he fooled everyone, hiding his skills like that. What a strategy!
“It’s… alright.”
The teacher’s smile grew thinner. “Alright?”
What did she want him to say? That he never even used the bed because he couldn’t sleep without nightmares waking him up? That the house was cluttered with a million different hobbies that he used to try and distract himself from the loss of Bianca? That every corner he turned, he thought he was about to stumble on his sister’s dead body, or that the ghosts of Bryce Lawrence and his allies haunted him wherever he looked?
That the only people he talked to were the other victors, and even that relationship seemed strained, seeing as he had pretty much attacked Percy at first sight. Not his finest moment, but he was angry. At the Capitol, at the tributes, at the victors, at Percy from promising he’d try to keep Bianca alive but he didn’t, even if the rational part of his brain reminded Nico that there was nothing Percy could’ve done.
He hadn’t left his house for weeks until school started, and that was only because he had been ambushed by Percy, Reyna, and Annabeth, another victor, reminding him that he did still need to go to school. Treating him like he mattered, like anything mattered after Bianca had been killed.
Instead, he didn’t say anything. Nico grabbed his bag and walked out of the classroom.
He made it outside to a bench, sitting down to take a breath of fresh air. He really didn’t have to leave. The lesson wasn’t really triggering any bad memories- other than just the mere mention of the Hunger Games, but Nico couldn’t escape that. He had left class for that reason so many times since the games, but it wasn’t like they could tell him not to.
The thing was that despite the fame, no one ever made any attempt to talk to him. District One was very hierarchical, which made sense with it being one of the wealthiest districts. If you were rich, you were a career. If you were a career, you were popular. If your parents did something noteworthy, you had a chance of being popular. If you were anything else, then you simply weren’t.
Now, he had actually won the Hunger Games, and he had never felt so alone.
Even the few friends he had before the games looked at him strangely, as if he were a different person. That made sense , he thought with a grimace. If he had seen one of his friends kill three people, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to look at them the same either. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Can I sit here?”
Nico jumped slightly, shielding his eyes from the sun to see who was in front of him.
He didn’t seem to need to answer, as the boy sat next to him either way.
Will Solace , his brain supplied, finally recognizing the blonde. Part of his class since- forever, honestly, even if they had never interacted much other than a project years ago.
Will stared a lot.
“What’re you doing out of class?” Nico finally muttered, moving his bag slightly towards him.
“Said I had to go to the bathroom.”
“And she let you?”
“Yep,” Will popped the ‘p’, staring at the ground.
“Why?”
“Same reason she let you run out, I think.”
Nico scoffed, squinting as he looked in Will’s direction again, “‘Cause you won the Hunger Games?”
“Because I lost a sibling to the Hunger Games,” Will answered, as if he knew exactly what Nico was going to say. Nico’s eyes widened slightly, looking back towards the ground.
“Oh.”
This was the first time anyone other than Hestia had even mentioned Bianca. It was nice to know that someone remembered she existed, even if Will could have, should have said something way earlier.
Nico didn’t know what to say, and Will didn’t say anything for a while either, until-
“My brother was reaped yesterday.”
Nico’s head turned once again. Will wasn’t looking at him. He racked his head for the right name-
“Michael Yew? He’s your brother?”
Will nodded, “My half-brother. But Lee was reaped two years ago. Lee Fletcher. He was my half-brother too.”
Nico remembered Lee Fletcher. He was skilled. A lot of people were betting he’d win, and continue the three-year streak of District One winning. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano. The 61st, 62nd, and 63rd Hunger Games. But Lee had made it to the top two when a tribute from District Three set up a trap that ended up with Lee’s skull being crushed.
Nico wasn’t sure what to say. What did he want someone to tell him about Bianca? I’m sorry ? He honestly just wanted someone to mention her, to remember her, but he didn’t know what Will wanted.
“I remember him,” he ended up saying, “He had a really good chance of winning.”
Will nodded, muttering something under his breath that Nico guessed was not good enough , but he wasn’t sure. It probably was. Nico felt bad.
“Why’d you actually come to talk to me?” Nico said, “You know I’m not a mentor. I can’t do anything to help him.”
Will finally looked at him. His eyebrows furrowed, as if he were confused. “I know. I didn’t ask you to.”
“Then why-”
“Maybe I just wanted to talk to you, and now is the only time I could,” Will said, “Maybe I’ve been trying to talk to you for a year but you always run off to the Victor’s Village during breaks, and usually the teacher wouldn’t let me follow.”
“You don’t actually want to talk to me.”
“How would you know? I know that you notice me staring.”
“Everyone stares at me,” Nico huffed, crossing his arms and holding the fabric of his shirt, “That’s what happens when you kill people and everyone in Panem is watching.”
It came out more harsh than Nico meant for, but that was probably good. Will could mourn his brother and Nico could forget all about him, live the rest of his life in solitude in the Victor’s Village.
Will was silent. Nico would have thought that he had gotten up and left now that he knew Nico was no help, but there hadn’t been any noise to indicate that.
“I’m not scared of you, you know.”
Nico looked up again, seeing that Will was still facing his direction.
“And I don’t think anyone else is, either,” Will continued, “We knew you and Bianca before you were put in the games-”
“Oh really ?” Nico said sharply, “It doesn’t seem like anyone knew Bianca, because no one’s ever brought her up. No one’s said a single thing about her, and no one wants to talk to me. You don’t either.”
Will hesitated, then admitted, “Okay, I didn’t know her. Michael did, though. They did archery together. The only two people that bothered to learn, but Michael always said that it’d be better to have a long-range weapon, even if the arena doesn’t always supply them. He said that Bianca thought the same, and when he saw your games didn’t supply a bow and arrow, he wouldn’t speak until the games ended. I dunno if he was actually close with Bianca, but he used to say he wanted to talk to you. Except you never leave Victor’s Village, and we aren’t allowed in there.”
Nico averted his gaze to the ground again, holding his breath. “Oh.”
“I just… I don’t know,” Will continued with a small sigh, “I do want to talk to you. Not about Hunger Games stuff. You used to seem really interested in it, but I… I didn’t know what else to talk about. I don’t know anything about you.”
Nico stayed silent, staring at the ground for a minute. He could feel Will staring at him, but it didn’t seem like the usual stares he got. Maybe Will’s was always different, and he was just noticing it now.
Finally, he stood up, grabbing his bag.
“Annabeth Chase is Michael’s mentor,” he spoke, facing away from Will, “If anyone can talk the Capitol into putting a bow and arrow in the arena, it’s her. She’s good at strategy too; it’s how she won her games.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll tell the Peacekeepers that you’re coming over later for a school project. If you want. They shouldn’t bother you, and nobody other than me lives in my house anyway.”
He didn’t wait to hear Will’s response, deciding he had enough of school for the day, and walked back home.
July 20
Someone was knocking at Nico’s door.
A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have moved from his bed. Now, he had a guess on who it was. He just hadn’t thought that Will would want to see him now.
He quickly made his way to the door, not at all surprised when he saw the curly blonde hair of his best friend. More like only friend, but he supposed that that automatically made him his best.
Will looked horrible.
“Hey,” he said, voice slightly strained.
“Hey,” Nico responded, glancing behind him to see the Peacekeepers at their normal post. They must’ve gotten used to Will coming over, even if it had only been a few visits. “C’mon in,” he gestured vaguely with his hand. Will just nodded and made his way to one of the many rooms, flopping himself down on the couch.
Will didn’t speak, and Nico wasn’t sure whether he wanted him to.
“I was… uh… watching the games too,” Nico finally said quietly, noticing Will lift his head slightly, “I’m sorry. I don’t know if that helps- it probably doesn’t, I just-” he made some kind of gesture waving his hands, not exactly sure what it meant. Will seemed to understand.
“You watched them?” he asked.
Nico nodded.
“I didn’t think you would.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“ Because ,” Will shifted on the couch, now looking at Nico, “Last year. I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to see that.”
Nico shook his head, “He’s your brother. And- and you’re my friend. Sort of.”
“Sort of? Just sort of your friend?” Will huffed a laugh. His grin was strained. Fake. “Geez, di Angelo, I thought I meant more to you.”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He waited for a few more moments of silence before speaking, “How are… how are Austin and Kayla?”
“Not good,” Will sighed, “They- we all kinda knew it was coming. I mean, it was good that he had a bow and arrow, but still. The odds just aren’t ever in our favor ,” he said the last bit sarcastically, then shook his head. “We knew it was coming. We said goodbye. That’s all there is to it, I guess.”
Nico observed Will. He had dealt with this before. He had seen his eldest brother, Lee, die in the Hunger Games, and now he had watched Michael suffer the same fate. This time, though, he was the oldest. His younger siblings, Austin and Kayla, were turning to him for comfort.
“You can cry, you know.”
Will’s head snapped over, eyeing Nico carefully.
“I just- if you want me to leave, or- or stay. I mean, it’s- you don’t have to act like it’s fine. It isn’t.” Nico looked at the ground, “The games suck. And I couldn’t do anything about Michael- or Lee, but if you want to just- stay here. You can. Until you’re ready. The house is way too empty anyway, but like- if you wanna leave, then that’s cool too, I just-”
“I’ll stay,” Will said quietly. Nico looked back up and could see the tears begin to form in his eyes. He probably hadn’t been able to react at all when he saw Michael get killed. “Stay,” he repeated.
Will shifted again on the couch, taking up only half of it rather than it all. “I thought- I don’t know what I thought,” Will said, “He made it to the top three, and it was taking so long, and I thought that maybe… I should’ve known.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Nico said, eyes not leaving Will, “You can never know. You think that one thing’s gonna happen for certain, and then…” Nico raised an eyebrow as Will patted the couch next to him.
Will flushed, looking at one of the decorative pillows. “You don’t- you don’t have to. You’re just- uh, really far away. And I’m tired. I can barely hear you.”
They weren’t that far apart. The room was big, but not that big. Nico got the message.
He got up and walked over to the other couch, a few inches away from Will. Will looked at him questioningly, so Nico opened his arms, rolling his eyes. He waited another moment before feeling Will move over, accepting the hug and resting his head on Nico’s shoulder.
Nico heard Will breathe in shakily before speaking, “Our dad was from the Capitol. I don’t remember much of him; he disappeared when I was a toddler. Lee and Michael remembered him, though, and they said it wasn’t his choice to leave. Lots of people spread rumors about it when it happened. Some people said he got in trouble with the president. And- I don’t know whether it’s ‘cause of him, but… they were both reaped when they were seventeen. And the games are supposed to be random but…”
“It’s a really sick coincidence,” Nico finished, looking down at Will. Both his brothers reaped at seventeen. Will was fifteen. Did that mean…? “You’re not going to get chosen in two years.”
Will didn’t answer, only shifted slightly.
He was giving Nico an escape. Will believed he was going to be sent to the Hunger Games in two years. Nico could kick him out, forget he existed, and then it wouldn’t hurt so much. Will would understand.
But right now, Will had just lost his older brother. He was grieving. And he had gone to see Nico.
Nico lifted his hand gently, resting it on Will’s head. “You’re not going to get chosen in two years,” he repeated. “You’re not going to have to fight.”
Will sat up slightly, turning his head around so he could look at Nico. It was as if he were analyzing Nico’s face to see if he wanted Will to leave. Nico held his gaze, trying to convince himself as he convinced Will.
The reaping was a coincidence. One like how he and Bianca were chosen, despite not even having that many entries. He raised his arms again as the first tear fell from Will’s eyes. They didn’t leave the couch until the sun began to set, but Will didn’t say anything else.
Nico figured that as time went on, Will would share more. Nico would probably talk to him about Bianca as well. He would remember what Will said, but he couldn’t spend any longer thinking about it. He had spent a year grieving and isolating himself. Now, though, he was starting to think that he was wrong. Why else would Will show up at the Victor’s Village despite not being invited, and Nico having nothing to offer him?
It was a good feeling, Nico decided, having a friend.
And even if that friendship had an inevitable deadline, one that would end in death despite all of Nico’s uncommon optimism, he had at least a year. Hopefully two.