Chapter Text
Breakfast was a sombre affair in the Yagami household that morning. They ate in silence before it was time for Soichiro to head to work. He bid his wife and daughter to stay strong and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, hugged his son before leaving.
Soichiro was the Head Peacekeeper of District 1, and the day of the reaping always required full attendance. That day was no exception, despite the man’s wish to spend more time with his family.
It couldn’t be helped. He just had to hold on to hope that his son would return to them, and that there would be many more opportunities to spend time with his family.
District 1 hadn’t won the Hunger Games in a while, and many people had lost interest in the career program. Light was not one of them. He excelled there as he did at everything, and Soichiro couldn’t be more proud. Even if a part of him feared for his son’s life, the trainers had assured him that there was no better choice to volunteer for District 1. He had to believe Light would win, and make them all proud. He had to.
*
While Soichiro headed to work, Sachiko carefully erased the signs of a sleepless night from her face, concealing the bags under her eyes, curling her lashes to appear more alert, practicing her smile for the thousandth time. She rarely paid so close attention to her appearance, but her face would undoubtedly be shown at her son’s reaping, and for his sake she had to look confident, controlled.
*
Sayu took less time to get ready than her mother and brother, and was waiting for them when they came downstairs. Normally, she would’ve been impatient, but today she found herself reluctant to step outside, as if that would make the day real. Sayu was no fool. Her parents could pretend all they wanted, but she knew her brother would not be the same when he returned, if he even survived. Perhaps she was too cynical about such matters for a girl her age- it was only her second reaping -but she couldn’t find it within herself to understand the purpose of the whole thing. Why should her brother risk his life for the crimes of other districts long ago?
Such thoughts were treasonous, of course, and so Sayu kept them to herself even as she kept a tight grip on her brother’s hand all the way to the town square.
*
Sachiko had heard there were no female volunteers this year. The best candidate, Glimmer, was deemed too young at sixteen, but would likely volunteer next year. (There were rumours Glimmer’s mother had bribed the trainers into allowing her to stay home another year. Sachiko didn’t approve, but she understood.) Her heart went out for the poor girl whose name would be drawn, but she told herself it would at least mean less competition for her son in the long run. She watched as Fabia Blush, District 1’s escort, reached into the reaping ball and withdrew a single slip of paper.
“And the female tribute for District 1 is… Sayu Yagami.”
No. No, it couldn’t be.
Already Sachiko’s mind was leaping ahead. No one would volunteer. Both her children would enter the games, and only one could return.
Light would not let Sayu die.
Sayu’s face was blank as she followed a Peacekeeper up onto the stage. The escort dithered on about what a sweet little girl she was before hesitantly asking for volunteers. She must know there wouldn’t be any female volunteers. Indeed, nothing but silence greeted her question.
Sachiko forced herself to remain calm. For her children’s sake.
*
Just like that, his plans were ruined. His goals unreachable. His dreams shattered.
Why had no one volunteered? Where was Glimmer? Selenite? Gloria? Why had they trained alongside him if they wouldn’t volunteer when needed?
Because they were selfish. Because they wanted to stay home and safe while letting his little sister die in their place.
His District had abandoned her. He would not forgive them. But it made no difference. He was powerless.
A small, spiteful part of him wanted to let the boy reaped after her be sent off to die too, so another family would feel how he felt, so another child would know what it was like to be abandoned like his sister. He indulged the thought for a moment.
Then he volunteered.
*
Soichiro couldn’t breathe.
Sayu.
It was Sayu. His daughter. His sweet, innocent daughter.
He couldn’t lose both his children…
His son volunteered as if nothing had happened, calm as ever. He addressed the crowd, introducing them to his little sister, assuring them all that he would protect her.
Soichiro’s mind seized onto that assurance, that promise, and it was all that kept him from breaking ranks and demanding his daughter stay.
He had always known the games were a necessary evil. For years he had feared the day his son would volunteer. But he had accepted it. He had supported it.
He could not support this.
Not Sayu.
Please, not Sayu.
*
Sayu knew her parents were struggling to hold it together when they said their final farewells, showered her with reassurance and praise. She hugged them both, and wished she didn’t have to let go.
Her own eyes were dry. Everything seemed so unreal, dreamlike.
Her parents wished her luck, and told her to stay strong, and she didn’t recognise her own voice as promised she would.
Her brother stood off to one side, saying nothing at all.
Later, she couldn’t remember if their parents had even said goodbye to him.