Chapter Text
The Head Gamemaker sips on a glass of wine as he hears Caesar's inquiry intently.
“I heard — and believe me when I say many of us have heard, that this will be your last year as Head Gamemaker.”
“Well I think I’m a little too old to be Head Gamemaker now,” the man answers with a sardonic chuckle slipped in the end. “And besides, I might bore the audience if I stay any longer.”
A burst of laughter erupted from Caesar’s mouth. He leans in closer to the other man, a grin forming in his face. “Now you’re just being modest. You must have something in mind to make your last year your most memorable!”
“I’ve been thinking, Caesar,” the Gamemaker starts, his excitement visible despite his eyes blocked by a holographic visor, “the Hunger Games exists to commemorate the tragedy of the Dark Days, the cruelty of the Districts — but it doesn’t have to be taken that way, does it? I know you in the Capitol watch the games with thrill, with excitement, like a celebration.”
“Please. It’s all thanks to Gamemakers like you! It’s a glory to behold, both for us and for the Victor. Their rise from the Districts to the Capitol always gets me going!”
Lear feigns a sulk and bites his lip for dramatic effect. “That's why I'll bring in their expertise for this year, but... I think it’s a bit unfair that you get to enjoy yourself and celebrate your beloved Victor while I work hard to keep you all entertained — and get this, my birthday is usually in the middle of the Games! I should be the one celebrating.”
The Head Gamemaker shakes his head before boasting out the loudest laugh in the area. “So that’s why, this year’s theme is special to me, and me especially.”
...
..
.
The TV screen flickers on and off every once in a while. Power has been rather unstable in the Capitol lately. Perhaps District 5 needs to keep their utility poles in check, or perhaps it’s time for her to buy a new screen. Either way, she supposes that’s enough television for the night.
She wants nothing more than to go straight to bed, but there’s a sharp ringing noise coming from her phone just as she tossed her blanket over her chest. Reluctantly, she forces herself out of bed to answer the caller, still stuck in a sleepy haze.
“....can’t believe I got sick right when it’s Games season… it’s so bad I genuinely can’t… I need you to come over and…”
But she only answers with vague ‘mhms’ here and there, in a blatantly sluggish voice.
“...I’m serious– are you even there?”
“Yeah, yeah – can we talk more in the morning? I’m kinda tired.”
There’s not another second before she went and closed the call, dropping her phone somewhere on top of her nightstand. She groans heavily as she throws herself to the bed once more.
And right after then, there’s another incoming call. This time she just tries her best to ignore it by covering her whole head with her blanket.
The day before the reaping, Sunny skips her way to a nearby stream in town. She wanted to look at some cool frogs before heading home from school. It's just the right thing to use the strips of film left for her polaroid camera, and a good way to use the few hours left before night falls and its curfew in District 10.
She's looking forward to showing her new collection of pictures tonight to her family. She swore to her cousins she'll get a rare shot this time.
Once at the stream near her home, she slowly crouches in search of the frogs' hiding place.
One passes in front of her, jumping up and down. Her face lights up in awe. “Come here, I won't hurt you,” she coos, raising her camera up. The frog, however, simply decided to skip away before she could get a good shot.
Guess that one's a little shy. Or maybe it just needed some space. Sunny could relate to that and perhaps even envy the little frog. Sometimes, she feels as though animals have more freedom in District 10.
Before she would be blessed with another one of these frogs, she saw a few of her classmates from school walking nearby. Sunny gave them a big wave, raising her camera to their face.
“Hey! I didn't realize you like going around here too. Wanna look at some cool frogs, you can even take a picture on my cam—”
“Sorry, Sunny,” one of them answers awkwardly. “We— we're just about to head back. Our parents are waiting for us.”
“Oh, okay. Bye!”
Sunny didn’t notice the way they avoided their gaze to her, or how they shifted uncomfortably with each step closer she took. She just guesses that everyone’s a little busy because it’s Reaping Day tomorrow. She just waits for the next frog or the next person to come — whatever comes first. And if it's another kid she knows, they'd always give her similar reactions before leaving.
Esperanza Reyes has always been the odd one out. Nothing new. She's used to it, though, and she smiles anyway. That's how she got the nickname Sunny — or Risa, in her family's tongue. She was always known for her bright smile, even if it's a smile that sticks out.
Just then, a blueish purple frog passed by. Her eyes beam in excitement! It's an invertifrog! She's read about them in a Battle Mutts book before. They were regular frogs, once, now given an enhanced sense of smell. For reasons they don't say, the transformation inverted their colors from green to purple, red to blue, and their black eyes to white.
It's not every day you see mutts with your own eyes. The Capitol only makes new ones for the Hunger Games nowadays, but some mutts from the Dark Days were released into the wild after the years were over.
The girl readied her camera and came after it as fast as she could without scaring it off. She can already imagine her cousins obsessing over it for days if she could get a picture of it!
A few people in the crowd, her classmates maybe, noticed her antics and wanted to see what she's doing. One of them was just about to try and get closer to her, even, but hesitated at the last moment when they saw someone else coming.
“Are you not embarrassed?"
Sunny turns over and is met with a familiar face. The only one who came to approach her is Julieta, her old friend, now standing right behind her. Her face, however, is hardly friendly. In fact, it hasn't been friendly for a while.
As if startled by the girl's appearance, the frog leaped far, far away.
“I can't believe you're still wasting time kissing frogs as if they'd magically turn into a prince one day,” Julieta scoffs, her arms folded, rolling her eyes at her former friend.
“It's not a waste of time if I don't have anything better to do,” she retorts, but Julieta only laughed in response.
“Yes, Sunny, we all know you don't have actual good things to do.”
Thankfully, Julieta didn't feel the need to pick at Sunny any further than that and simply walked away. Her words, however, still hurt even after she's left. Sunny sulks to herself. She doesn't get it. If Julieta preferred her new friends, it's fine, but she didn't have to be so rude about it.
After a while of staring off sulking, she tries to go back looking at frogs again. It’s probably for the best to not put much thought into it. Those cute eyes should take her mind off things. This time though, no matter where she bent her back and peeked, it seems that all the frogs have left the area.
Did Julieta scare them off with her attitude?
She sighs. Guess she should just head home. Maybe she could watch her younger brother practice his baseball tricks. He said it'll make him prepare. It's his first Reaping tomorrow, but he insists isn't scared — by the chance he gets picked, he'll just pick up a bat and swing his way to victory.
Her family is an odd bunch, but she likes it that way. They always try to understand her. Sometimes, she feels like they're the only ones who do.
When she arrives back home, she's immediately greeted by her younger brother, just as she predicted. He's drenched in sweat, head to toe, and drops the baseball bat he was clutching when he sees Sunny walk in the farm yard.
“Hey, Risa!” he shouts excitedly. “Welcome back.”
“Hi to you too, Felipe. Been practicing long?”
“Since 3 in the afternoon. I told you so yesterday.”
“Right, right, you promised to swing from 3 all the way til' sundown,” she recalls, rolling her eyes playfully. When Felipe sets a time, you better bet he's sticking with it to the second. “I thought you'd be playing with Dad, though.”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Dad's busy on the farm. He'll play with me tomorrow, though, after the Reaping. Me, him, Dulce, and Tomás. You'll come right?”
Sunny lights up hearing the names of her little cousins. “Depends,” she answers. “Can I read as I watch you play?”
“Tsk,” the boy scoffs. “You and your mutt books. You're so predictable, you know that.”
“So is that a yes or a no?”
“A yes, because I know those two would sulk the whole day if you weren't there.”
Amused by her brother's antics, Sunny lightly shook her head. “And that's how I know they always have my back. Speaking of which, where are they right now?”
“I was actually with them an hour ago, but I told Tomás to get lost because he kept teasing me on my skills,” he sulks, sticking his tongue out jokingly. “You should tell him off for that, by the way. They're probably climbing a tree somewhere.”
Sunny debates on chasing after them, but she reckons she should take a shower. Plus, the sun's about to set, and the two are probably running back home anyway. They can talk over dinner instead.
The girl reaches for the door handle, but before that, she makes one last glance towards her brother.
“You really shouldn't let a little kid get on your nerves, Felipe.”
“Hey. You're a little kid yourself!”
Dinner was different that night.
She doesn't know why. Her family was all there enjoying the meal — her grandma, her parents, her aunt, her uncle, her other uncle, her brothers, and her cousins. She can't shake the feeling that something is about to go wrong.
Maybe she's still hung over Julieta's comment. Or the fact that she didn't get to take pictures like she had planned.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. It's Dulce. The younger girl looks at her worriedly, but Sunny brushes it off.
“I'm fine, Dulce. I'll just go to bed early.”
She stood up and excused herself to clean up her plates, ending the night then and there.
In the morning, Sunny puts on her usual Reaping outfit. It’s a basic yellow blouse with a floral pattern etched on it, paired with a red plaid skirt reaching down to her knees. Her mother can be very frugal — these were clothes she, Josefina Reyes, passed down to her daughter the moment she’s a little too old to be wearing them.
She and Felipe were the first one to finish getting ready, already eating sweet bread in the dining room before anybody else came. Sunny’s a bit annoyed by her brother’s loud chewing, but she decided to not make a big deal of it.
Then, Dulce came down the stairs. She donned a simple blue dress, and underneath it was her pajamas, still. She’s sure the girl would take the dress off the moment she’s back from the Reaping. Despite being her older brother, Julio walked down last, his gait still unsteady from the morning fatigue. Paint splatters stuck to his overalls, but other than that, he cleans up as nicely as he could in a short amount of time.
“Sorry to keep you guys waiting,” he says, rubbing his arms to adjust the sleeves of his shirt.
“Well, it’s fine,” Sunny shrugs, “Let’s just go before the plaza’s already jam-packed.”
Her family usually goes to the plaza early to avoid much of the flock coming in at later hours. She still has to deal with the suffocation, but at least she’s spared much of that hassle in the morning.
Once there, she takes hold of Dulce's hand and squeezes it gently, just like they did last time. This is Dulce's second year. Ten only separated the reaping crowd by gender, not by age, which she's thankful for. It feels less stifling to have someone she knows nearby.
While the Mayor is doing his speech about the Capitol and the Dark Days, Sunny’s eyes wander towards Dulce, and then her mind wanders to her younger cousin. Tomás isn’t of reaping age yet, he’s still ten, but she’s still worried how he’d fare when the time comes.
That’s the downside to living in a large family. You have more people to worry about. Which is why she doesn’t get why her aunt and uncle are trying for a third child, when they already had Dulce and Tomás.
Not that she wouldn’t love them, no, and she knows she should respect their decision. She just doesn’t see the appeal of bringing another person to the family when the house is already full and the future is already uncertain.
Then, an unfamiliar face walks on stage. District 10 has a new escort this year. She introduces herself as Niki, dramatically bowing down as the camera focuses on her. Her dress was shiny, extravagant, even compared to the best of the District’s.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Reaping of District 10!” she announces cheerfully. “It is an honor for me to represent the Capitol on this very fine day, just as it is an honor for two of you to represent your District in the 66th Annual Hunger Games!”
The woman claps to herself after finishing before steadily heading towards the glass bowls presented in front of her. She raises her arms and dips them in each bowl at the same time. Her hands swirl for a few seconds before deciding on her pick, pulling them up in one swift motion.
“Ladies first. Who’s our lucky girl…?” she says as she unwraps the paper around her finger. “Ah! Esperanza Reyes! Let’s give our welcome!”
Both of Sunny’s eyes shot open. She glances over at Dulce, begging for her to give a sign that it wasn’t just her name that had been called, anything, but the little girl only gave her a look of pity.
Reality soon thrust on her, and in this reality, there is no denying what she just had heard. Suddenly, the crowd became more suffocating than it ever did before, and she didn’t think that was even possible.
She hovers to the stage with deep shudders and trembling feet, and hovered slowly she did. Not even her beloved cousin, staring at every move she makes, could properly describe the look on her face.
And that was the last thing Sunny recalls on the Reaping. She fell into a dissociative state, hazing away as she felt all her senses shutting down. A blank stare on her face for the remaining of the time. She doesn’t even hear who the male tribute is, or the closing speech that the escort gave as a farewell.
When Sunny came back to her senses, she was already inside the city hall. The room she found herself in was minimally decorated, with a few sofas circling around a table, natural light seeping in through the blinds, and a yellow wallpaper with a rose pattern — though that has begun peeling off bit by bit.
Two peacekeepers guard the entry, separating her from the mutters right outside the room. Soon, the doors open to reveal Sunny’s entire family lining up behind the door. Only her parents were allowed in, however.
Sunny realizes she had long been holding her breath. She bursts up, immediately going over to pull her mom and dad into a tight embrace. Their hands rush to return the hug, a few sniffs here and there from either of the three.
“Mama, Papa, I can’t – I don’t —” she yelps, or at least, tries to. All Sunny ends up doing is stumbling on her own tongue.
Her father rubs his hand on the back of her shoulder to calm her down. “Listen to me, Risa. It's not the end of the line for you yet. You’re a smart girl and we know it. You just have to keep your wits about you and—“
“I don't know if I can!” Sunny blurts as the words she held in finally leave her tongue. Then, and only then, could she release the tears stuck in her eyelids.
Her mother shushes her lightly, handing over a napkin for her to wipe away her tears.. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You should at least try. It's more than enough for us. We’ll be rooting for you no matter what.”
There's the reason the saying goes “may the odds be ever in your favor” and not may the efforts be in your favor. Trying isn't enough to get a tribute back home, but she knows that her daughter is a fighter, and that’s more than enough.
The napkin soaks up all of Sunny’s tears until her eyes run dry. Without notice, the Peacekeepers from before barge in again and inform them that their time is up.
“Wait–” she calls out. For a moment, the peacekeepers halt. Sunny leaps forward and hands over the napkin back to her mom. “You left this.”
Neither of her parents takes it back, however. “No. You keep it. It’s your token now,” her mother insists, flashing her one last smile before she and her husband are led away.
In silence, Sunny fidgets with the napkin her mother left her. She traces the embroidery on the fabric, knowing well the woman stitched them on herself.
After making her parents leave, they let her two brothers in for their visit. Felipe immediately shouted her name loud and clear.
“Risa! Risa!” he hollers, rushing into the room faster than their older brother. “Don’t go— Don’t go just yet. I’m not ready to let you go!”
Julio pulls him back in order to give Sunny some space. Although her cheeks have dried by now, her red eyes told him that she had been crying, and he figured the last thing she needs is more pressure.
“We don’t have much time,” he mentions. “The Peacekeepers only let the rest of us in if we cut it short. I just want you to know that we love you, Risa. We all do.”
“I’ll… I’ll try my best,” she mutters, a weak attempt to reassure her brothers. “I already promised mom and dad that. I’m not… I’m not going back on my promise.”
Julio, however, took interest in the napkin she’s holding. “Did mom give you that?”
Sunny nods promptly. “Yeah, she said I could bring it as a token.”
“Would they allow it, though?” he proposed. There is a question to consider. “A napkin could be considered cheating, since it can be used in the arena.”
She looks at the napkin again. “You think so?” It’s quite small for her to use it to choke someone, or even use it as a proper tourniquet. She silently curses the Capitol for making the rules unclear.
“I mean, the worst they can do is confiscate it,” the older boy frowns. “And besides—”
“If you really try hard enough, any token can be used as a weapon anyway. You should like, tell them off if they try to take it away from you. Show them what a weapon really is about—”
Much to Felipe’s dismay, Julio pulls him away before he could finish his sentence. “We’ll get going,” he bids softly, turning around and giving his farewell. “Your cousins want their own turn too.”
When the two boys leave, both Dulce and Tomás take it as a cue to immediately barge in. They try their hardest to not cry, even though it’s obvious they want to.
“I can’t believe they made us come in last!” Tomás whines. Before long, he broke out into tears, sobbing loudly. “Nothing will be the same without you — who’s going to make tree forts with us now?”
“Hey, idiot,” his own sister elbows him.“She's not gone yet.” And yet, eventually, Dulce too couldn’t prevent tears from welling up in her eyes.
Tomás was surprised that Dulce opened her mouth to speak, so much that he pulled himself back together for a split second to properly say his goodbyes.
“We’ll miss you. Very much. Mom and dad had to come back early,” he says, taking deep breaths between sentences, “but they wish you good luck. The best of luck, even.”
“What about Abuela? Is she coming in next?”
Dulce and Tomás shot each other a knowing look.
“Yeah, they won’t let Abuela in.”
A gasp came from Sunny’s lips. “Wait, what? Why?”
Tomás shrugs. Tension hangs in the air as he speaks. “I… I’m not sure. I think the Peacekeepers really don’t like her, but they’re not telling us why.”
Before they could say anything else, the Peacekeepers in question would swiftly inform them that their time is over. For dramatic gestures, one of them even pulled a timer indicating the end of their visit and coughed as loud as he could.
Tomás rolls his eyes, but he had the decency to bite his tongue for once. Dulce was the first to take the cue to leave, though, not wanting anything to do in the room anymore.
And Sunny could swear she heard the two of them crying from afar.
Sunny's eyes gaze through the window ever since she stepped on the train. District 10 grew smaller and smaller with each second passed, and even though it’s barely an hour, she already misses her home.
The light footsteps of a boy finds her way to her, taking a seat across the girl. Esperanza, was it?”
“That's me,” she nods. She looks aside and is greeted with the sight of her district partner. “You can just call me Sunny. And you? Sorry, I didn't get your name earlier.”
“I'm Tal,” he says, taking her hand to shake. “I hope we can be good friends. Er, as much as good as this can be.”
Their brief talk was interrupted by the sound of clanking boots. An old woman passes through the car door. Sunny recognizes her as one of District 10's older Victors, the stern looking Cattleya who's already judging them the moment she stepped in.
They with greeted with only half a smile. “Lucky me, it seems that we actually have fighters this time around.”