Chapter Text
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Sieun didn't think too much about the Games. Not more than he should have, anyway. It didn't depend on him, his brother, or on anyone for that matter. It was about luck. Or at least that's what Sieun believed.
And his luck wasn't that bad or, at least, hadn't been for the last five years, when he had to attend every anual reaping, hoping he wouldn't get picked for the games. And it really wasn't about him going, it was about his brother being left behind, alone. His brother, who isn't even just a slight bit as ignorant about the games as Sieun. His brother, who gets scared and gets nightmares about the games, whose hands tremble next to Sieun's in front of the stage where the escort calls out their names. And Sieun tries to keep him calm, tries to convince him that he's safe, no matter what, tries to tell him that the chances of him getting picked are low, because his name can be found only once in the bowl of names.
While Sieun's name can be found 20 times.
He knew, the odds were not really in his favour. But it has been necessary to take tesserae every year, to keep his family alive.
Sieun breathes out, trying to shake these thoughts off his head. The fact that his birthday and the reaping day fell into the same hell of a day made him wish he were dead. It's horrible. Someone to wish you a happy birthday, a wonderful life full of joy and love, while you knew that the Capitol people were waiting to see the district kids getting picked for the arena. Someone to give you a gift, to hug you, while you know that later in the day you are going to stand in front of that stage, preparing yourself for your probable and possible death.
He stares at the ceiling. He has been for some time. And he doesn't know what time it is, whether it is night or day. He can't feel Juntae next to him anymore, his warmth. He must've slipped away from their bed during the night, because of his nightmares. Of course he has, it's the reaping day.
Sieun can't blame him, it's scary. But if Juntae is scared, and so is their mom, who can't seem to show a single feeling or emotion anymore, then what can Sieun do? Can he give up, throw himself on the floor and start crying? Can he just give up, stop hunting and be scared too? No, he can't.
For Juntae, he must remain as he is. For his mom, he also thinks. Even though he doesn't know what she is to them anymore. Just a cold figure, another mouth Sieun has to feed in this house? A mother figure for Juntae, a glimpse of comfort during his nightmares? A quiet person, a lost soul?
She used to be a beautiful woman, a bright and loving woman, Sieun hears. And it might as well be true. But what use would these words have, if this woman is now a distant memory, a withdrawn voice that Sieun has to keep alive now.
And he misses his dad, even though he remembers only pieces of him. He remembers his hands, his words, despite the way his voice gets lost through other different ones in Sieun's head.
"Happy birthday, Sieun!" Juntae walks happily in the room, as if he hadn't had nightmares about this day for the last months. Sieun fixes his gaze on his brother. Juntae inhales sharply and barely even exhales. He tries to keep composure, it's obvious. But Sieun can see his fear in his eyes. Juntae swiftly makes his way over to his brother, a smile ghosting across his lips.
Sieun's corners of his mouth rise up a little too, as he pushes himself up against the mattress, to greet his brother. "Thank you, Juntae." He whispers as he notices a small box in Juntae's hands.
"This is my gift for you!" Juntae sang, taking a place by his brother's side.
Sieun frowned, his shoulders tensing. A gift? Juntae bought a gift, from the little supply of money, or food, if he traded it. He spent a possible day of their life for Sieun's gift. Avoiding his eyes, Juntae placed the little box in his brother's hand. Sieun sighed heavily and opened the box.
A small mockingjay pin met his eyes. A beautiful mockingjay pin. Juntae must have traded a whole rabbit for this one, Sieun mused.
He looked at Juntae with heavy eyes, but then they softened and he offered him a hug. Juntae finally relaxed his body and gaze, as he feel into his brother's embrace. "You know you didn't have to. Maybe you could have bought yourself a meal." Sieun whispers. "But it's your birthday, and it's special." Juntae returns with the same quiet voice.
Their hug breaks when another figure enters the room. It's their mom, forcing a grin on her cold face. A heavy and unnatural silence falls upon the room, the warmth Juntae was offering being swallowed away. "Happy birthday." She began. "I prepared you a cake, Sieun. You two should come and eat it, before it gets cold."
Sieun wanted to scream at her, to tell her that a cake isn't enough to make him forgive her, to make him forget every single cold and distant act of her's. But he just nodded, placing the mockingjay pin away. "Sure, mother, we will be there." he mumbled.
He stands up, trailing off to the kitchen. But as he approaches the door, he hears Juntae's soft sobs. He turns his head slowly. "Junate, what's wrong?"
"I'm scared, Sieun. So scared. I don't want to go, I don't want to lose you or mom. I don't want to lose myself in an endless fight. I don't want to get picked, Sieun. And I try to stop crying, but I can't. I'm sorry." He cries. Sieun's eyes start watering. No, he can't cry. Not now.
He rushes to Juntae's side. "Listen, it's alright. I promise you. You won't get picked, Juntae. Stop crying, your name is in there once, I've told you, yeah? There's no way they'll get you. Don't be sorry, it's alright to be scared." He says in a soothing tone.
Juntae spoke in a calm voice. "Do you promise, Sieun?"
"I promise you, Juntae." He smiles, or at least he tries.
He eats a piece of cake as he's watching Juntae's eyes soften. His breaths are now stable and his sobs dissapear. Sieun calms down too, he lets out a sigh as he finishes the food. He has to hurry up, he thinks, if he wants to meet Seongje before the reaping.
Seongje has always been next to him, in a weird manner, Sieun thinks. A brutal person, in his words and actions. But a kind one to Sieun.
He hunts with him, helps him trade and sell the animals he catches. So, he helps Sieun bring food and money home. What more could Sieun ask for from a friend? In spite of his help, Seongje remains an unusual figure, a glimpse of distrust, a way to show Sieun that even the closest people can cross a border and become wild, out of control.
Sieun excuses himself and puts on his jacket. The air is cold, heavy, like the world knows that the reaping day has come. It's silent, like it usually is on that day. People stay inside, dressing up neatly, cleaning themselves fully, eating nice meals, hoping it's not their last day together.
Sieun also observes the cars of the Capitol filling the district. They set up the main stage. They glare at anyone crossing the square and threaten them with guns. Therefore, the people know not to linger too long around these Peacekeepers. There's no sight of the kids usually playing in the square anymore and the adults keep their distance.
Sieun's eyes trail off the Peacekeepers and he hurries to the forest, as he manages to slip through the tall fence that trails around the district's borders. It once used to be guarded, and electricity spiked through its wires before. It was wrecked, a few years ago. Entering the forest was easy, trying not to be spotted by the Peacekeepers was harder. But it was the only way Sieun could bring the trades back in the market.
He grabs the bow. The one his dad once made. He runs his fingers over the hard surface of it and takes a deep breath. This bow was part of him, in a way. It was his way of being free. It was a source of life for him. So was the forest. His happy place, his place of comfort, where he knew he could breathe, he could feel and see life as it is, not worrying about the Peacekeepers in the square or the trades in the market. And besides all of it, the forest reminded him of his father. It was the place where Sieun learnt to live his life.
As he scurried through the trees, searching for a bird to shoot, he heard a sound behind him. Frozen, Sieun turned around, keeping his body tense, preparing himself to let his fingers slip, letting the arrow fly.
"Easy there, psycho. I'm not gonna kill you." Seongje's voice filled the silence as a smile grew from his lips. Sieun's body remains just as tense, but he lowers the bow and lets the arrow slide down into his hands. "I told you to stop calling me that, Seongje." Sieun mutters as he walks past Seongje in a fast pace, searching for a bird or a squirrel with his eyes. He feels Seongje's hand slightly touching his shoulder.
"Over there, psycho." Seongje whispers sharply into his ear as he points his finger to a branch where Sieun can see two birds sitting, quietly, next to each other. He aims. And then he shoots one of the birds straight in the head. "See, what would you do without me? Happy birthday, Sieun." Seongje slides his hand over Sieun's waist and offers a grin, slightly pulling Sieun after him.
Sieun follows, he usually does, fighting with Seongje was the last thing he wanted or needed.
They sit down on the grass, at the end of the hill, under a tree. The silence keeps growing, but it's not unsettling, like the one from earlier that morning. But Sieun doesn't tell Seongje about his mother, nor does he speak to him about his brother. It's better to keep it for himself. Sieun glances at Seongje, who is searching for something in the pocket of his jacket.
He pulls out a small loaf of bread, grinning. "A gift for you, birthday boy. Got it for you from the bakery this morning. Almost got in a fight with the baker's boy, so you better enjoy it."
Sieun's heart jumps, he doesn't know if the cause is the piece of bread, Seongje's act or the fact that he heard 'baker's boy' , but he doesn't care about it anymore. What matters is the food Seongje brought. Sieun hadn't seen a proper piece of bread for weeks, even for months.
"Is this real?" He breathed out taking the bread from Seongje and biting it. "As real as it can get." Seongje laughed.
Silence fills the air again, as they enjoy their food, but Seongje breaks it once more. "So, the reaping." He mutters.
"Yeah, the reaping."
"Do you ever think of getting away, escaping this place forever?" Seongje continues.
"I do, but what good does it bring, when we both know it wouldn't work." Sieun counters as he finishes his quick meal.
"We would go through the woods. All of us, our families." Sieun laughs at Seongje's words. So much naivety in his tone. He knew they would all be dead in a day, or two. "Juntae, in the woods? Let's be serious. We would be gone in a few days anyway." Sieun breathes out a laugh. Seongje doesn't glance at him and doesn't reply to Sieun.
"I'm never having kids." Sieun blurts out and Seongje just stares at him for a moment. "I would, if I didn't live here." He added. "But you do."
"Well I would if I didn't!" Seongje insists.
Sieun nods, preferring to keep his silence, letting Seongje calm down. He gets it, everyone is pressed. Everyone wants freedom, everyone wants to have a family they can provide a safe life for. It's not possible, Sieun thinks. At least not for now and definitely not in the near future.
"How many times is your name in there?" He then whispers to Seongje, who struggles to find his place on the grass. "42 times. Yours?"
"20."
They stare at each other, because their words are gone, and so is half of that hope that they won't be the next ones going into the arena.
"It's going to be alright, psycho. We will get through it. See you later, at the reaping, make sure you wear that nice navy suit your ma made for you." Seongje chuckles as he stands up. Sieun's mouth twitches upwards, slightly. "Make sure you clean those glasses properly, Seongje. And may the odds be ever in your favour." He joked, mimicking the way the escorts say the last part during the reaping ceremony. Seongje huffs out a laugh. "May the odds be ever in your favour." He continues.
They part way, afterwards, and Sieun walks home. His mom laid out the suit on his bed. The navy one, Seongje's favourite. Sieun puts it on, looking in the mirror.
The birthday boy. The unlucky boy whose birthday decided to be on the day of the reaping.
He glances sideways and catches a glimpse of the pin from Juntae. He picks it up and stares at is for a moment, before shoving it in his pocket.
"Sieun, are you ready?" He hears Juntae behind him. The fear in his voice is still there, growing stronger than before. "I am, Juntae. You look amazing, I wish I were as handsome as you." Sieun begins, fixing Juntae's bow tie.
"You look just as handsome." Their mother's voice comes quietly from behind. Sieun's smile drops and he doesn't turn around to look at his mom. "Let's go, yeah?" He whispers to Juntae as he puts on his shoes.
The square is full of people, young and old. The children are sitting in front of the stage, waiting in fear, the parents are in the back, tears in their eyes, holding the hands of their young children, who they know will be sooner or later just a name in the reaping bowl.
Sieun watches Juntae stand with the ones his age. He tuggs at his sleeves, biting his lip. Sieun walks two rows behind him, with the seventeen year olds. He drifts away from Juntae and his eyes meet Seongje's, who is sitting on the other side of the marked square. Seongje nods at Sieun, offering a slight smile. Sieun doesn't return it, but he considers it a sign of hope.
Then a sound scares all of them. Park Humin, district 12's one and only mentor, falls down the stairs of the stage, clearly hitting his head and catching everyone's attention. Sieun watches as Go Hyuntak, their escort, pulls Humin's body and stands him up.
Sieun doesn't know much about either of them. He knows that Park Humin won his games six years ago, when he was fourteen. He fought, a lot. But then finished his game with an act of 'rebellion', they say, even though nobody really knows what he did. And because of that, they killed his dad, the only remaining member of Humin's family. From that day, he started drinking and hasn't ever stopped. Hyuntak is the only one keeping him sane, Sieun thinks. He came as their escort after Humin won and has kept him company ever since. Every year, he gets on the stage and calls out two names for the arena.
Humin's usual brown hair is now red, Sieun recalls. That's stupid, adding the fact that he sprawled out on the stairs a few moments before.
Hyuntak sits him down on a chair as he quickly makes his way to the microphone. He then starts talking, having the same speech as he does every year, and Sieun ignores his words, as he usually does. He stares down, at his shoes, at the ground and the flowers that are blooming, as summer's approaching.
But not paying attention for a few seconds just cost him a fortune.
"Juntae?" Before he realises, Go Hyuntak is calling out his brother's name. Sieun's heart skips a beat and he searchers Juntae with his eyes. He's frozen, just like Sieun.
"Come on up, darling! Don't be afraid."
And Juntae does. He moves. His younger brother, whose name is only once in the reaping bowl, whose fear of this moment has been growing bigger and bigger every year, fixes his bow tie as he moves slowly towards the stage.
Sieun's legs move faster than his thoughts. "I volunteer! I volunteer, please! I volunteer as tribute!" He screams as loud as he can, making his way to the stage, running.
Silence. The guards stop approaching him and Hyuntak remains frozen.
"Well.. I think we have our first volunteer." Hyuntak mutters into the microphone. "Come on. Get up on the stage." He says, looking at Sieun. Humin finally rises his head up, and a frown appears on his face.
Sieun makes his way there, as Juntae starts screaming and crying. Sieun can't turn around, he can't see him like that.
But Seongje pulls Juntae back, forcing him to step away and calm down as Sieun steps up the stairs where his future mentor had just fallen. Hyuntak pulls him next to him, beside the microphone. Sieun stares at the crowd, his eyes tearing up.
"What's your name, young man?" Hyuntak quietly asks, pity embracing his tone. "Yeon Sieun."
"Well I bet my hat that was your brother, wasn't he...?" Hyuntak asks and Sieun nods slowly, eyes not leaving the crowd. "Yes."
"A round of applause for our very first volunteer, please!" Hyuntak asks, starting to clap.
Instead of clapping, the crowd rise up their three middle fingers, touching their lips before rising their hands up in the air. Sieun feels like he's going to throw up, like he's going to burst out crying. They show him gratitude, Sieun recalls. Before he can rise up his own, Hyuntak hurries his way to the bowl, again.
"Our second tribute is.."
Silence.
"Ahn Suho!"
Sieun's heart does that thing again, like it wants to skip its usual beats. His eyes meets Suho, who is standing in the middle of the crowd where Seungje had been standing before.
Suho glances around him, scared, like he's waiting for someone to volunteer, like Sieun did for Juntae. Nobody does, though. Not this time.
Without a word, Suho makes his way on the stage and stands next to Hyuntak, silently. "Our two tributes from district 12!" Their escort adds, when Suho finally stands next to him.
"Come on your two, shake hands!" Hyuntak adds as he leaves a gap between the two boys. They turn to face each other and they shake their hands, slowly.
Sieun rises up his eyes, meeting Suho's and he remembers.
He remembers that night, that cold night. He remembers how he felt, sitting in the mud, next to a tree, his stomach rumbling from the lack of food. He had been searching for food the whole day.
But then door of the bakery slowly opened and a small boy came out in the rain, carrying two loaves of bread, clearly overbaked.
He spotted Sieun, and stared for a second, before throwing the bread next to him. He then entered the bakery just as fast.
And he had never forgotten the baker's boy.
He came like a sunshine into Sieun's life, like the faint sound of the warm rain in the summer morning, like the first dandelion of the spring. Sieun never got to thank him about it.
So he remembers. He remembers the boy that saved him.