Here, have some more Hunger Games AU from a random point in the story I definitely have not mapped out yet at all or edited and may or may not have the time to continue. I’m feelin’ angsty.
The night before the games, the city lights were like nothing he’d ever seen. From the vantage point of their penthouse suite, he could see for miles, even beyond the limits of the Capitol. What he wouldn’t have given for a view like this back in 12; it would have made hunting a hell of a lot easier. He surveyed the lights throughout the dark city, able to pinpoint groups of people from the brightness and the noise. Parties. Celebrations for his inevitable demise; the richest of the richest eager to watch children of the poor murder each other. It made him sick if he thought about it too much, so he hugged his legs to his chest and closed his eyes. If he tuned it all out, only gave his attention to the breeze, he could almost picture he was back there, that the wind was whistling through the trees and not atop a tower. That any moment, he would turn around, Kikyo would be there behind him, bow and arrow taut, or maybe at home with Shippo, listening to a storm pass overhead in their cabin.
“Mind some company?”
He didn’t move, but he opened his eyes. He knew the voice well. Kagome had silently padded out onto the outcropping, her pajamas flimsy and probably not sufficient for this cold. If she was in the same mindset he was in, though, she probably didn’t notice. The whole day had been a haze. They were probably going to die within the next week at most; who could make space for feeling cold when they already felt so much fear? Her undereyes were dark and her hair was a wild tangle. She’d been tossing and turning, most likely. He felt a little bad about that, but couldn’t pinpoint why.
Wordlessly, she sat opposite him, leaning back into the wall. She folded her legs to her side and copied his gaze, staring out into the city.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.
“Don’t sleep well anyways. And the noise…”
She chuckled darkly. “Yeah. Me, too. I guess our untimely deaths are worth celebrating. Or something like that.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He doubted there was anything he could say to that. They sat together in mirrored silence then, the whirring of the wind and cheers carried on the breeze. After a moment, he glanced over at her, her silhouette illuminated by the distant city lights. He had the errant thought that she looked as if she was glowing, almost. Like some warmth from within her gave her the light that outlined her profile. An inner brightness. A sun for a soul. Her eyes were closed as his had been, her eyelashes fanning over her soft cheeks.
How was he supposed to kill this girl? Everything in him, every fiber of his being, screamed at him to protect her at all costs. He had to protect this girl of light and warmth so that she could shine forever, so that she’d never dim. If not for him, at least for his district. If she survived, who knew what good she could do for the district? Besides, she’d make one hell of a victor.
But he couldn’t forget Shippo. The kid needed him. Actually needed him, for things like food and shelter. Kikyo couldn’t watch him forever, not when she also had Kaede to worry about. So he had to win, or at least, he had to try. He had to win the Hunger Games.
It was only then that he remembered what Totosai had said on the train, the three of them huddled at the dinner table to talk strategy, his glass of whiskey sloshing as the train jostled.
No one really ever wins the Hunger Games.
Staring at Kagome, he was starting to understand, starting to piece together how this could be. It was a lose-lose scenario, unless you were a psychopath. Either you die, or you kill someone you knew, someone you’d likely care at least a little about, coming from the same district. You’d lose yourself either way.
“Inuyasha?”
Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realized he had been staring at her for a while. His cheeks reddened with a ridiculous embarrassment— at this point, weren’t they past the point of being shy, given what they were about to embark on?— but still. Whoops.
“Would you… can you promise me something?”
She was looking at him now, her brows furrowed; serious. This was something she had been thinking about for a while, it seemed. He frowned.
“What is it?”
“If something happens to me…” she chuckled in spite of herself. “Or when… can you make sure my mom and my little brother make it okay? I don’t want to burden you or anything, I just… since my dad died, the bakery’s been strapped for money, and I don’t know how they’re going to make it without my help. Souta’s barely eleven, and the thought of him entering his name multiple times, just for rations…” He could see the weariness in her gaze, the desperation in the purse of her plush lips, her clenched jaw. This was not easy for her to ask.
“What makes you so sure I’ll survive to help?”
“You will,” she said, turning her gaze back to the city. “You’ve got the best chances the district’s had in years; everyone knows it, even Totosai.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Sure, he was handy with a sword, excellent at hand-to-hand combat, and proficient in just about every other weapon, but so were a lot of the Careers. Against one of them, the odds were pretty even, and certainly not “ever in his favor”. The only reason anyone was making a fuss about him at all was his decent scores and because he was from one of the outer districts. If anything, Kagome may have a better shot than him, just because she was so charming on screen; that was bound to get her sponsors. So he said what he felt he had to.
“You could still win, Kagome.”
“No.”
He almost jumped at the ferocity of her answer. She was glaring at him, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched. He had touched on a serious nerve.
“I have no chance, Inuyasha. Okay? None. So just. Please,” she said, her voice softening with her gaze. “Please promise me this. Don’t let them starve.”
“I won’t,” he said. And he meant it. “I won’t let them go hungry Kagome. I’d never let them go hungry.”
He wondered if, in that moment, she knew the true meaning behind his words, and why he would so easily make that promise. He wondered if she knew that he remembered the day she did not let himstarve.
And, for the first time since they arrived in the Capitol, she gave him a genuine smile. The kind he recognized from school; honest and true. It was close-lipped, still with a hint of sadness, but it was genuine. That inner light shining again. It made his heart constrict. It made his lungs deflate. It made his stomach churn.
It was then he knew the answer to that terrifying question: how was he supposed to kill this girl?
