A Tribute's Heart -Chapter 2
As the 71st Hunger Games draw near, you and Minghao must navigate the complexities of your relationship. When you're reaped, will the arena transform you into someone unrecognizable? And when it’s all over, will Minghao still see you the same way? Will you even make it out alive?
Pairing: District12!Minghao x District12!Reader
Notes: A bit of a shorter chapter here, but still long enough I hope. I got the new book today! I'm so excited to read it!! It may be a little bit longer until I write the next chapter because I will be pre-occupied with that, but no fear it will be on the way soon. We also won't be seeing Minghao for the next few chapters :,( , but no fear he will still be important to the story! So please stick with me <3
Chapter 2: Shadow’s of the New Day
The Peacekeepers grab Jaehyun and Y/N by the upper arms, forcefully pulling them into the Justice Building. Y/N’s feet drag behind her, stumbling as they hurry her along towards one of the room’s they use for tributes family and friends send off. Her heart beats erratically, a peace that pinches her chest, as each step amplifies thudding, drowning out everything else.
The Justice Building is cold, its gray walls oppressive. The air smells faintly of mold and bleach, its walls coated in harsh lined shadows cast by the tall, narrow windows that look out into the courtyard. The light that filters through does little to banish the heaviness of the situation, a weight pressing at her lungs as Y/N inhales shakily. Every inch of this place feels foreign, she’s walking the first step of this nightmare of the journey to the capital that will end in her death.
The Peacekeeper opens the door to a small office, letting go of Y/N’s upper arms as he all but pushes her in. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N sees a last glance of Jaehyun as he’s shoved in to his own make-shift send off room.
“One Hour” the Peacekeeper barks before all but slamming the door shut.
Y/N’s eyes scan the surprisingly well lit room. There's a couch—it almost looks new, its cracking leather at the corners it's only give away of its age, but still the piece of furniture is far better than anything she’s ever had at home. She can’t even remember if her own bed at home ever looked so pristine. An empty desk sits on the right wall of the room facing the coach, and large bookcases line the wall separating the two.
The shock of the entire situation still has yet to dissipate within Y/N. Sit or Stand, SIt or Stand, Y/N ponders to herself unsure what to do with her anxious energy. Sit, she decides. Landing on the coach Y/N runs her rands across its cool surface, soft she thinks to herself a childlike wonder reflects in her eyes as she takes in the new experience. Its soft in a way that makes Y/N’s stomach flip, knowing it's the first and last upper class object she’ll experience in her district but a forebode to the things in the capital she’ll see and experience before her ultimate demise. There’s no springs prodding at her, or lumpy inconsistencies to the filling of the couch. Y/N can’t recall if her bed at home had ever been this comfortable. She allows for her weight to sink into the cushion, limbs slightly loosening as the reality of the situation starts to settle in further.
Y/N sits in the silence of the room, the seconds stretching out into a false infinity. What did I do to deserve this? Her mind keeps circling back to that one thought, but i guess no one truly deserves to get plucked from their home and family to be shoved into a ring that adapts every year to be more and more entertaining for those in the Capitol. She’s never been the rebellious one, the troublemaker. She’s just a girl from District 12, one that was supposed to be free from this system after this reaping. To go have the closest semblance to a normal life with Minghao. She can feel the tears threatening again, the familiar pressure building behind her eyes.
The door swings open, breaking Y/N from her spiraling trance. Y/N’s heart skips a beat as she looks at her mother. The older women, tears streaming down her face, moves toward Y/N with haste. Y/N mother drags the young woman into her arms, falling to her knees as she pulls Y/N, still sat on the couch, toward her. The embrace--Y/N would have usually complained was strangling --but now, it is the last time she’ll ever be held by her mother. The hug breaks whatever computer Y/N had left, her tears now run freely down her roundish cheeks as she hiccups with sobs.
Y/N mother leans back, keeping her hands rightly on Y/N’s shoulders, “You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine,” she says, wiping the tears from Y/N’s face with her left hand. YN’s arms hang lifeless at her sides. What fight do I have? The Career districts are trained for these games, Y/N internally scoffs, the most she could ever manage is getting past the bordering fence of the district without getting electrocuted.
As Y/N looks at her mother, she finds the same fear that gnaws at her own gut, an anxiety that won’t let her breathe, reflecting back at her. She’s not strong enough to do this. She knows that deep down. Y/N doubts that even her mother can truly even believe that she can come out alive.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N chokes out, the words spilling before she can stop them.
Her mother shakes her head, her grip tightening on Y/N’s shoulders. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault,” she says firmly. Y/N’s mother pulls the girl back into her embrace. There’s no time to pretend, this is real.
Y/N’s arms hang limply by her sides, she knows she’s nothing like the tributes from the Career districts. Nothing like those that sneak past the gates to catch extra food free from the Capital’s Tesserae. Others have skills, or have been trained for this—prepared.
As Y/N and her mother try to find some kind of composure, the door opens again. Her family walks in, faces struck with grief. She's not even dead yet but Y/N feels as if she's a walking corpse beside them. In the mere seconds between the door opening and closing, Y/N catches a glimpse of the Peacekeeper stationed outside. No chance of running, she thinks to herself. Past her personal guard, Y/N can see Effie stood by the Justice Buildings door. Though Y/N couldn't hear or make out what the women was saying, it was evident in her movement that Effie wanted them to get a move on.
Her Aunt Lynn bursts forward, wailing as she grabs Y/N from her mothers embrace and into own. “This isn’t right. This isn’t right at all!,” Aunt Lynn says, voice breaking. Uncle Sam stands behind, his hand on her back, silent. His eyes, though, are full of that same helplessness that Y/N feels.
After a few minutes Aunt Lynn steps back, allowing Aunt Sophia to take her turn. The woman strokes Y/N’s hair, the action returning Y/N to her youth. She feels small, the moment causing more tears to stream down her face as she reveals in the childhood comfort being provided to her. Uncle Ian steps aside of them and wraps his arms around them both.
“I can’t do this,” Y/N croaks.
“Like hell you can’t. You’re walking out of that arena,” Olive speaks out, her lips trembling as she tries to conceal her own emotions. “You’re not going to let them win,” she says so determined.
The room falls quiet. For a moment, the thought of surviving crosses Y/N’s mind. THe idea that she could come home after everything the Capital is going to put her through. But it’s not a reality, District 12 never wins. She’ll be discarded and forgotten, like all the tributes before her. The Games are a death sentence, and it’s not just the fighting she’s scared of—it’s what she’ll possibly become. How could I ever come back from this the same? Y/N questions to herself.
“We believe in you,” Alice says softly.
Aunt Sohpia and Uncle Ian unwrap their arms from around Y/N and step back.
Sat alone on the couch Y/N leans forward, resting her head in her hands. She can’t keep looking into their eyes, seeing what she’s about to lose. Mateo sits down beside her, the couch bouncing with his weight. He wraps his left arm around Y/N, pulling her into his side. “You’re going to show those pompous, overprivileged peacocks in the Capitol what a real winner is,” there’s no amusement in his eyes but a steeling determination for her.
Y/N looks up at him, a half-hearted scoff escaping her lips. “I’m serious,” he presses, squeezing her shoulders. “If anyone is going to make it through that arena in 12, it’s going to be you. You’re smart—one of the top graduates in our class. How many times have you given the Peacekeepers the slip on days they actually cared to catch people? You’re going to be fine.”
As much as Mateo and Y/N give each other crap, their bond was sibling-like. His support and statement almost enough to make her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could survive this. But the doubt creeps back in, how many tributes thought they were going survive and come home but didn’t? Shoving the doubt back down, Y/N’s tears have dried a bit, a new steel of confidence building in her eyes as Y/N racks her brain for a plan to get home.
A new knock broke the silence. The door creaked open, and in walked three of Y/N’s closest friends: Eden, Caden, and Yugi.
Eden was one of the brightest lights in Y/N’s life, always ready with a word of encouragement when everything seemed impossible. Normally, her long, wavy blond hair fell in waves like sunlight, but her hair seemed to fall flat today, it seemed to hold an emotion of its own. Her round brown eyes that usually sparkled with unshakable positivity, were dim, devoid of their usual hope. Eden’s posture was sagged, the weight of the day having stolen her light.
Beside Eden, Caden stood—her usual dry humor tempered seemingly forgotten as its been replaced with something Y/N rarely saw in her: raw vulnerability. Caden had been Y/N’s number one supporter. The girl was District 12’s number one hater, always stepping in with a joke or a snarky comment when Eden or Minghao started getting too optimistic. But today, her sharp face usually upturned in some sort of ‘I know something you don't’ expresion, was replaced by tears she couldn’t hold back. Y/N observed her friend's stature—Caden had always hidden behind her long hair, but not today. Caden’s hair was cropped short, a result of a lost bet with one of her own siblings the week prior to the Reaping. She regretted cutting it, Y/N could tell. She could have hidden her tears, at least.
Yugi stood beside Caden. Yugi’s hair was a vibrant orange, a DIY job gone right despite the odds—still messy, but somehow it worked. She had always been the loudest of the group, never afraid to speak her mind, to push everyone forward when they wanted to stand still. Her face was tight with sorrow, a sharp contrast to her usual fire.
The three of them stepped forward in unison, embracing Y/N. The pressure of their hug brought a laugh out of Y/N—a small, weak thing that barely touched her lips. A melancholy moment, she thought, as they all clung to her like a life raft in a storm.
“Alright, alright,” Caden broke the silence with a dry laugh. “Let’s not get all emotional now, huh? We’re still here. You’re still here. And we’re not gonna let them take you that easily.” She pulled back, but her hands remained on Y/N’s shoulders, her eyes puffy from the tears. “Promise me—they’re gonna have to pry you out of the arena if they even try to take you.”
“I’ll do my best,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. But she meant it. She had to.
“Good,” Caden nodded, her lips twitching like she wanted to crack a joke, but couldn't quite manage it.
“I know things seem insane right now,” Eden’s soft voice broke through the moment. She met Y/N’s eyes, her face still gentle but lined with worry. “But listen to me. You’ve got this. You’ve got more strength than you realize. I know it might not feel like it now, but... you’ll show them, Y/N. You’ve got this, You’ll make it.” her voice cracking at the end of her sentence.
Y/N gave her close friend the best half-smile she could muster. Eden was always the one who had a way of making everything sound possible. It was comforting. Y/N nodded, silently appreciating the gesture.
“I know people are saying it’s impossible,” Yugi spoke up, her voice unwavering. “But who cares what they say, right?” She stepped back, her fiery gaze locking on Y/N’s, and her expression was all fierce determination. “You’ve got more grit in your pinky finger than most of these people have in their whole bodies. They’re gonna have no idea what hit ‘em. You’re gonna show them what District 12 is made of.” Yugi paused, her voice softening just a little. “We believe in you, Y/N.”
Y/N's throat tightened. There it was again—that tiny spark of hope they all tried to light for her. She could feel it now, the warmth in the room, the strength of her friends' belief in her. The love of not just her friends but her family. It was so hard to hold onto, but she didn’t want to let it go. Not now. Not when it might be the only thing keeping her from completely losing herself.
The knock on the door breaks the moment. It creaks open slowkey, breaking the pregnant silence that had begun to take over the room. Y/N’s heart skips a beat as Minghao walks into the room with his parents, their faces drawn with pained grief. Y/N stands, meeting him halfway. Their arms wrap around each other instantaneously. The two young adults grapple onto each other, finding comfort in each other's embrace. Mr. Xu pats Y/N;s head as Mrs. Xu rubs her back. Y/N buries her head further into Minghao’s neck, inhaling his scent—woody, warm, and with a touch of jasmine. It fills her senses, grounding her for a moment. Its something only Minghao could do for her.
“Shhh, Shhh. You’re okay,” Minghao whispers softly into her ear, his face pressing against the side of her head, his nose turned into her own hair. Minghao pulls back, running his hands up and down her arms as he tries to make eye contact, but Y/N keeps her head low, avoiding his gaze. Mrs. Xu reaches her hand up between them and wipes away the tears from Y/N’s face.
Y/N shyly looks at Mrs. Xu. “You’re going to captivate them all.”
Y/N’s eyes flick to Minghao, who nods. “You’re charming. You can get sponsors,” his voice steady and firm.
Sponsors, Y/N thinks. It could be one way to ensure a longer survival in the arena. Y/N sucks in her cheeks, chewing anxiously at them.
“You’re strong,” Mr. Xu adds, his eyes are warm amid their sadness, “We all believe in you.”
Y/N’s eyes scan the room, landing on her family then her friends. Their sorrowful eyes glimmer with a small sense of hope. It’s easy to get caught up in.
Another knock is heard at the door.
“Fifteen minutes,” the Peacekeeper calls, cold and impersonal,through the door.
Y/N inhales sharply, trembling with anxiety as her chest begins to tighten again. “Can I... can I have a few minutes alone with Minghao?” she stutters. To her surprise, not one snarky remark is heard from her cousins—there goes the chance for a mood lifter.
“Of course, let’s give them a minute,” Aunt Sophia instructs, ushering everyone toward the door. Before leaving, Y/N’s mother pulls her into one last hug and leaves a kiss on her forehead before following the others out. “I love you. Stay strong,” she says.
The door clicks shut behind them, leaving Y/N and Minghao alone.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Y/N says, squeezing her eyes shut. “The arena does things to people. I won’t come back the same.”
“You’re going to do what you have to do to survive, to come back to us. That’s understandable. I’ll always love you, no matter what.” Minghao’s gaze pierces her soul with its intensity, his voice steady besides the slight tremble to it, one that Y/N isn’t sure she’s ready to face.
“You can’t watch. I don’t want you to watch,” Y/N says seriously. “I don’t want to fight about this.” Her voice starts to crack. “I just… I don’t know what I’ll have to do, or what I may turn into, but I don’t want you to see the worst of me.”
Minghao gently moves a piece of Y/N’s hair behind her ear. “If you wish for me not to watch, I can respect that. The second you’re in the arena, I’ll turn off the broadcasts. I won’t even listen. But I need you to know I will love you no matter what. No matter how you come back. No matter what you do. And no matter what anyone says about you.”
Minghao’s hands cup the sides of Y/N’s face as he pulls her in for a kiss. His plush soft lips press against hers, all his love and yearning pouring into it, all the things they have to leave unsaid. Tears form in both of their eyes.
Minghao pulls back and smiles softly. “I got you something.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” Y/N says, her voice cracking, as the first real big smile from the last almost hour stretches across her face.
Minghao pulls out a necklace with a pendant. Inside the glass is a blue flower, a smaller version than the one he gifted her earlier. The flower looks a smooth blue aster but with a deep, rich blue hue.
“It’s District 12’s representative flower,” Minghao says. “It’s supposed to represent faith, love, and trust. But for our district, it stands for hard work and resilience. My father started planting them a few years ago, and I remember how much you loved them when I first brought you over. I had the blacksmith at the Hob put it together.”
Y/N rubs her thumb over the smooth glass. “It’s beautiful.”
Minghao smiles softly. “Turn around.”
Y/N turns, and Minghao sweeps her hair over her shoulder, bringing the delicate chain around her neck. “You shouldn’t have a problem bringing it into the arena. Tributes are allowed a token from their district.”
Minghao lets go of the chain as the clasp closes on the necklace around her neck. Y/N turns to face him. “Thank you.”
“It was supposed to be a gift to celebrate our freedom from the Reaping and our moving to the next step in our life,” Minghao explains, his eyes turning red from the tears he’s keeping at bay.
“It’s beautiful,” Y/N repeats, her voice thick with emotion. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. Minghao leans in, kissing the corner of her left eye, then her right, before pressing a final kiss on her lips and resting his forehead against hers.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you more,” Y/N replies.
Y/N lets out a shaky laugh at his stubbornness.
“Time to go,” the Peacekeeper barges in and reaches for Y/N’s arm again, but Minghao pulls her back.
“She can walk herself,” he says sternly, his eyes softening as he looks at Y/N. “You’ll be okay.”
Y/N can now see the tears he’s been holding back. “I love you,” he says quietly.
Y/N walks out the door, the Peacekeeper following behind her. She looks back at Minghao, who stands still, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his tears. She mouths, “I love you.”
Minghao does his best to smile, but Y/N can see the cracks in his facade. As she walks down the hall, he collapses, squatting down and crying into his arms that lay crossed over his knees.
As Y/N walks forward, the sharp clicking of Effie’s heels echoes closer and closer as she walks up towards the hall catching up beside Y/N and the Peacekeeper. “Lovely! Now we can get a move on. I assume the farewells were in good order?” she says cheerfully, her voice a stark contrast to the heavy air around them.
Y/N glances at Effie, her gaze lingering on the woman’s perfectly styled appearance. Up close, the facade of brightness seemed almost forced, but the girl new it was genuine. The gleaming stupor those in the Capital lived in, oh how their lives differed. As Y/N looked at Effie she noticed the cracks in her polished exterior, the makeup Effie wore was thick and caked on, the difference between her and a porcelain doll was the doll’s shiny epoxy.
“Yeah,” Y/N replies with lackluster.
Before Effie can push for a more enthusiastic response, a disruption echoes from the room Jaehyun had been placed in. Y/N freezes, her heart tightening as she watches the boy. He’s being dragged out, kicking and screaming as two Peacekeepers struggle to keep a hold on him. A third Peacekeeper stands by, ready to grab Jaehyun's legs. THe boys tear-streaked face is full of raw, unrestrained panic.
“No!” Jaehyun cries out, his voice breaking as his eyes desperately tries to reach for his parents, who are fading from view the further they manage to pull him away and towards Effie and Y/N.
The third Peacekeeper slams the door shut, cutting off Jaehyun from his parents. The sound of the door clicking closed echoes in the hallway, leaving only the sounds of Jaehyun’s sobs.
“Oh boy, what bad manners,” Effie comments casually, a look of irritation on her face as if the scene before them were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “So sad. Well, we'll have to work on that,” she exasperates.
Y/N glares at Effie, disgust washing over her. How could this woman stand there, so detached, as if the agony of a child being torn from his parents was nothing more than a mere inconvenience? Y/N clenches her fists at her sides.
"Well, come along now. We’ve got a train to catch," Effie says with a flip of her hand, turning sharply and striding ahead.
Y/N’s is pushed forward by one of the Peacekeepers, who gives her a rough shove, urging her to move quicker.
Effie gives a half attempt to glance back as she calls over her shoulder, her voice almost sing-song as she addresses Jaehyun, still struggling in the Peacekeepers’ grip. “I’d stop with the crying and flailing if I were you. Otherwise, we’ll have to sedate you, and I’d rather you enjoy our lovely ride to the Capitol. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
Effie's words hang in the air, hearing this Jaehyun stops his kicking. The Peacekeepers, unsure of his next move, continue to escort him alongside Y/N, while keeping a steel hold on the boy's arms. That's definitely going to bruise, Y/N thinks to herself.
Y/N looks at him, her heart breaking as she watches the boy’s features harden. His doe eyes brimming with tears that spill over are filled by a simmering anger,As they continue towards the train platform, the Justice Building doors swing open, revealing the cold, imposing locomotive waiting for them. Jaehyun continues to silently cry, as they march in silence towards their inevitable fate.
Authors note: Thank you again for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know you're thoughts!
