ship/character: sugawara fandom: haikyuu!! major tags: character death and violence other tags: specific tags omitted, but it's thg canon typical violence word count: 1.515 remix permission: granted
forgive me for thg inaccuracies, it's been years since i read that :’) and for leaving kiyoko out too, but i couldn't bring myself to make her suga's enemy
***
Survival was not only a matter of muscle mass and weapon wielding ability.
Koushi knew that much.
The fact seemed to escape Asahi as he sobbed loudly and even level-headed Daichi seemed to be bracing himself for their last hug. His friend's hands trembled slightly as he moved to wrap them around Koushi. His good luck sounded hollow and Koushi stayed silent.
Every possible response seemed even more hollow. Don't worry was laughable, I'll be fine would be a lie no matter the outcome.
“I'm not going to go down easy,” he settled for in the end. That much was at least true. He was only half-faking the reassuring sly grin he sent his friends.
i.
He crafted a lot of plans, played out tons of scenarios and came up with many strategies only for them to disappear within second from the the sound of the cannon. In the bloodbath that followed the only thought on Koushi’s mind was
out, out, out.
He didn't register the mauled bodies of teenagers he's met before until he made it past the tree lane. Against his better judgement, he glanced back.
The meadow was still green, the leaves on trees were all in their places and it seemed so wrong for them to remain the same in the face of horrifying scene that played out here a minute ago.
With a heavy feeling in his stomach he closed his eyes and turned away. He didn't manage to get far before he found himself on all fours on the ground, having tripped over something.
It was someone’s leg and Koushi sprang right back up, readying himself for a fight or flight, but the leg didn't move and the owner continued to lay motionlessly in the dirt. Only then did he notice an arrow sticking out from the back of his neck, blood still wet and bright red.
Koushi recognised the boy as the tribute from District 1. He was younger than him, and yet one of the favourites of the games, more because of his name and origins than anything else.
His name was Kenjirou, but it wasn't what he was known for. Seeing him people associated him with his brother - the winner of the previous games, whose raw power and ruthlessness earned him a flattering moniker Invincible Wakatoshi. Koushi remembered watching the recording of District 1’s Reaping, he remembered two middle aged people clapping with proud smiles on their faces, the boy's clenched teeth and his brother's stony face, that didn't share the joy of their parents.
Koushi had been told numerous times that tributes from the first districts are killing machines, trained from infancy to win the Hunger Games, but Kenjirou was wholly human.
Koushi moved towards him, closed his empty eyes, took the few belongings he had managed to gather and disappeared between the trees without looking back.
ii.
Tooru held himself like he was a god and on the Arena he was probably as close to being one as possible.
He was the only volunteer this year, he had stepped out with his head held high, looking down on the younger candidate he had replaced, and he came fully prepared to take both the Capitol and the other tributes by storm. He knew how to play the game and each calculated wink, giggle and hair flip had earned him another sponsor and set of expensive gifts. Koushi had seen him looking at overfamiliar Capitol residents, thanking them for sparkling blue suits and smiling with a barely concealed fury. He used to lean to whisper in his sponsors’ ears and Koushi couldn't tell whether his words were sweet nothings or threats.
He built himself a castle at the Cornucopia and ruled over it as the sole king of the Arena, killing everyone who hoped to hide behind him and get a clear shot on his back.
He sank knives into people with frightening precision and it was only a miracle when the blade only grazed Koushi. Tooru thought on his feet though and the knife barely had time to miss its target when he lunged forward and pressed Koushi down to the ground. He pulled the dirtied knife out from the soil and smiled.
“It's mercy,” he said. “Even in this place you can see something beautiful for the last time.”
Koushi wasn't interested in last times just yet, beautiful or otherwise, so he used Tooru’s moment of distraction to kick his knee and the other tribute fell on his chest with a grunt.
Tooru, with his combat skills, was the first to stand up.
No trace of smile was left on his handsome features and Koushi for the first time ever was reminded of an angered deity. He grabbed a branch from the ground and in a desperate attempt at self defence he threw it like a spear at his enemy's head.
Tooru easily sidestepped the flying object and he was about to throw a mocking comment at his opponent laying in front of him, but laughter died in his throat when he placed his foot poorly and felt himself slip on the wet leaves that littered the forest.
Koushi watched as Tooru waved his hands, trying to grasp something, anything, in the air, as the gravity got the best of him and he fell down, hitting his head on a rock sticking out from the ground with a sickening crack.
In the deafening silence that followed Koushi kept watching, but he didn't get up again.
Tooru held himself like he was a god, but his blood was as red as anyone else's.
iii.
For all his bravado, Koushi didn't expect to survive this long. There were only two people left in the Arena and he wished, from the bottom of his heart, that starvation or wild animals or literally anything else would kill Kenma, before they got to confront each other.
He felt bad about misjudging the other tribute, who seemed frail and didn't handle athletic activities well, especially since people often judged him for the same thing. Kenma seemed to have a similar tactic to him - don't put yourself unnecessarily in danger and stay out of direct fights, brains not force. Except he seemed to be better than Koushi. He wasn't sighted in the Arena beyond the mayhem at the Cornucopia judging by all the conversations Koushi’s eavesdropped.
Koushi knew how it all worked, the Hunger Games couldn't become an endurance battle and sooner or later the staff would start sending disasters to them to guide them towards each other. Not wanting to be the one to be caught by surprise by mutts he headed towards the centre and sat on top of Tooru’s fallen kingdom,waiting for the upcoming confrontation.
The media compared Kenma to a cat and if they played the same game then Koushi just had to be a lion.
He didn't have to wait long before he heard the sounds of someone tearing through the forest approaching and saw a black cloud grimly looming over the trees. The boy emerged and fell on the grass once he was out of the clouds range, looking distraught but more or less in one piece. Koushi’s eyes widened as he took in the whole flora that was touched by the rain browning and withering. Not normal rain then.
In his struggle to get away Kenma didn't notice the second survivor waiting for him. His breath slowed down, but it was still raspy. Koushi saw his unnaturally reddened skin and his dirty blond hair fell out in streaks whenever he moved his head. The boy wouldn't live for long without Capitol’s miraculous medicine anyway and Koushi had half a mind to just leave him to his own devices and let him wither slowly, without having to touch him. He didn't pose a danger anymore.
The thought was discarded when Kenma finally spotted him. He probably knew better than anyone that his survival relied on finishing it quickly and judging by the look in his eyes he didn't give up just yet. He had a slingshot stripped to his belt and he whipped it out with a remarkable for his condition speed.
Koushi dodged the small rock and jumped down from the Cornucopia, landing perfectly on the grass, a bow in his hand. He felt like a predator, approaching his injured, shivering victim and going for a kill. He lifted the weapon, put on an arrow and aimed for the throat, the reduced distance making his job easier.
He released the arrow. It only grazed Kenma’s neck. The boy lifted his hand to the wound. It fell back down completely stained red. Koushi aimed again.
This time the arrow met its target and Koushi released the breath he didn't notice he was holding. The bow fell to the ground and he closed his eyes, no longer hearing its thud or the cannon that announced Kenma’s death.
He lifted his fists up to the sky. He was the champion.
He opened his eyes again and he couldn't recognise the hand he saw in the air.
FILL: team reelfriendship, M
fandom: haikyuu!!
major tags: character death and violence
other tags: specific tags omitted, but it's thg canon typical violence
word count: 1.515
remix permission: granted
forgive me for thg inaccuracies, it's been years since i read that :’) and for leaving kiyoko out too, but i couldn't bring myself to make her suga's enemy
***
Survival was not only a matter of muscle mass and weapon wielding ability.
Koushi knew that much.
The fact seemed to escape Asahi as he sobbed loudly and even level-headed Daichi seemed to be bracing himself for their last hug. His friend's hands trembled slightly as he moved to wrap them around Koushi. His good luck sounded hollow and Koushi stayed silent.
Every possible response seemed even more hollow. Don't worry was laughable, I'll be fine would be a lie no matter the outcome.
“I'm not going to go down easy,” he settled for in the end. That much was at least true. He was only half-faking the reassuring sly grin he sent his friends.
i.
He crafted a lot of plans, played out tons of scenarios and came up with many strategies only for them to disappear within second from the the sound of the cannon. In the bloodbath that followed the only thought on Koushi’s mind was
out, out, out.
He didn't register the mauled bodies of teenagers he's met before until he made it past the tree lane. Against his better judgement, he glanced back.
The meadow was still green, the leaves on trees were all in their places and it seemed so wrong for them to remain the same in the face of horrifying scene that played out here a minute ago.
With a heavy feeling in his stomach he closed his eyes and turned away. He didn't manage to get far before he found himself on all fours on the ground, having tripped over something.
It was someone’s leg and Koushi sprang right back up, readying himself for a fight or flight, but the leg didn't move and the owner continued to lay motionlessly in the dirt. Only then did he notice an arrow sticking out from the back of his neck, blood still wet and bright red.
Koushi recognised the boy as the tribute from District 1. He was younger than him, and yet one of the favourites of the games, more because of his name and origins than anything else.
His name was Kenjirou, but it wasn't what he was known for. Seeing him people associated him with his brother - the winner of the previous games, whose raw power and ruthlessness earned him a flattering moniker Invincible Wakatoshi. Koushi remembered watching the recording of District 1’s Reaping, he remembered two middle aged people clapping with proud smiles on their faces, the boy's clenched teeth and his brother's stony face, that didn't share the joy of their parents.
Koushi had been told numerous times that tributes from the first districts are killing machines, trained from infancy to win the Hunger Games, but Kenjirou was wholly human.
Koushi moved towards him, closed his empty eyes, took the few belongings he had managed to gather and disappeared between the trees without looking back.
ii.
Tooru held himself like he was a god and on the Arena he was probably as close to being one as possible.
He was the only volunteer this year, he had stepped out with his head held high, looking down on the younger candidate he had replaced, and he came fully prepared to take both the Capitol and the other tributes by storm. He knew how to play the game and each calculated wink, giggle and hair flip had earned him another sponsor and set of expensive gifts. Koushi had seen him looking at overfamiliar Capitol residents, thanking them for sparkling blue suits and smiling with a barely concealed fury. He used to lean to whisper in his sponsors’ ears and Koushi couldn't tell whether his words were sweet nothings or threats.
He built himself a castle at the Cornucopia and ruled over it as the sole king of the Arena, killing everyone who hoped to hide behind him and get a clear shot on his back.
He sank knives into people with frightening precision and it was only a miracle when the blade only grazed Koushi. Tooru thought on his feet though and the knife barely had time to miss its target when he lunged forward and pressed Koushi down to the ground. He pulled the dirtied knife out from the soil and smiled.
“It's mercy,” he said. “Even in this place you can see something beautiful for the last time.”
Koushi wasn't interested in last times just yet, beautiful or otherwise, so he used Tooru’s moment of distraction to kick his knee and the other tribute fell on his chest with a grunt.
Tooru, with his combat skills, was the first to stand up.
No trace of smile was left on his handsome features and Koushi for the first time ever was reminded of an angered deity. He grabbed a branch from the ground and in a desperate attempt at self defence he threw it like a spear at his enemy's head.
Tooru easily sidestepped the flying object and he was about to throw a mocking comment at his opponent laying in front of him, but laughter died in his throat when he placed his foot poorly and felt himself slip on the wet leaves that littered the forest.
Koushi watched as Tooru waved his hands, trying to grasp something, anything, in the air, as the gravity got the best of him and he fell down, hitting his head on a rock sticking out from the ground with a sickening crack.
In the deafening silence that followed Koushi kept watching, but he didn't get up again.
Tooru held himself like he was a god, but his blood was as red as anyone else's.
iii.
For all his bravado, Koushi didn't expect to survive this long. There were only two people left in the Arena and he wished, from the bottom of his heart, that starvation or wild animals or literally anything else would kill Kenma, before they got to confront each other.
He felt bad about misjudging the other tribute, who seemed frail and didn't handle athletic activities well, especially since people often judged him for the same thing. Kenma seemed to have a similar tactic to him - don't put yourself unnecessarily in danger and stay out of direct fights, brains not force. Except he seemed to be better than Koushi. He wasn't sighted in the Arena beyond the mayhem at the Cornucopia judging by all the conversations Koushi’s eavesdropped.
Koushi knew how it all worked, the Hunger Games couldn't become an endurance battle and sooner or later the staff would start sending disasters to them to guide them towards each other. Not wanting to be the one to be caught by surprise by mutts he headed towards the centre and sat on top of Tooru’s fallen kingdom,waiting for the upcoming confrontation.
The media compared Kenma to a cat and if they played the same game then Koushi just had to be a lion.
He didn't have to wait long before he heard the sounds of someone tearing through the forest approaching and saw a black cloud grimly looming over the trees. The boy emerged and fell on the grass once he was out of the clouds range, looking distraught but more or less in one piece. Koushi’s eyes widened as he took in the whole flora that was touched by the rain browning and withering. Not normal rain then.
In his struggle to get away Kenma didn't notice the second survivor waiting for him. His breath slowed down, but it was still raspy. Koushi saw his unnaturally reddened skin and his dirty blond hair fell out in streaks whenever he moved his head. The boy wouldn't live for long without Capitol’s miraculous medicine anyway and Koushi had half a mind to just leave him to his own devices and let him wither slowly, without having to touch him. He didn't pose a danger anymore.
The thought was discarded when Kenma finally spotted him. He probably knew better than anyone that his survival relied on finishing it quickly and judging by the look in his eyes he didn't give up just yet. He had a slingshot stripped to his belt and he whipped it out with a remarkable for his condition speed.
Koushi dodged the small rock and jumped down from the Cornucopia, landing perfectly on the grass, a bow in his hand. He felt like a predator, approaching his injured, shivering victim and going for a kill. He lifted the weapon, put on an arrow and aimed for the throat, the reduced distance making his job easier.
He released the arrow. It only grazed Kenma’s neck. The boy lifted his hand to the wound. It fell back down completely stained red. Koushi aimed again.
This time the arrow met its target and Koushi released the breath he didn't notice he was holding. The bow fell to the ground and he closed his eyes, no longer hearing its thud or the cannon that announced Kenma’s death.
He lifted his fists up to the sky. He was the champion.
He opened his eyes again and he couldn't recognise the hand he saw in the air.