Genre: Angst, Dystopian

Summary: "The nightmares don't stop, they never will.  You must learn how to cope with it until the bitter end."

Word Count: 6982

Hashtag: #SSBB_NightmaresDontStop

nightmares don't stop

“The nightmares don’t stop, they never will.  You must learn how to cope with it until the bitter end.” 

The warmth of the room is a strange contrast to the chilling words that comes from her mentor, who stares silently out the window, back facing her.  He doesn’t care for the fresh tear stains across her cheeks or the bucket next to her dirtied with clear liquid and stomach vile because of her inability to eat since being admitted to the hospital.  She nervously swallows, clutching onto the white blanket that remains across her torso.

“How did you cope with it?”   

For the first time that day, her mentor turns around, and she sees conviction in his hardened eyes. 

“With a purpose.” 

Chaewon remembers vividly the day she was crown victor of the Hunger Games—a sick, twisted competition that landed a bloody knife in her hand and forced her to kill other teenagers in a desperate attempt at salvaging her own life.  She remembers each face, the way they twisted and contorted in pain, the way they gasped out their last breath, muttering words of anger, contempt, or even praises.  These same words come to haunt her when she thinks she has left them behind. 

She stabs a spoon into the bowl of mint chocolate ice cream, shoveling a spoonful of the frozen green and black dotted mixture into , using the imminent brain freeze to halt any dark thoughts that cloud her mind.  She wonders if she could carry it around as a cure to the words that stick to her like the plague—it’s a much healthier alternative than alcohol which previous winners often fall victim to.

She’s about to swallow a second spoonful before her thoughts could whirl again when a hand stops her.  She scowls, shoving the hand away.  “It’s not alcohol, Eunbi.” 

Kwon Eunbi, the winner of the Hunger Games before hers, is like her very own mentor despite their not-very-large .  She knew her very own pain but could shoulder it without showing any sign of weakness—it was admirable.  A smile is on Eunbi’s face when she sits in front of her, grabbing at some grapes from a fruit platter on the table while disregarding her scowl.  “I’ve seen the tributes for your district.  A brother and a sister.” A slight frown tugs on her lips as she eats each succulent grape one by one.  “I feel sorry for the family because both of their children are involved in… this.”

Chaewon remains silent at first, savouring the taste for just that moment. “Everyone must have been relieved that only one family has to suffer this year.” She ignores the pointed look from Eunbi, cleaning the bowl of any residue of her favourite ice cream.  “Our district doesn’t have kids volunteering themselves like yours, Eunbi.” She could imagine the faces on the other families faces, knowing that their children were spared for another year.

(She saw it too when her name was called up.)

Eunbi sighs, eating another grape.  “Chaewon, you should show some compassion to your tributes. They’re just as nervous as we were when we participated in the games. You’re the winner from last year and their mentor—their hope to come out alive.” She stands up, gently laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. “At least give them that before the end of the week.” 

Chaewon considers Eunbi’s advice with a slow nod, realizing that perhaps she is being too harsh on their circumstance—they didn’t come here willingly, they were brought here, to her, by fate—like how she was brought to this same, high-speed moving train one year ago.

Honda Hitomi and Honda Mitsu 

They are a pair of siblings from a family of five—their older sister having escaped the treacherous lottery before she turned of age which she would not be considered part of it.  They’re small and a bit scrawny—something that wouldn’t survive after the first day in the arena. 

But then again, so was she, and she came out victorious. 

“Have you tried the bread?” Mitsu asks, filling the silence with a question while gesturing vaguely towards the straw basket at the far end of the table.  “It’s nothing like what we have at home.” 

“Mitsu.” Hitomi whispers next to him, gently prodding at his side to make him stop. 

Chaewon watches the siblings very carefully, after their first initial meeting, no words were exchanged, as Chaewon wanted to observe them first before trying to speak.  She isn’t like her mentor or even Eunbi, who can strike a conversation out of thin air—she needs time to adjust to the atmosphere, to the mood.

Her observations are very brief: Mitsu is a mood maker, a bit clumsy yet funny, while Hitomi is the opposite—quiet yet not afraid to reprimand her brother for anything dumb he does or says.  Hitomi reminds her of herself, and she can’t help but think that maybe they do have a chance.  The thoughts are shoved away, she can’t be creating unneeded expectations if everything is so bleak already.

“It never does.  Nothing will ever beat what we can make at home.” Chaewon finally says, taking a bun from the basket and slowly tearing into it.  It’s slightly hard in her hands, most likely left out for at least a day instead of being fresh from the oven like they were used to.  “Your family runs a bakery, right?” 

At the mention of bakery, the Honda siblings’ eyes light up, smiles on their lips.  They eagerly nod.  Chaewon continues, biting into the bun to hide her own smile.  “My Mom buys bread and pastries from there all the time.  She says that nothing that she could make would be as delicious as something from the Honda bakery.”

“Oh!  Your Mom is Ranhee, right? I remember she used to sing at the town square during those monthly gatherings.” Mitsu says, fondness in his tone as his eyes light up. “Hitomi really likes her voice.” He nudges his sister next to him, and Hitomi squeaks, her face flushing and eyes darting away from Chaewon.

This makes Chaewon unexpectantly laugh, “I hear that a lot.  I can give you her autograph one day.” She offers and Hitomi suddenly jolts in her seat, eyes landing on Chaewon.  She seems so happy (so innocent) at the mention of autograph. 

“Really?  D-Do you think she would be able to sing one song?  I really like Slow Journey.” Hitomi’s request makes Chaewon laugh again, and the former catches herself in the middle of her overzealous moment—immediately closing and trying to hide her burning cheeks.  “Sorry, I-I shouldn’t… say things like that… Especially with…” Her hands wave around them—despite the bountiful food, the comfortable seats, and the decorated train cart, they all know the circumstance surrounding them is quite the opposite.

“Sure.” Chaewon says, trying to lift the mood with a small smile, not bothering to hide it this time.  “She loves singing and loves it even more if it will make others happy.”  The bright smile that crosses Hitomi’s face, followed by the snicker and nudge from Mitsu after, to an embarrassed Hitomi etches into Chaewon’s mind, and she slowly starts to believe that maybe this year will be different.

She decides to continue indulging the siblings with stories about her Mother, while they talk about their bakery and how much their Mother and Father put into running it—after all, this would be their last peaceful meal before being thrown into a non-stop week of training and godawful impressions before the real hell begins. 

The chariot ride—the parade—goes as expected: average. 

Chaewon's district is one of the quieter districts, focusing on their farms and production while minding their own business in this rather messed up world of theirs. They weren't rich but weren't poor. However, they weren't flashy, which was important for gaining the attention of awful people that you had to get help from. 

Mitsu was decent in his appearance and somewhat interesting during his brief interview. His innocence and clumsy acts on stage gained the hearts of women who fawn over boys like him. Hitomi, however… 

"Charm?” Hitomi repeats, swallowing her breakfast slowly.

Chaewon watches her while chewing on her own meal, slowly nodding, and waving her fork.  “You need to show more charm.  You need to appeal to the people.” She says, stabbing into the fluff that is her scrambled eggs.  “You need to impress, win their hearts so they can help you when you need it.”

Hitomi sips her drink, taking in Chaewon’s advice silently.

Chaewon soon drops any mention of the parade—Hitomi is a smart girl and most likely, is still beating herself over the failed first impression during the parade without outwardly showing it to Chaewon.  She pushes for a new topic.  “We can work on that up until your full interview. Let’s talk about training.

She explains the training schedule to Hitomi—where her and Mitsu would participate in general training and survival skills with the other tributes in the late morning into the early afternoon.  After, they would be whisked away to private sessions, where they would have to impress game-makers for a stupid score that determines their “odds” of surviving. Before and after these scheduled events, they were free to do whatever they liked as long as they stayed in the capitol.

“Mornings and evenings are the best for our private training.” Chaewon explains, “Our sessions will be in the morning and I will train Mitsu in the evening.”

“We won’t be together?”

Chaewon adverts her eyes, Mitsu’s request coming back to her.

(“I want to train separately from my sister.” Mitsu mutters while they wait for Hitomi to finish taking off the extravagant gown that the stylists spent meticulous hours putting on her.  “I don’t want her to worry about me.”

Chaewon glances at him, arching a brow.  “She’ll worry about you regardless.  That’s the nature of siblings.” She briefly thinks about her own sister, before shaking her head.  “But fine.  What should I tell her?”

Mitsu smiles, comforted by her agreement.  “Just tell her I don’t like waking up early—she’ll completely agree.”)

Hitomi huffs, lowering her drink.  “I always have been the early riser.”

“Is 7 AM too early for you?  I can move it to 8, but then it will take away an hour that we could be using for practice or strategizing.” Chaewon finishes her breakfast, sipping her coffee as she stares at Hitomi.  Hitomi shakes her head.

“It’s fine.  I’m usually up before then.”

“Good, now the next thing we need to address is your skills.” She notices how Hitomi’s eyes glance away at the mention of skills.  She has a hunch that Hitomi is trying not to talk about herself since Chaewon brought to her attention about what she lacks from the parade.  “Is there anything you’re comfortable at using?”

The tribute’s brow scrunches, her fingers gently curving around the teacup.  She’s at a loss, trying to formulate some sort of answer.  Chaewon can’t help but feel like their chances are slipping slowly downward.

“I’ve… scared away coyotes with my Father’s sword?”

Chaewon’s brow furrows, trying to imagine the small brunette wielding a sword that knights used from the olden days.  Of course, wielding a sword was almost impossible in the arena unless they land a very rich sponsor, but she knows a solution to that.

(One that unfortunately, she knows too well.)

“Knives.” She concludes, slowly nodding and glances at Hitomi with a small smile. “We can work with that, but these next few days will be intense.  I need to get you and Mitsu ready so you can both live.”

As long as you can.

Chaewon doesn’t have the heart to voice out the last thought.  It is already predetermined when their names were drawn in the lottery, that only one could possibly make it out alive.  She gestures to the rest of the table, “Finish up breakfast and get ready for your first day of training.  I will see you later.” As she’s about to leave, Hitomi stops her.

“Chaewon!  Um.  Thank you.  Thank you for doing this.”

The words echo in her head, and she wonders why Hitomi is thanking her—thanking her for doing something that she had to do, for doing something to keep her mind away from her past that constantly haunts her, for training her for something that almost no one ever wants to do.

But, like before, she doesn’t have the heart to voice out her thoughts, to ask that why. 

Instead, she smiles.

“You’re welcome.”

The first day of training is challenging for the Honda siblings.  They are clearly outmatched by the tributes who have been training far longer than them and are seen as weak links, which paints a target on their backs for the games.  But what they lack in skill, they make up in determination.  Even after Chaewon insists on taking a break, they continue to push themselves, always saying one more throw or one more round and beg her to show or spar with them again.

She admits, their fiery, determined spirits are contagious and she soaks it in like a sponge.

Chaewon spends one of Hitomi’s training sessions talking about strategies instead of hands-on training like she is used to. “Most tributes will die of starvation or thirst if they don’t secure food or a proper water source.” She explains, tapping the page of an open book. “There might be times I can’t send you one or the other, so you need to know during desperate times what is safe and unsafe to eat.”

Hitomi glances over, staring at the drawn pictures that Chaewon shows her.  “These are plants...”

“Yes.  These are the most popular ones used by the game creators when they make the arena.  You need to be able to recognize them and use them—whether it’s to eat something to keep yourself from dying or to boil them and use their essence as poison to kill your opponents.”

Chaewon bites her lip gently, her eyes narrowing at how comfortable she seems to be talking like that.  She checks on Hitomi, who leans closer into her open book, taking in the details of the drawings.

“I see.  I recognize the patterns they have.  It’s like the bad crops and even the plants we have around our home.” Hitomi explains, her finger making invisible checkmarks against the pages to remember that she knows those ones.  “Poisons are always disguised as edible fruit, but they differ between how fast they act.”

A nod comes from Chaewon, “Exactly. If you know what each one does, you can use it to your advantage.” She closes and slides the book to Hitomi, allowing her to finish reading the rest of it during the little free time she has.  “Now, the last thing we should talk about is your interview.”

The interview—the last chance the tributes have at impressing the spectators and gaining sponsorships that will help them survive in the arena—a chance to tell a story that will capture the hearts of the rich populous who eat the type of entertainment shown to them without any remorse.

Hitomi slowly nods in agreement, slipping the book away. “Right, about my charms.”

Chaewon folds her arms, eyes falling into Hitomi, staring.  To her, Hitomi is on the cuter side, with rounded cheeks but a slim body. She’s quiet and shy, but underneath all of that is a passionate, competitive spirit.  She wonders if it’s possible to use this to their advantage—

“Chaewon? U-Um… is everything okay?”

Realizing she has been staring this entire time, Chaewon’s cheeks burn a faint pink and she immediately waves her hands.  “I-I’m sorry!  I-I uh, didn’t mean to stare.  I was just t-thinking…?  Thinking about your charm points.” She explains, in a quick attempt to clear any misunderstandings. At first, Hitomi is trying to hold back her laugh, but in matters of seconds, an arm wraps around her stomach and her other hand muffles the cackles slipping out.  This makes Chaewon’s face contort in betrayal but eventually her own laugh slips out—her normally calm and composed self broken down.

It takes a couple of deep breaths and an embarrassed apology for them to stop.  Hitomi taps her cheeks gently, a small smile turning at the corner of her lips, as if remembering something good of the past.  “Um, my parents always said that my cheeks contain hopes and dreams.”

Hopes and dreams.

Her heart aches at those words—Hitomi’s parents placed such a future in their daughter and there’s a