Blazing: Ninjago Oneshots

Die to Win, or Win to Die? Part I (Kailor AU)

The minute the mayor of my district announces that Capital City is hosting a survival game show for teenagers that has certain risks in exchange for financial support, I just know my father will jump at the opportunity to send me there for a buttload of money.

So I'm not surprised that entering my name is exactly what he does.

"Cheer up, Skylor," he says, giving me an indifferent pat on the back once we return home from the weekly district gathering, "You're great at surviving; daddy will be so proud when you win."

I remain stone-faced as I gobble up my supper, which consists of a small clump of rice because we can't afford anything more, then stalk upstairs and flop onto my bed. It sort of stinks, but that's expected since I can't remember the last time we were able to wash the sheets. Capital City "forgot" to deliver clean water to everyone last month.

And speaking of Capital City, there is no doubt in my mind that hosting this survival game show is a political tactic. The districts have been complaining about the lack of resources for ages, and even rumors of rioting have arisen, which the spies living undercover must've had no trouble hearing since we're not exactly quiet. Now they're providing aid if kids join this dumb reality tv show to entertain the mindless rich citizens as a "see, we are willing to give y'all money, you just have to earn it" moment.

Ugh, whatever, it can't hurt, right? From what I know, they just said it's a survival contest where they're taking one boy and girl from each district, and since there's risk factors involved that they haven't specified, they're going to pay people to participate.

They'll probably have to draw names with the amount of people volunteering. Since there's a lot of people worse off than I am, I figure that the odds are in my favor, and that I have a good chance of not being drawn, so I'm not worried. I have nothing to lose, but I'd rather not be thrust into some game with a bunch of strangers.

Sure enough, by the next day there's news on how the district government has been receiving an overwhelming number of submissions and must resort to random number generators. It's stupid how those rich people created a whole machine just to draw random numbers and yet can't "afford" giving everyone enough to eat. When I was younger, we'd have enough food and water for everyone as long as we rationed, but we've been hungrier and hungrier every year. Smart of them for making it subtle, though.

Either way, my father is going to be so disappointed when my name isn't drawn in two weeks.

...

Every single person in my district is present at the drawing ceremony. The boys in the appropriate age range are clumped into one area while the girls are in the other, and everyone else is standing in another roped-off area. Peacekeepers from Capital City have arrived to patrol and check to make sure there aren't any people hiding away in their homes.

I can also just hear Carina Fisher loudly complaining to her father, asking why she has to attend if her name wasn't entered. She knows she's privileged, since even though her family's wealth pales in comparison to anyone living in Capital City, at least they can afford three full meals a day, a complete fantasy to me even though my father is a farmer.

Rolling my eyes, I allow them to wander around the plaza. There's faint traces of color on the walls of the buildings around it that must've worn away with time. If I squint closely enough, I can almost pick out the cracks in the walls and the peeling outside layer. It's been so long since anyone has done any renovation that my father can't even remember the last time they did so much as to fix up broken boards. By now I've learned that if a building was rotting, nobody was going to do anything about it, so it would just sit there and add to the dilapidated ruins that is our district.