The Trials of Neo City [WINWIN • YUTA]

🖤 21. Luminous 🖤

Sicheng scrambled for a weapon before realizing all he had was a bag. He stumbled back as the boy on the tree nearly fell from the branch he'd been sitting on, scrambling to sit right side up.

Sicheng vaguely recognized the kid as one of the youngest tributes, specifically remembering his deep doe eyes.

The boy's soft, bright blonde hair was a stark contrast to what Sicheng was used to. When he'd first seen the boy, his hair was as dark as his large eyes were. Now it was shorter and blonde and slightly curly and somehow made him look even younger and more naive.

The kid's short stature and reluctance to look into Sicheng's eyes reminded him in a way of Renjun. His stomach twisted, thinking about where his brother was and if someone had gotten to him yet. He'd only heard a few cannons, but maybe he lost count somewhere in between.

Sicheng outstretch his hands with wide eyes. He hissed a shushing sound and looked at the boy pleadingly. "Don't scream. I'm not gonna hurt you, please don't yell. Calm down." He whispered frantically to the boy, who quickly shut his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows, now sitting up on the tree branch.

The boy scrambled to the next branch quickly, one that sat above Sicheng and out of his reach. His body shook lightly, trying to become calmer as Sicheng lowered his hands and stepped back.

"What's your name?" Sicheng asked. The boy flinched, holding on tight to the tree branch.

"Mark." The boy's voice was unsure and frightened, shaky with uncertainty. Mark revealed a bag that sat on another branch towards his side, identical to Sicheng's own.

"Mine's Sicheng." Sicheng feigned a smile and placed his hands back at his sides, nodding towards Mark's bag.

"You've got a bag." Mark observed, pointing to the damp bag Sicheng had around his shoulder. Sicheng nodded and pointed at Mark's bag, which wasn't wet, but had bloodstains on the zipper.

"As do you." He smiled. Mark only frowned and threw it down.

"I'm not sharing." He clarified. Sicheng stifled a laugh and shook his head.

"I wouldn't want you to. How'd you get that? You actually went to the Cornucopia?"

Mark's eyes became glassy. "An older kid was trying to take it and one of the Careers shot him with an arrow. Right into his b-back. So I, uh... I took it."

"That's pretty brave of you, kid." Sicheng nodded. Mark visibly relaxed, looking away and at his own jacket, where blood was splattered over the front of it and was beginning to dry.

"I don't want it. The guy who tried to get it first... I know it's not, but I can't help but think it's my fault he's-" Mark trailed off, getting himself upset again.

Sicheng patted Mark's head, sighing. "It's not your fault. He might've killed you if he didn't die first. How old are you? To take on an older tribute, you've got balls."

"Um, I turned fifteen this past summer. In August." Mark clarified, fiddling with his jacket sleeve nervously.

"My brother just turned fourteen. I'm sixteen."

"Cool." Mark nodded, dropping from the tree and landing on the ground with a small grunt. "That's pretty old, compared to like, a lot of us. I think the youngest one said he... had just turned twelve in the winter. Jisung was too nice for this place." Mark murmured, picking at the dead skin on his hand.

Sicheng cocked an eyebrow. He recognized the name as the name of the boy that Yangyang had killed in cold blood.

"Did you see... that?" Sicheng asked, hoping the answer was no. No child should have to see anyone -especially someone their own age- murder another child. It was disgusting.

Mark nodded slowly. "I... I looked away when they hugged. I knew what was coming. Yangyang is pretty determined, he knew what he was doing."

Sicheng swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing what to do. Should he change the subject? Talk about it? Ask Mark if he knew the children?

"They were from the same district. They probably knew each other from school, that couldn't have been easy." Mark continued, as his eyes became glassy. He trembled as he spoke quietly. "This is sickening. Yangyang's a killer now and, oh gosh..."

Sicheng placed a hand on Mark's trembling shoulder. "Hey... there's nothing anyone can do about it now, kid. All we can do is survive."

Mark nodded numbly, still shaking. He took a few breaths and shut his eyes, leaning against the rotting tree.

Sicheng stared forwards for a while, just thinking. At some point he'd joined Mark at the tree, sitting close to its base where the floor hadn't broken through.

Mark stopped trembling and his breathing calmed as he shut his eyes. Sicheng assumed that Mark had felt safe enough to fall asleep here.

A few hours must have passed like this. The sun had shifted in the sky and the beams of light refracted through the shards of window and onto Sicheng's face. If he wasn't hiding and fearing for his life, he might have enjoyed the sun's warmth.

At one point, Mark jolted awake. Sicheng had to remind him softly where he was and what was happening. Mark began shaking again, laughing quietly to himself and trying to calm down.

Every so often they'd hear the hoots and hollers of the older Careers, always chasing someone and laughing about it. But no cannons went off, so Sicheng assumed that this was purely for fun. This was a nothing but a game to them. They enjoyed scaring the other tributes half to death.

The two agreed that they were staying here for a while; if they'd left, the Careers would immediately see. So, for now this was home. This was their territory. They'd sleep in shifts here and decide what to do in the morning.

The sun was going down and the light became golden. Mark smiled, basking in the sunlight before gasping and scuffling towards the tree, nervously chiding himself on something. Sicheng looked on curiously.

Mark then knelt, facing the tree. He glanced at Sicheng and shut his eyes. It was pretty ballsy to let his guard down like this, showing his back to another tribute. But Sicheng only stared in bewilderment as Mark tranced a finger along the rotting wood of the dead tree's trunk.

Sicheng raised an eyebrow. "Kid, what are you doing?"

"Gosh, I almost forgot to pray." Mark's voice was hushed as he began murmuring to himself, speaking to nobody and nothing that was there. He clasped his hands tight and bowed his head, and Sicheng felt awkward only being able to watch him.

Sicheng waited to speak again until Mark had stopped mumbling, the younger boy finally raising his head back up and opening his eyes.

"Why? Why here?" Sicheng asked, confused as to why anyone -religious or not- would let their guard down so much only to pray and mumble to something or someone they couldn't see.

Mark took a moment and shrugged, going back to fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. "I dunno. I think because the most powerful thing in this world is hope." Mark unclasped his hands and smiled weakly. "At least... that's what my mom told me. She said to find hope everywhere.

"But these days, it's hard to find any hope at all."