A Means to an End | Katsuki Bakugou x Male Reader

Chapter 5

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Another force to contend with. Another power player who had decided to use (M/N) as a piece in her games, although things never seemed to go according to plan. First there were the Gamemakers, making him their star and then scrambling to recover from that handful of poisonous berries. Then President Nezu, trying to use (M/N) to put out the flames of rebellion, only for his every move to become inflammatory. Next, the rebels ensnared him in the metal claw that lifted him from the arena, designating him to be their Mockingjay, and then having to recover from the shock that he might not want the wings. And now Kaina, with her fistful of precious nukes and her well-oiled machine of a district, found it was even harder to groom a Mockingjay than to catch one. But she had been the quickest to determine that (M/N) had an agenda of his own and was therefore not to be trusted. She had been the first to publicly brand him as a threat.

(M/N) ran his fingers through the thick layer of bubbles in his tub. Cleaning him up was just a preliminary step to determining his new look. His prep team had to make him look appealing and then damage, burn and scar him in a more attractive way.

The next day said prep team was there and ready to remake him. They didn't talk too much, which was a change of pace, though he couldn't blame them, after what they had been through. The preps did pretty well until they tried to address the spot on (M/N)'s arm where Neito dug out the tracker. None of the medical team was focusing on looks when they patched up the gaping hole. Now he had a large jagged scar that rippled over a space the size of an apple. Usually, his sleeve covered it, but the way Keigo's Mockingjay costume was designed, the sleeves stopped just above the elbow. It was such a concern that Kan and his assistant were called in to discuss it. Just the sight of it triggered his assistant's gag reflex. For someone who worked with a Gamemaker, she was awfully sensitive. But (M/N) guessed she was used to seeing unpleasant things only on a screen.

"Everyone knows I have a scar here," (M/N) said.

"Knowing it and seeing it are two different things," Kan's assistant said. "Kan and I will think of something during lunch."

"It'll be fine," Kan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Maybe an armband or something."

(M/N) got dressed so he could head to the dining hall. His prep team huddled in a little group by the door.

"Are they bringing your food here?" (M/N) asked.

"No. We're supposed to go to a dining hall."

(M/N) sighed inwardly as he imagined walking into the dining hall, trailed by these three. But people always stared at him anyway. This would be more of the same. "I'll show you where it is," (M/N) said. "Come on."

The covert glances and quiet murmurs (M/N) usually evoked were nothing compared to the reaction brought on by the sight of his bizarre-looking prep team. The gaping mouths, the finger pointing, the exclamations. "Just ignore them," (M/N) told his prep team. Eyes downcast, with mechanical movements, they followed him through the line, accepting bowls of greyish fish and okra stew and cups of water.

They took their seats at (M/N)'s table, beside a group from the Seam. They showed a little more restraint than the people from 13 did, although it might have just been from embarrassment.

Shoto, who wasn't usually much of a talker during meals, made an effort to keep a conversation going, asking about the makeover. (M/N) knew it was his attempt at soothing things over. They argued after Shoto suggested (M/N) left Kaina with no choice but to counter his demand for the victors' safety with one of her own.

"(M/N), she's running this district. She can't do it if it seems like she's caving in to your will."

"You mean she can't stand any dissent, even if it's fair," (M/N) countered.