Dandelion | ATEEZ Hunger Games!AU

6: To Take What's His

Wooyoung gritted his teeth as he attempted the same move for the 20th time already.

He could feel sweat starting to form on his forehead, his muscles aching. There was a certain burn in his bones that he felt while moving, and although it began to grow unbearable, he didn't let it show. He couldn't let it show. There was no time for him to falter, especially not on his first day of training. It would've not only been a terrible hit to his pride but to securing a safe spot with the sponsors as well. Wooyoung was well aware that their training was monitored by the Gamemakers and trainers, all there to asses the Tribute's skills, strengths and weaknesses. It was of vital essence to perform well, no matter what was the matter with him. At least, that is what his Mentor had told him.

In fact, his Mentor had advised a lot of things. Even before the first day of training had started, she held a hawk's eye on them. The Tribute Parade had gone extremely well, much to their expectations. The public seemed to love the pair of District 1, and it was undeniable that their impact had been strong on the Sponsors as well. Yet, even despite their great triumph that was the Parade, Saera hadn't seemed pleased. Instead of patting them on the back for the incredible performance they delivered, she immediately struck down their momentary glory. All because 'nothing was guaranteed', which in fact, it was. He hated that his Mentor was right. Perhaps even more than he hated the fact that she didn't seem impressed by him during the Parade. But definitely not more than how much he hated the particular move he had been practising ever since training had begun.

Wooyoung huffed as stood idly in front of the red boxing bag. Training had begun a few hours ago, and it had been close to midday already. It started off well, as he had expected it to go. This is what he had been doing ever since a young age; practicing the fine arts of combat and survivaling. It was all he knew back in District 1, frankly. His father had urged him to study it, to perfect it, all because he knew the true glory that came with the Hunger Games. He had seen the many victories that his District held, seen how the Victors themselves would live in eternal glory and riches, and from the moment Wooyoung was born, it was all he worked for. He had been practically set up to become a Tribute, growing up knowing that he'd be in those Games one day and fight to the death to become the next legend. A grim thought, for sure, but it wouldn't matter if he'd come out victorious.

Naturally, he tried every possible station to test out the skills he had been practising his for entire life. Archery went off with a breeze, he could start a fire with his eyes closed and the Gauntlets were simply no challenge for him. Yet, it was the last station that seemed to work strongly against him.

Hand-to-hand combat.

It was utterly ridiculous, he thought. It wasn't exactly that he was practising the real hand-to-hand combat, as he had no opponent to do so, but he didn't want to skip a station just because the other Tributes were either too busy trying to intimidate one another or cower away in the corners of the Training Centre. And so, he took on the fight with a red boxing bag instead. He thought back to the many moves and stances his father taught him. They were all still fresh in his mind, and without even a flaunt, he moved his body ever so gracefully. And yet, there was one that he simply couldn't do. Not even when he was a child. A stain on his pride, that was to be for sure, but he couldn't let it go. He had to prove he was capable, invincible.

And so, for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, he tried again. The Phoenix Strike was something that even after all that time, he had never gotten the hang of it. It came down to a move that involved a powerful spinning strike with the leg, followed by a quick, precise elbow jab. Perfect for both close and mid-range combat. That was, if he knew how to do it. For some reason, the bag always ended up swinging wildly and with him almost ending up on the floor. No matter how many times he tried to do it differently, he just couldn't do it, it seemed. And that irked him immensely. There was nothing Wooyoung couldn't do. And still, the boxing bag that was still ever so moving, seemed to laugh at him as he panted, the pain in his muscles only growing.