The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter Twenty Seven

District 12

A din erupted from the dojo, loudly cutting through the evening light. Moka was hard at work in her training, pummeling the old wooden oak of the dojo. She punched at the bark, working hard on he speed and agility punches. Kazuma Sohma stood at the edge of the dojo, watching her carefully. He stepped forward into her practice for what felt like the seventh time that day.

“You are putting too much work towards breaking the Iron Oak,” said Kazuma. “This exercise was not meant to help you speed up your actions. It is not just about speed, Moka, it is about precision.” he told her. “Quality over quantity. A million punched in random places won't help you defeat your opponent, but one good strike in his weak spot might be enough to finish him for good.” She sighed, straightening up and shifting her weight onto one leg arrogantly.

“I disagree. Strength is what determines the end of battle,” argued Moka stubbornly. “Why I can't just work on my muscles instead of my agility!”

“Moka,” said Kazuma weakly. She frowned at him unhappily. “As much as I respect you, Master, I don't see the point of this exercise,” she said calmly.

“Moka, this is training for the Games. I train kids that have a chance to win the Games in order to protect the ones that don't. I have to have your practices under the radar. This is not just because I am breaking the law, but also because you are a vampire. You need a way to discreetly release your excess energy and power without harming others,” explained Kazuma. “The children in the Career Districts will have over a decade of experience, Moka. Even as a vampire, they will be even stronger and faster than you are presently, Moka, unless you practice!”

Moka shrugged, fixing a bloody red eye on her sensei.

“What's the point in practicing today anyways?” she asked him lowly. “The Reaping is in a few hours. If I go in this year, it will be too late to train.

Kazuma suddenly noticed the redness in her eyes and the puffy qualities they had. He took a step forward towards her, but she turned away from him in an attempt to hide her face from him.

“Moka,” he murmured gently. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, Master. It is none of your concern,” she told him. However, she was still refusing to look him in the eye.

“It is a very big concern of mine if one of my disciples is in pain,” he insisted kindly. “Please tell me what is on your mind.”

Moka bit her lip nervously. Kazuma stood there calmly as he waited for her inevitable response to his request.

“I had a dream,” she said finally. Kazuma pursed his lips in worry.

“That is very troubling. Vampires do not dream unless it is prophetic, correct?” he said. She nodded.

“I had a dream of Tsukune,” she said softly. Kazuma's eyes widened.

“What did he say?” he asked her solemnly. Moka shook her head at him.

“He didn't say anything,” said Moka calmly. She closed her eyes against the sorrow that suddenly overcame her. “He started crying though...and he waved to me. It felt like...it almost felt like the goodbye that that he never got to tell me before the Peacekeepers tossed him into another district.”

“Did you say anything to him?” he asked her. Moka shook her head at him again. He sighed, reached his hand out, withdrew it, and then put it on her head gently before he lost his nerve at the situation's awkwardness.

“It will get better, Moka,” promised Kazuma kindly. Moka turned from him. “It didn't for you,” she said softly. Kazuma dropped his hand, a shadow crossing his face.