The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter Five

District Four

District 4 was a largely populated district, even more so than any other district in Panem. Why is that? Fishing takes a lot of work. They had to supply fish to the entire country of Panem, which also included the Capitol. Their harbors smelled of salt and fish. Their houses were dotted with mold and mildew from the moist atmosphere. Every child in the town knew how to fish and swim, and sometimes, they knew how to build ships. District 4 was a powerful district, as the children were raised to know how to lift heavy loads and to pull up even heavier fish. This district was also one of the few that allowed citizens weapons. Clubs and tridents were a necessity to catching fish. Did that mean that there was more rebellion in District 4 than any other district? Absolutely not. The Capitol was even stricter on districts like District 4—given the means to rebel. They had weapons and strength, but the Capitol had bombs. District 4 was a district that depended heavily on its citizens' teamwork. One person could not pull in a haul big enough to feed their family if all ships went in the water at the same time. But since the citizens work together to catching fish, and building the ships that do that, every citizen had a place and a job. That's how District 4 people were raised. If a bomb was pulled on them, what would happen to that teamwork? It would die, along with the comrades of the district—the ones keeping everything together. Not only would the district be eliminated, so would its culture, its beliefs, and its honor.

“Robin! Hey!” called Ichigo Kurosaki loudly. A girl passing by stopped her walking and turned to look at him. Ichigo gestured her over to his spot on the pier. Ichigo's flaming red hair glinted in the sunlight. It flashed off his signature black kimono, his symbol of involvement in the Hunting Pack. A sword hung at his belt on his left. He grinned at her, holding up a bottle of red liquid. Robin joined him over on the edge of the pier, sitting down next to him and letting her legs hang off the edge of the wooden platform. Robin had shimmering black hair, cropped to her shoulders. Her intelligent eyes flashed with wisdom beyond her years, and her outfits clung tight to her bodice. Eighteen and mysterious, Robin was Ichigo's childhood friend. Unlike most guys, however, Ichigo only saw her as a friend. He didn't throw himself at her, and he most certainly didn't attempt to. She accepted that, and was grateful for his friendship. He offered her the bottle, and she shook her head at him.

“I don't drink. Sorry, Ichigo,” she told him, her voice rolling in a refined tone. He grinned at her.

“It's not booze, Robin. It's just red soda,” he promised her. She gave him a look, and he shrugged.

“If I look drunk, the Peacekeepers don't yell at me,” he explained to her. She looked at him intelligently.

“Your break was over five minutes ago. If you don't get back in the boat, the captain is going to have another fit,” she told him. He groaned, standing up. He tossed his bottle in the trash as he passed, not even bothering to put the cap back on it. The soda spilled into the bin and made it look like the bin was filled with blood.

“Let the old man complain—I just don't feel like working today,” he told her. Robin gave him a hard look.

“This time, he needs you to talk to a soul,” she explained to him. Ichigo stopped in his tracks and turned back to her.

“Why?” he asked her.

“The man was a Peacekeeper. Captain Sparrow at least wants you to figure out why the man was killed,” said Robin. Ichigo sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“What's in it for me?” he asked her. She gave him a small smile.

“Three days off from fishing?” she offered him. Ichigo grinned at her.

“Deal,” he told her. His gaze turned serious.

“Old man Sparrow must have some idea of why the man died. What's his hypothesis?” asked Ichigo. Robin sighed, and then looked around to make sure no one was listening. She leaned in towards him.

“He thinks that the man was victim of a rebellion,” she murmured to him quietly. He looked at her like she was stupid.

“Rebellion isn't possible. The Peacekeepers outnumber us in power and in numbers. Besides, the Capitol sees everything. If even one thing is wrong, a district is punished. For a rebellion to break out is impossible,” he said to her.

“Not according to Captain Sparrow. This man's throat was slit and there were definite signs of torture on his skin,” she told him. Ichigo shuddered, and he turned back to Robin.

“He wants me to get information, doesn't he?” he asked her. She nodded at him. She lowered her voice even more, and Ichigo had to struggle to hear every word she said.

“If there's even the slightest bit of rebellion, you know what we have to do,” she whispered to him. He nodded his head a fraction so as not to be seen.

“Enter the Hunger Games. Kill Phantom. Take over Panem.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Is this the body?” asked Ichigo, wrinkling his nose up in disgust.

“Yes, it is,” said Robin, staring at it coldly. Ichigo's eyes averted themselves away from the carcass fit only for carrion.

After floating in the sea, the skin had become bloated. That only made the marks on the man's skin stretch, making them seem larger and more grotesque. It was obvious that he had been cut in numerous places. There were large lacerations imbedded into his stomach. Ichigo could practically see the layer of muscle from what used to be his abs. The man's muscles were haggard, pulling down, and Ichigo could see from the creases the man's shackles had made, they had attached weights to the chains he had donned so that his muscles had constant stress on them, forcing him into constant pain. His hair had been chopped away and yanked out in places, and there were pinch marks up and down his body from pliers. Burns also coated his body, on his cheeks, his shoulders, his inner thighs—and the skin had peeled away from the wounds from the salt water's contact, making the wounds fresh and open, and coated in pus. He also had a message carved into his back from a knife, seared into his flesh from the burning blade. Remember the Games! was written there, a horrible sight indeed.

“What do you make of it, Strawberry?” asked the Captain, his upper lip curled in disgust. Or maybe that was his previous drinks of rum coming back up. Ichigo looked at the man. He had long brown hair and a red bandana. He wore a hat over his dreadlocks and his beard was flourishing amongst his chin and upper lip area. He wore a typical pirating outfit, even though he was no more than a shipbuilding fisherman—a good one at that.

“Well, from the looks of the man, it certainly looks like a couple of rebels tortured him to this extent. My guess is that the blood loss from his chest wound finished him off in the end,” said Ichigo, examining the man up close. He could see the man's eyeballs had rolled back into his head like a zombie. Ichigo swallowed the bile that rose up at the picture. He straightened up, taking a step back to get a good look at the whole body.

“However, seeing the wounds, and the message as well, I would say that an angry Capitol man did this,” said Ichigo. Robin looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“Are you sure you should be making that kind of assumption, Ichigo? You haven't even talked the the man. You don’t even know what he's like,” said Robin worriedly, checking over her shoulder to make sure no sneaky Peacekeeper was listening in on them. Saying anything against the Capitol would result in a public flogging, or worse, depending on the severity of the comment.

“Positive,” said Ichigo. He pointed to one burn in particular.

“Do you see that mark?” asked Ichigo. Everyone of the crew looked at the burn closely. You could barely see it past the puffy skin, but there was a small cartoon flame inscription there with the burn marks.

“That's the mark of Phantom,” said Ichigo coldly. “I'm guessing this Peacekeeper did something wrong and he paid his life for it,” said Ichigo. He looked over his shoulder.

“Am I right?” he asked the floating spectrum. The man's spirit was a beautiful soul, sleek brown hair and glowing eyes, and his Peacekeeper uniform was intact in his soul form.

“Yes...” whispered the man softly. Ichigo turned to him and sat down on the ship's deck.

“Will you tell me about it?” he asked him. The man bit his lip, a single tear running down his face. But slowly, he nodded. The rest of the crew settled down behind Ichigo, waiting for him to repeat the words of the man they could not see, but knew was there.