The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter Thirteen

District Twelve

“Omi. It is time to come in now,” said Kazuma Sohma, looking out into the rain. A small child stood in a pool of water, the rain dripping off of his head onto the ground. He had his eyes closed in concentration. His head was surprisingly yellow toned and round like a cheese ball. He wore traditional kung-fu robes of red and black. He looked up at the sky and gave a tremendous roar of fury. When the child finished, he was panting from lack of breath. Kazuma looked upon his performance calmly. He gave the child a smile.

“Have you noticed that it's raining, young monk?” he asked him. Omi turned to look at him coolly. Kazuma stepped out into the rain with him umbrella. With black hair and dark eyes, Kazuma's personality was quiet and calm, and very kind. He was also a bit spacey, as he had an unrivaled love for books. He was also the dojo master that Omi trained at. He stood next to the monk, sharing his umbrella with him calmly.

“What are you doing out here?” asked Kazuma gently. Omi gave a sad sigh, a small frown prickling his face.

“Forgive me for my irresponsibility, Master...I was only mediating,” said Omi quietly. Kazuma smiled at him, not angry with him in the least.

“You can mediate inside, you know,” he informed Omi. Omi nodded at him. Kazuma kneeled down to Omi's level.

“What is bothering you, young monk?” he asked him gently. Omi shook his head, and Kazuma touched his cheek lightly. “One feels better after they have admitted to their troubles to another,” he said. Omi sighed, looking at Kazuma in the eye.

“I am just...afraid, I suppose,” he told him. Kazuma looked at him calmly, listening to him. “Is it...bad to be afraid of the unknown?” asked Omi. Kazuma gave him a smile.

“Omi...once I too was afraid—but not for myself. It is fine if you are afraid for another, Omi. That is not selfish, so it is not a sin,” he told him. Omi looked back up at him.

“But...I am afraid for my self,” admitted Omi. “I am...scared...for the Reaping tomorrow,” said Omi. Kazuma gave him a reassuring smile.

“Is that all it is?” he asked him. Omi narrowed his eyes at his Master.

“That is not such a small worry, Master. I am afraid of what will happen if I am chosen!” said Omi. “I have been lucky these past two years. Others have gone into the Games before me. I am afraid of being chosen. And if I am, what will I do? I have no chance of success against other fighters in the arena—especially the ones that have trained and studied their survival methods since they were born,” he told him.

“You'll be fine, Omi,” said Kazuma, frowning at his nervousness.

“I cannot help but worry, Master. I realize that I am only fourteen. My chances of being forced into the Games grows with every year. Living here in the Seam is hard enough. I do not believe I have what it takes to win the Games and return home to you. I am too young—too inexperienced to even have a hope of winning,” said Omi sadly.

“But you're not giving up, right?!” came a loud voice. Omi looked up and Kazuma turned to glance behind him. Moka Akashiya stood on the deck of the dojo like a regal queen. She is a vampire. She used to have her powers sealed away by a cross rosary on her neck. She then had an alternate personality—a pacifist one that hated to fight had had pink hair. Way back when, the Head Peacekeeper had confiscated her rosary just because she thought it was too pretty for a child of the Seam. Mainly, the Head Peacekeeper wanted it for his Capitol girlfriend. Of course, Moka transformed into her true vampire form. Moka tried fighting, but she wasn't able to get the rosary back through force. She was threatened. They told her that if she tried anything suspicious, they would just kill her beloved Tsukune Aono, living in District 13, living happily while oblivious to what could happen to him if Moka made even the slightest tug towards rebellion.

Moka flipped back her hair arrogantly, the moon light silver strands flying about in the wind. She was certain to stay out of the way of the water, as she was weak around it. Her eyes shone crimson red and practically glowed in the darkness of the late night storm. She smirked at them.

“You humans think that you've got it so bad, don't you?” she asked him. Omi looked up at her with anger, stepping forward threateningly.

“Is that a challenge? I accept it, vampire,” he said to her, crossing his arms at her. She sneered at him cockily.

“Of course not, little boy. I don't fight humans, let alone children,” she told him. He glared at her.

“I am not a child. I am fourteen, despite my lacking height. Fight me, vampire!” he said to her loudly. “Omi, calm down,” said Kazuma, reaching out to touch his shoulder in a restraint. Omi glared at him, shaking off his grip.

“No. Master, I am tired of Moka always acting like she is above our kind—like we are nothing but vermin on the streets,” he told her. She flashed her fangs at him, and Omi faltered a bit. He stood his ground nonetheless. He had picked a fight with a vampire. He would not show any signs of fear towards her. Moka smiled, putting a hand on her hip.

“Relax, kid. I'm not going to touch you. Besides, in all this rain, it wouldn't be a fair fight,” she told him. He gave her a small smile and she grinned.

“People of the Seam have to stick together, right?” she asked him. Omi nodded at her in worry. She gestured for him to come over and she handed him a towel. As soon as his head was dry she patted it reassuringly, giving him a rare, kind smile—one that she pulled from her heart.

“We are children who have starved to death out here, and seen it happen to those around us. We are tougher than those spoiled children in District 1. We have a chance to win the Games than those posers, because we've got enough grit to last through anything. Cheer up, kid,” she told him harshly. Omi nodded, wrapping the towel around his body.

“You are right. I have been foolish. Forgive me, Moka,” he said to her. She smiled. “Always, kid,” she told him. Omi smiled at Kazuma, and then back at Moka.

“Thank you for cheering me up, Master, Moka. I will work hard to train myself for the day my fighting skills may be needed,” he said to them. Omi shook Moka's hand respectfully. As Kazuma watched them with a small smile on his face, Moka noted silently that it was the kind of smile that did not dispel the worry in his eyes.