There was a ritual in it, Satoru thought - buttoning up the nicest shirt he owned, freshly ironed with the wrinkleless slacks he only ever took out for that day. He brushed his hair out in soothing, repeated motions. Once, twice, thrice; over and over as he breathed deep and slow. He was a metronome, following the tempo of his anxieties, preparing for the day to come. As he slid his round, blacked-out sunglasses on, he couldn't shake the feeling something truly terrible was about to happen. He tried to ignore it, hoping he was wrong - that it was just paranoia. He'd never been wrong before. He knew he wasn't wrong this time. ☆ It was like waking up and feeling like the air had changed. Or how some describe how they know when a family member has passed before someone breaks the news. Suguru felt like his lifeline had been trimmed. Like something beyond decided that today would be his day. The final step. And his actions hadn't helped. Since last year he'd stacked the odds against himself, putting ticket after ticket into the reaping for another bag of grain, another piece of meat. It kept them fed, but the cost was coming. He knew. He just did. ☆ or; alternating pov hunger games au

[ 𝙓𝙞𝙖𝙤/𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ] After two-thousand years, you got to see the light of day once more. Like the civilization of long ago, your memory was lost like dust along the wind. Xiao had been awaiting your arrival without even knowing. When you showed up on his doorstep bright-eyed and ignorant, he was thrown back into a hole of grief and regret. Your journey together was not an easy one. Friends from the past, battles of new and old, you are forced to remember even the things you wish you could put behind you. ࿐ LOWERCASE INTENDED. ࿐ This was written before the 2.7 Perilous Trails event, so excuse any misinformation. ࿐ CONTENT WARNING: language, suggestive content, violence, death, drinking.