Archive of Our Own ^beta

The next time consciousness visits me, I tried to stay awake. I didn't bother remembering what happened before I closed my lids the last time.

There's only Yeonjun's name burning bright in my head.

I'm still largely unable to move, open my eyes, raise my head. But my arms has regained a little muscle motion, though it still flops across my body like a flipper, no, something less animated... like a cub. I still have no real motor coordination, I can't even feel my fingers but I try to regain as much energy as I can to thrash. I managed to swing my arm around until I rip the tubes out. A beeping goes off but I can't stay awake to find out who will come barging.

The next time I surface, my hands are tied down to a table.

I feel a lot useless, my body rag and weak but I feel a lot of anger course through me as I try to free my wrists. The tubes are back in my arm. I noticed briefly how they doubled.

They're trying hard to keep me alive. The realization brings a new wave of anger. They're trying to keep me alive because if I slide quietly, privately into death, it will be a victory to them.

My breathing is ragged as I look around. I'm in a large room with ceilings and silvery light. There are two rows of bed but they're empty.

Just let me die! I scream in my mind. I slam my head back hard on the table and go out again.

When I finally, truly wake up, the restraints are gone. I try to move my limbs and find that they can move at my command again. I swing my legs over the table, pushing myself to a sitting position. I gripped the table hard as I wait for the world to settle into focus. My arms are bandaged but the tubes dangle off stands by the table.

I try to figure out if I'm in the Capitol, if I'm being held prison as a punishment for my last act of rebellion in the arena when I shot the force field with my arrow.

"Yeonjun..." I whisper.

Panic crawls its way back to my throat.

I've only wanted to protect Yeonjun. I am still resolved to. I don't even know what happened to him after the explosion.

Where is he? I must find him.

I slide my legs off the table. I walk around the room and I barely notice that I'm naked except for the thin nightgown I'm wearing, barefooted as I pace around the room to look for a weapon. There are a few syringes sealed in sterile plastic on a table.

Perfect.

I snatched it. All I need is air and a clear shot at one of the veins of anyone who'll try to stop me.

There are no guards by the door so I creeped down a narrow hallway to a metal door that stands slightly ajar. There are people inside. I grip the syringe between my fingers and flatten myself against the wall. I listen to the voices inside.

"We should've rescued the other boy. He was picked up by the Capitol along with Ryujin and the others but we don't really know who's still alive and not."

I know that voice. It was Lee Hyun's. The gamemaker of this year's annual Hunger Games. What's he doing here? Isn't he a spawn of Capitol too?

"The others kept Yeonjun alive because if he died, there'd be no keeping Soobin in alliance. You know this! Soobin needs Yeonjun alive!"

Namjoon's.

I try to even out my breathing even though I can feel the tension in my body rising.

They're talking about Yeonjun! They're talking about the man I love. They're talking about him as if he's...

As if Yeonjun's...

"Dead, Namjoon. Yeonjun's dead. There's nothing we can do."

And as if needles and pins dip themselves, I bang through the door and stumble into the room. Namjoon, Hyun and a very beat up Taehyun is sitting with a meal no one is bothering to touch. Daylight streams in the curved windows and in the distance, I see a forest of trees. We're flying.

"Where's Yeonjun, Namjoon?" I try to keep my voice stable but my hands and every part of my body is trembling from the newfound information that Yeonjun might be...

"You knocked yourself out and eavesdrop? A very good way to introduce yourself, sweetheart," says Namjoon, annoyance clear in his voice.

I just woke up and my head is still very foggy. Like a heavy weight in my body, barely holding it but anger and desperation keeps me going as I careen forward to him and he steps up to grip my wrist until my hand is forced open and I release the syringe.

"Listen to us, Choi," he forces me in a chair next to Taehyun.

Hyun actually looks at me with a little kinder gaze than Namjoon's but it just irks me more.

The words Yeonjun and dead keep on resonating inside my head and if I wasn't so out of control of my body and confuse, I would've already destroyed everything in front of me.

I don't even feel any grief.

Just desperation. Desperation so bad I'd lay in a bed of razor than accept what I heard.

No. I refuse to believe.

Namjoon sits infront of me, "Choi, I'm going to explain everything that happened. I don't want you to ask questions when I'm through, you understand?"

No, I don't. But I didn't answer.

Apparently, there was plan to break us out of the arena the moment the quell was announced. The victor tributes, who Yeonjun and I thought our rivals, had varying knowledge about it. Lee Hyun is a part, has been a part of an underground group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. The wanted to blow up the force field and break us out, good thing, when things got messed up in the arena, I still decided to blow it up despite my lack of awareness about the plan.

The fact that I played a role in their plan that they didn't bother telling me about until now, just sets my blood boiling even more.

"Ryujin tried to kill me," I spit out. I know my anger is misplaced but I glared on Taehyun who only meets my gaze with a hard look of his own.

"Ryujin knocked you out to cut the tracker from your arm and lead Wooyoung and San away from you."

"What?" My head aches and I just want them to stop talking in circle, "Why would she do that?"

"Don't you understand, Soobin?" Taehyun has his brows set in a tight crease, "We had to save you because you're the Mockingjay."

Namjoon speaks beside him, "While you live, the revolution lives."

The very first moment I got in the Hunger Games flashed back inside my head. When my younger brother's name got called in the Reaping and I volunteered for him instead. I remembered standing on the platform, until another boy was called, just a year older than me. It was the baker's son, Choi Yeonjun. We were the tributes from District 12. The ones chosen to join the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

I remembered setting foot in the train to the Capitol with a determined plan to win, to survive, to return home to my brother and mother. I remembered Yeonjun, ever thoughtful Yeonjun who befriended me despite knowing that we were basically foes. And I accepted the offered friendship despite knowing that in order to win the game, I'd have to kill him too. I'd have to kill Choi Yeonjun.

Because Hunger Games could only have one victor. One triumph. And it couldn't be Yeonjun if it'd have to be me.

I remembered being in the arena for the first time. I remembered trying hard to keep myself alive. I had to keep myself alive. Then Yeonjun offered to be an ally and I accepted, thinking that I could take advantage of this man so we could kill the other tributes together and in the end, kill him too so I could win.

I remembered the very first time Choi Yeonjun made me smile, despite the chaos we found ourselves in. I remembered the first time he flashed his pretty smile on me and told me, "I know what you want. I know what you've been trying to do. I know you have to win. I know and I'm still here because I want you to win too and it doesn't matter if you're planning to kill me while I sleep. I just want you to win, Soobin. Win this for your brother. For your family. For district 12."

I remembered the first time I hesitated, the first time doubt flashed inside my head. Because I didn't want to win anymore. I just wanted this boy, this pretty boy from District 12 with a name of Choi Yeonjun to live.

It didn't matter if I don't anymore. I just wanted him to live.

Hunger Games could only have one victor so when the moment came when it was just the two of us. Me and Yeonjun. Yeonjun and I.

I decided to be crazy.

I pulled out poisoned berries, knowing that the Capitol wouldn't let the annual quarter have no living victor. It's both of us or none.

So I pulled Yeonjun close, kissed him and breathes the words into his mouth, "I'd rather have you."

I was crazy. And maybe, Yeonjun was too. Because he took a berry in his hand.

Just when we were about to swallow the berries and maybe, die, they announced the both of us as victors.

Now, that little act of romance was viewed as an act of rebellion against the Capitol.

It was the very first time ever that the Hunger Games had two victors and that didn't sit right with the President of Panem, President Snow.

That was the reason, wasn't it. Why the past victors of different districts had to play the game again for the 75th Annual Hunger Games. It wasn't just another yearly match. It was to make sure I don't survive, as a punishment. And maybe, take Yeonjun away too.

Because our act of romance was viewed as a Chink in an Armor, as a start of groundswell rebellion causing riots all over the districts. People of Panem, who were starved and tortured by the Capitol, seen that as an act of defiance. If my holding out those berries was an act of temporary rebellion and insanity, then these people will embrace insanity too.

The pin. The bird. The song. The berries. I am the Mockingjay. The one who survived despite the Capitol's plans. The symbol of the rebellion.

"Yeonjun," I said, my heart sinking.

I can't accept all these without him.

"Soobin," Namjoon calls me but it's weak. He have his arms raised in defense, as if he's readying himself for an attack.

And he should. He really should.

"Where is Yeonjun?" I hiss at him.

"He was caught by the Capitol. There's no telling if he's alive or not. But there's a high chance that he's already.." And Namjoon had the decency to drop his gaze.

Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should really underestimate the danger I could bring, after all I survived the Games twice and I know how to attack especially when the target is unprepared. I lunge across the table and throw a punch on his face, causing blood to flow and damage to one eye.

They immediately try to pin me down but I am too angry to care. I know they want to hurt me too, hurt me back because they're doing all these things for me. Because I am their Mockingjay and it's too hard to keep me alive as it is.

They should've known that if they'd want me alive, they should've saved Yeonjun first.

I'm still thrashing as they drag me out until my back hits the padded table again, my body restrained and wrists tied down so I slam my head on the surface in fury again and again. A needle pokes my arm and my head hurts so badly so I stopped fighting.

I wanted to cry but my voice gives out already and I'm too tired to even think.

The drug caused sedation, not sleep, so I was trapped in a fuzzy, dully aching misery. All I can think of is Yeonjun and his beautiful smile, his grey eyes that never seemed to dull.

I remember the last conversation I had with him. We were arguing because just as it was my mission to keep him alive, he'd do anything to keep me alive as well and we both know that the Capitol won't do the same mistake again of letting the both of us live. It's always one between us.

If he knows how hard these people are trying to keep me alive, would he be happy. He would've felt he fulfilled his mission to keep me alive.

As I feel tears well up in my eyes, I realize I hate him even more than I do Namjoon.

I didn't let myself shed a single tear though. I give up. Stop speaking, responding and I refuse food and water. They can pump whatever they want into my arm.

And maybe, I could die out of spite too. To punish Namjoon.

Namjoon was our mentor. Before I got inside the arena, we had a deal that he'd do anything to keep Yeonjun alive even to the cost of my and his life.

He didn't keep it though. He, who of all the people in this rotting world, has turned Yeonjun and me into pieces in his game. I trusted him. I put what was precious in his hands and he betrayed me.

A lot of people come by to try and talk to me but I make all their words sound like the clicking of the insects in the jungle. Meaningless and distant. Until one time, I open my eyes and find someone I cannot block out looking down at me.

Someone who will not plead and explain and think they could alter my mind because he knows deeply well how I think. Who actually tries to understand what I feel not just for the sake of it.

"Kai," I call.

"Hey," my younger brother reaches out to me.

I wanted to hug him but I can't move.

"Kai, they keep saying Yeonjun's in the Capitol. I believe he's still alive. Please," I whisper, "Please, bring me to him."

"Hyung," Kai says softly.

I recognize that voice. It's the same one he uses to approach wounded animal before he delivers a deathblow. I instinctively raise a hand to block his words but he catches it and holds it tightly.

"Don't," I whisper.

It'll make everything seem too real.

But Kai is not one to keep secrets from me. "Hyung, Yeonjun is gone."

Maybe, because it is.

I refuse to grieve.

I keep telling myself I didn't lose anyone. I don't bother wasting time crying. Even when Kai starts crying for me.

Most of the people here in District 13 gave up on talking to me and getting me to cooperate, to be their Mockingjay.

Everyday, I just try to breathe and think of that pretty boy from District 12.

I just stop doing anything and they stop forcing me. They keep me in medication. When things start to get distinct, I just moan until they give me painkillers and that fixes everything right up. They can just pump anything into my arm, but it takes more than that to keep a person going once he's lost the will the live.

It's until Beomgyu, Yeonjun's best friend, barged inside my cell, where I am basically holed in. My head is swimming from the medication they pumped into my arms earlier but I felt the hard slam of his fist to my cheek.

It feels too real, too distinct to ignore.

"Get up, Choi Soobin! Get up!"

He forces me to stand up.

No one tries to stop him when he throws another punch to my face and maybe that was it, because I'm starting to feel more sober, more in touch to the reality I refuse to catch up on me.

He grips the collar of my nightgown and doesn't stop punching me until blood drips down my nose.

It hurts badly. This guy absolutely knows how to throw a punch but I didn't give him any reaction.

"Stop living like this! Yeonjun wanted you to live. I don't care if you drown in your self-pity and misery. You have to live, you understand, Choi Soobin? You have to live! Don't—"

He stops shaking me, letting me go as he stands up to look down at me.

I lay motionless on the floor. Barely paying attention to what was happening anymore.

His name rings in my ears.

Yeonjun.

Such a beautiful name.

Beomgyu looks away, clenching his jaw as he angrily mutters, "Don't waste your life like this, Soobin. He let them take him away so you could live. He protected you until his last breath, make it worth something."

Something hot starts to well up in the corner of my eyes.

But I didn't ask for this. I want to scream but I stick my eyes on the ceiling.

Beomgyu throws me another dirty look before he slams the door shut in my cell, living me alone.

I feel it now.

It starts as a dull ache, until it grows slowly. I am strangely hyper aware of the hard beating of my heart.

I briefly thinks I just want it to stop.

My resolve is starting to crack. I slowly feel pain binding me by the neck, making it hard to breathe.

Tear tracks trail its way down my temples.

I hear the thunder roars so I get up and walk to the blinded window of my cell.

The sky is crying.

It doesn't really need a companion so I wiped my cheeks.

I let it weep and drown the grief weighing me down.

I try not to think of Yeonjun but it's hard when almost everything I see reminds me of him.

The funny thing is, even the smallest details remind me of him. Almost like everything existed for him and now that he's gone, they lost their purpose too.

Or maybe, I'm being biased.

Even my bow, probably my most treasured weapon, gives me some sort of ache looking at it. Almost like an arrow was being repeatedly stab on my chest, digging a hole until all that's left is just a shamble of what used to be my heart.

There was some sort of memory latched on it, I guess.

The more I stare at my bow, the more I feel pain clawing my skin.

It was something of a happy memory but it's ironic, how those happy memories with Yeonjun hurt more than the rough patches.

Yeonjun's strength was his weapon, much like how I rely the most with my bow. It was his asset, like an advantage except that he won't really use it, only when needed.

Before the official start of the quarter quell, we had training first.

I always like watching Yeonjun try a few things, only because I like the look on his face when he figures out he's actually good at it, like knotting ropes, or doing camouflage, he was also a very good mouthpiece. When Yeonjun speaks, he holds himself like he could convince you to jump on a cliff right there and then, and maybe because he really can.

I fumble with words but Yeonjun, he's a charmer. He knows his way with them, knows just the right twist, the right word to use, the right tone. He's got a gentle but nudging look on his face when he talks.

Yeonjun is so good in doing a lot of things and maybe, that was why he broke my walls so easily the first time and managed to get me to give him my heart in the palm of my hands for him to accept.

He's so good at leaving too. And I never like that about him.

If there's one thing he can't really excel at though, was archery.

There was time during training when I saw him alone in the Archery Range. I did not let my presence known and just watched him struggle with holding the bow for minutes.

Yeonjun tilted it, directing the tip of his arrow on the target mark and even though I was standing meters away from him, I could tell he wouldn't be able to hit it. Not even close.

And he knew that too because he let out a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. A cry of frustration.

"Hey," I called and smiled.

He looked back at me but he didn't smile back. He frowned and set those beautiful lips into a pout.

"Can't sleep?"

I shook my head, "Couldn't turn my mind off."

I heard him laugh a little and I smiled hearing it.

I approached him, pushing him by his shoulders so he'll face the target mark again. I leaned in, placing my hands above his as I tilt the bow up again.

"Don't grip the bow," I whisper.

Yeonjun's shoulders shake a little as he laughs, "Okay, mister know-it-all."

I only grinned and kissed his temple as he followed my instruction.

"Focus on the draw," I aimed the bow arm up, "Use your back muscle, not your arms," I trailed my fingers from his hands, leaving it loosely holding the bow, to his arms, up to his shoulders.

I lightly grip it and lowly whispered, "Smooth release and follow through."

He took it as his cue to release the arrow.

I grinned when it hit the center of the target mark.

"That's not so bad."

Yeonjun looked back at me, an amused glint in his eyes, "What a privileged it is to learn only from the best, huh."

"Lucky ass," I laughed.

He walked closer to me and put his head on my shoulder. When our laugh died down, I felt him leave a kiss on the side of my neck.

"Thinking about your family?" I asked.

"No," he put a distance between us again and gently put the bow on the floor, "All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course."

"No," My voice was merely a breath, "Not pointless. Never."

Yeonjun lays on his back on the floor, looking at me hesitatingly, "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only, I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

I furrowed my brows as an answer.

"I don't want them to change me while I'm in there. The game. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

I bite my lips because I do. I do understand.

In Hunger Games, there's only one decision to make. It's to survive.

"When the time comes, I know I'll have to kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to... to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their games."

I stood up and forced him to stand up.

His grey eyes locked into mine and I cupped his jaw with one hand as the other picked the laying bow on the floor.

"We were never a piece of their games. We won't ever. I won't let them take you."

But in the end, I failed. I let them take him.

Yeonjun's words that night hunt me.

That memory burns at the back of my mind and I know I can't just mope around here in my cell forever.

I have to do something.

I bite my lips, feeling inferior to my thoughts. If only I could wash this pain away. I'd rather have a deep gash than a bleeding heart.

After maybe weeks of moping, today, I finally found the strength to stand up.

I looked for my clothes and washed up.

They are neatly folded on a table. How I never noticed them is a wonder.

They're plain navy shirt, well-fitted pants and boots.

I gripped my bow and marched to archery range for some sanity. People looked at me with shock as they watch me try different bows and arrows. I paid them no mind.

The officer in charged, Tax, seeing that the standing targets are no challenge for me, begins to launch iA birds high into the air for me to hit.

I felt thrilled as he starts increasing the number of birds he sends airborne and I hit each and every one of them.

When I hit five birds in one round, that's when I realized I was gripping my bow.

"Don't grip the bow."

I throw it to the ground and huffs. My hands are balled into a fist as I clench my jaw.

"I don't want them to change me while I'm in there. The game. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

I push my hair back as I wear my leather gloves. I hurried to the Conference and slammed the metal door open.

The whole team was there. Taehyun, Namjoon, Hyun, Beomgyu and Sowon Kim, the District leader of 13. I agreed to attend a meeting with them once. I half listened to them and half just watch the perfect line of Sowon's hair and decide if it's a wig. Eventually, I left the room because my head started to ache or it's time to eat or if I don't get aboveground, I might start screaming. I don't always bother to say anything to them. I simply bat an eyelash to them and walk past them.

"I'll agree to be your Mockingjay," I say as I catch my breath.

I saw the shock register to their faces.

To become the Mockingjay... the face of the revolution against the Capitol... could any good I do possibly outweigh the damage?

Then I remember Yeonjun's words again.

"Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to... to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their games."

"I feel like there's a but there," Namjoon raises a brow and he's right.

I take a deep breath and lick my lips as I set my eyes locked to Sowon's.

They don't own you, Yeonjun, I'll make sure to show them. They don't own any of us.

"I want to assasinate President Snow."

"You're both incredibly brave and naive," says Seokjin.

Seokjin is the escort of our District's tributes, he's like an advisor to me and Yeonjun.

I try not to show how my shoulders sag.

I avoid his eyes and focus instead on tying my boots. I'm wearing a simple black tee, cargo pants and my leather gloves. My bow is laying soundlessly beside me, arrows hanging at my back.

"The Capitol is luring you by using Yeonjun. They knew what the loss would cost you. Don't be foolishly brave, Soobin."

I stop what I'm doing, leaning my elbows on my knees as I cup my mouth in frustration, "Well, they didn't arrest him because they knew he'd be wealth of rebel information. So they killed him instead, Seokjin."

My voice trembles but I try to get my point across, all my pent up anger, "They have a high price to pay."

"I didn't come here to stop you," Seokjin purses his lips, leaning on the doorway as he scans me, "You know, when I first met you I could tell you wanted to win so badly, you were a fighter. And after your Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected for you to continue that strategy to defy the capitol. It wasn't until this... that.."

"That what?"

"That I knew I misjudged you. That you do love him. I'm not saying in what way. Maybe, you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you cared about him, how much he means to you," he says gently.

I know. I know since the start that I'm in love with Yeonjun. In every way. And in doing so, I gave the Capitol a weapon they needed to break me.

"How do you bear this?" Seokjin isn't prying, he's asking if I'm okay, if I can still handle everything.

As in me becoming the face of a groundswell rebellion against the Capitol. And losing him.

"I don't, Seokjin," I look at him in disbelief, "Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking."

Something in my expression stops him.

I continue, "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

My plan is simple. Kill President Snow. I repeat that in my mind every hour in a day.

Their plan — is more detailed, of course, where and how to enter the Capitol, when to attack and how I'll get the president.

Oh, how satisfying it'd be once I get my hands on him.

Early on, we decided to accept Taemin's, who survived after all, assertion that the entrances couldn't be taken but I have another idea.

"Is it necessary to take the Nut? Or would it be enough we take it but disable it?" I ask as I stare at the draft of a massive missile bomb.

"Taking the Nut would be a step to the right direction," says Taemin, "What do you have in mind?"

"Think of the Capitol as a wild dog den," I grip the edge of the table with one hand, the other pointing the map of Panem, "We don't have to fight our way in. We have two choices. Trap the dogs inside or flush them out."

Hyun speaks up, "We've tried bombing the entrances and they're set too far inside the stone to cause any real damage."

"I wasn't thinking of that," I say, "I was thinking of using the mountain."

Taehyun rises and joins us at the table, "Avalanche paths?"

I nod. "See? Running down the sides."

"It'd be very tricky. If we want to take the Nut and disable it at the same time, we'd have to design the detonation sequence with great care and once it's in motion, we couldn't hope to control it," says Taehyun.

I shrug, "Yeah." I look at him and raise a brow, "And that's your job."

Taehyun made a move to lunge at me but Namjoon holds him and speaks between us, "We don't need to control it if we give up the idea that we have to possess the Nut," he says.

"Only shut it down," Seokjin adds.

Taemin nods, "So what Soobin suggested is we start avalanches and block entrances?"

"Basically," I set my eyes locked on Taemin, since he's our head and he really should be taking every words that come out of my mouth very seriously, "Trap the enemy inside, cut off from supplies. Make it impossible for them to send out their hovercrafts and armies."

While everyone considers my words, Hyun grins at me.

"See? I told you, no one else could be our Mockingjay but him," he boasts.

I frown at him.

"No, but listen," Taehyun flips through a stack of blueprints of the Nut and frowns. "If we do that, we'll risk killing everyone inside. Look at the ventilation system, it's rudimentary at best. If those vents are blocked, everyone trapped inside will suffocate."

"They could still escape through the train tunnel to the square," Namjoon suggests.

I stand up straight. "Not if we blow it up," I say brusquely.

I'm making my intentions clear. I have no interest in preserving the lives of those people in the Capitol. No interest in caging the prey for later use.

I want this to be a death trap.

Just like how those people watch us meet our deaths in the Games.

These people don't deserve mercy.

The implications of what I'm saying quietly settle around the room. I can see the reaction playing out on their faces. The expressions range from pleasure to distress, from sorrow to satisfaction.

"Soobin, the majority of these people are citizens," Taemin neutrally says.

"So what?" I try to make my voice sound firm, like it's not borderline shaking, "We'll never be able to trust them again."

Taehyun speaks and he's looking at me like he's trying to figure out whether he wants me pissed or not, "They should at least have a chance to surrender."

"Well, that's a luxury we weren't given when they firebombed my home." I spit the words. "But you're all so much cozier with the Capitol here, I guess."

By the look on Namjoon's face, I think he's about to shoot me, or at least take a swing but Seokjin beside him, pats him by the shoulder and he immediately retreats.

My nose flares with anger at the sight.

A choice wasn't a luxury Yeonjun was probably given. If then, he could've been standing here beside me right now.

I know I'm being a dick right now, but I'm really too tired to care.

"That isn't something anyone liked, Soobin," Seokjin bristles and there's an unspoken that wouldn't be something Yeonjun want to do either.

"Soobin, you said we had two choices," Taemin speaks again, "To trap them or flush them out. I say we try to avalanche the entrances and exits but leave the tunnels alone. People can escape into the square, where we'll be waiting for them."

There's a big lump in my throat but I swallow it down.

This isn't what Yeonjun wants, Soobin. I try to tell myself.

"They could be heavily armed. They'd fight us too, no doubt." I said instead.

"Yes. Heavily armed. But we'll take them prisoner," agrees Taemin.

I nod and avoid everyone's eyes as I move to leave the room.

"Let's get this plan rolling then."

A call does happen, a decision is made and by evening I'm suited up in my Mockingjay outfit, with my bow slung over my shoulder and an earpiece that connects me to Namjoon. We wait on the  District 13's hovercraft with a clear view of the entrances.

Our hoverplanes are initally ignored by their system but after two rounds of bombing in the higher elevation of the mountain, the planes have their attention. By the time the Capitol's antiaircraft weapons begins to fire, it's already too late.

Taemin was right about not being able to control the Nut once they'd been set into motion. The mountainsides are naturally unstable but now weakened by the explosions, they seem to be crumbling. Whole sections of the gate collapse before our eyes.

We stand speechless as we watch waves of stone thunder down the mountain. Burying the entrances under tons of rock, raising a cloud of dirt and debris that blackens the sky, turning the gates into a tomb.

I am left stunt, frozen as I imagine the hell below me. Sirens wailing. Lights flickering into darkness. Stone dust choking the air. Live wires flung free, fires breaking out and rubble making a familiar path of a maze. The shrieks of panicked, trapped beings stumbling blindly of their way out.

I inhale deeply and think.

What have we done?

"Soobin, are you there?" Namjoon speaks in my earpiece.

I try to stable my voice as I answer back, "Yes."

"Get down. Just in case the Capitol tries to retaliate with what's left of its airforce."

I follow his instruction and as I descend from the hoverplane onto the ground, I trace my eyes to the unblemished, white marble walls of the Capitol. So cold and beautiful. In here, there's nothing to match the magnificence of this place. There's no give to the surface, only flesh yields, my warmth taken.

Stone do conquers people every time.

I walk slowly, my hands ready on my bow. I look around me, waiting for an attack I have no idea if ever come.

I know the rebels launched a heated attack and drove the Capitol forces back several blocks so we'd control the train station in the event that the gates fell. Well, it's fallen. The reality slowly sinks in.

I can hear the gunfire starting again, as the Peacekeepers are in no doubt trying to fight their way.

In no time, I see a Peacekeeper appear at the edge of my peripheral. I released an arrow to its direction and watch it collapse before it can even grasp the gun to fire at me.

Then there's another one at my 10 o'clock.

"Should I send back up, Soobin?"

I huff as I continuously hit Peacekeepers who appear around me one by one. "No, don't," I managed to grunt.

They're slowly inching close, already a pack of them that I couldn't take down anymore no matter how fast and nimble I am, simply because I am outnumbered.

I could easily tell Namjoon to send help through my earpiece but as I grip my last arrow, a barely distance between me and a Peacekeeper, I remember the grief I felt when they told me Yeonjun has gone.

The dread comes again, crawling their way up.

And maybe, in a moment of brief insanity, I surrender.

"Don't grip the bow."

I put my bow down and wait as they make their way to me, their guns raised and aiming at me but I couldn't feel an ounce of fear.

Just simply grief.

And maybe, that was the moment I completely, truly accepted I had lost Yeonjun.

I lost a part of myself.

But in the last second, an arrow struck the Peacekeeper leading its way to me.

I look down at my hands alarmingly, checking if I accidentally released it but my last arrow is still loosely gripped, its white feather looking majestic.

I looked up and the arrow's feather was black.

I hold my breath.

Another set of arrows were released and gunfires from the Peacekeepers resounded but they're not aimed at me, but at someone behind me.

There came a hailstorm of arrows and then the pack of Peacekeepers were shot down. I looked around me frantically, my pulse ringing in my ears.

I turned around to catch a glimpse of someone in a black ensemble and bright pink hair running behind woods, a bow in their arms.

I take a shaky deep breathe as I train my eyes on that person. Nevermind me standing in the middle of a battle. I didn't bother throwing any care around me.

My lungs feel so small, like they're squeezing the air in and out of my chest. I realize as my arms drop on my sides that I am shaking, shaking so bad.

I could spot that face anywhere.

When that person stopped running, hiding behind a tree and shooting the last Peacekeeper on sight with an arrow, first sob wacked my body.

Disbelieving.

My eyes water as the figure slowly reveals itself.

He slowly came out of the woods, walking confidently towards me. He's wearing a black turtleneck, black flannel hugging his body just fine, a cross on his chest with brown belts, black cargo pants, black boots and black leather gloves. There's a cut on his cheek, just below his right eye, a hint of blood but not so much. His bright pink hair was parted in the middle, just the right messiness where you could tell he's been moving a lot.

I'd recognize that face anywhere. That face. That walk. That smile. Those grey eyes that glint with a mixture of confidence and humbleness. Those beautiful set of lips stretched to a smile, a ghost of smirk.

"Yeonjun," I breathes out shakily.

"Soobin? What's happening there? Go back to the tunnel, Soobin! We're going back now." Namjoon's voice barely registers to my ears and I plugged the earpiece out.

Yeonjun stops a few breadth away from me.

"You're alive," I mumble.

I couldn't breathe.

"You really think it'd be that easy to get rid of me?" says Yeonjun, his head tilted and a smug smirk on his lips.

I didn't waste any second anymore as I throw my bow at the ground to run to him.

I pulled him and kissed him senselessly as soon as I reached him. I cup his jaw, tilting it as I selfishly take and take.

It was very clumsy. His teeth knocking to mine, noses bumping and angle awkward but the taste of him on my lips makes me want to cry a bit.

A lot.

I kiss him fiercely and try to relay the last bit of desperation and grief clinging to me and convince myself that this is real. This is happening and Yeonjun is alive.

Nothing else matters.

He pulls away and I let his touch on my neck ground me back.

"Soobin, I won't go anywhere else without you."

A sob escape me and I hug him tight, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

I grip him by the waist, pulling him impossibly closer to me. I breathe him in and try to stop myself from crying.

Overwhelming relief is making my whole body shudder. As if I had been holding my breath until this moment, and now I was given a chance to breathe, I gasp for air.

He hugs me back, holds me just as close as he whispers to my ears, "Let's do this together."

Together.