Hi! This is a fanfiction between Death Note and The Hunger Games. It's advisable that you don't read this unless you have watched/read at least one of those, as I will not be bothering to explain a couple of things. I have posted this before, but I'm lazy and I've edited a bit. So yeah, I hope someone finds this vaguely interesting, but my audience is pretty much limited to about three people. Which is including myself. I'll shut up now. ~ᎢᎯᎦᎻ ><>><>><>><>><>><>><>><> A distraught 12 year old Finnick watched as his big brother slowly walked onto the wooden stage. The camera zoomed in on Light's face. He noticed this. The shock and fear was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced with a cool expression and a barely perceptible smirk. It was impossible for anybody to see through such a flawless façade. The district escort, Misa, seemed delighted at the result this year, even with no volunteers. She blushed when Light came onto the stage, the thick make-up merely amplifying this and making her cheeks turn an odd colour. "And here we have our two tributes for the 67th Hunger Games, fourteen year old Hayley Lidner and seventeen year old Light Yagami!" They shook hands and looked out into the crowd. Light caught Finnick's eye, giving him a quick smile, enough to convince anyone Light thought he was going to win. Finnick simply stared back at Light, not bothering to hide the horror he felt. His only brother was leaving, and there was a one in twenty four chance he would come back. Well, the odds were probably much more in his favor. Light was attractive, strong, and skilled in almost everything. He would win the crowd and the games. But Finnick wished he at least shared his last name with his brother. You see, Light had been born before their parents were married, meaning he took their mother's last name. They were married soon after, but Yagami suited him so much better than Odair. But even with the difference in name, it was obvious they were brothers. Even at 12, Finnick had the same Adonis-like complexion as Light. The tributes went inside. Finnick dashed towards the door, desperate to see his brother and talk to him while the cameras were gone. Their parents followed closely behind. "Light!" "Finnick." They embraced, both wearing sad smiles and with tears in their eyes. Their mother was sobbing into a hankerchief. Their father gripped Light's shoulder. "Son, you can win this. I know you can. Win, come back, and be safe." They spent the next hour in silence. A peacekeeper called them to leave. Finnick quickly pressed something into Light's hand before hugging him one last time.
Did I mention there's swearing? Cuz there is. ><>><>><>><>><>><>><>><> Light looked around the train, barely acknowledging the tribute sitting beside him. She kept alternating between looking at him and the floor, blushing whenever Light looked in her general direction. Light was in awe of the grandeur of this vehicle. His family weren't poor, but this... This was beyond luxury. He saw a large bowl filled with brown chunks of something. ...chocolate? Light had seen the stuff before, but never had he eaten any. He reached out to pick up a piece. A gunshot echoed across the room. Survival instincts kicked in, and Light hit the floor. The girl tribute just shrieked and covered her head with her arms. Like that would help anything. Light tried not to judge her too harshly though. While pretty enough, she was only fourteen and wasn't from the richest family. When he finally decided no more shots would be deployed, he looked up. Was that the escort in another outfit and no makeup? "If you fucking DARE to touch my chocolate again, I will fucking blow your worthless head off." In skipped the escort, still with two tons of make up on her. If Light didn't know any better, he would've sworn they were related. He stepped away from the chocolate, sitting back down. "Mello! Don't treat our pretty little tributes like that! Misa is ashamed of you!" Misa's voice squeaked. Literally. The noise was enough to make you want to rip the entire internal structure of your ear out. She skipped over to Light, wrapping her disgustingly skinny arms around him and cooing like he was 17 months old, not years. Mello ignored her, shoving an impossible amount of chocolate in his mouth. His started to speak, his voice slightly muffled. "Hrmm... Not sure about the girl, seems a little too timid. You though, you've got guts. Too much guts. Try not to get yourself blown up. If you manage not to do that, you should have some pretty good chances. The crowd of capital Capitol crazies should love you to pieces. But not literally. Shame, I wouldn't mind seeing bits of their multicolored bodies scattered everywhere, but you need sponsors..." Mello went onto a rant about how stupid the Capitol people were, until Misa made an annoyed whine and stomped her foot, reminding Mello that the Capitol people were who sponsored him. "THEY sponsored me? Oh no they fucking didn't! I didn't get a single sponsor gift in there! When I got this fucking burn all over my fucking body it was district 4 that sent me some fucking medicine, not those pompous bastards!" Misa stopped and walked away, too stupid to think of something else to say; too childish to be sympathetic towards Mello as he indicated the burn that ran down half of his face and most likely his chest. Light wondered if he would be scarred that badly if he ever made it out alive. If he ever? Of course he would! He would deceive them all with charm and good looks until they would willingly bare their necks to him. "You." Light looked up at the rude addressing, turning towards his mentor who would be guiding him for what could be the rest of his life. "Yes, sir?" "It's Mello. I've seen you spear fishing before. You weren't too bad." Light figured that was the equivalent of an extremely flattering compliment. He smiled politely at Mello, only now noticing how similar in age they were. Mello was only a couple years older than him, having won the games when he was sixteen. That was four years ago. "Thank you, Mello. My father taught me from a very young age. He has been teaching my younger brother how to use a trident since he was seven." "I don't give a shit about your family, Light. If you want to be sentimental, go and do it in your room." Light glared at him. He wasn't too bothered about not seeing his parents again, but he wished he had spent more time with Finnick. He suddenly remembered Finnick had dropped something in his hand before he left. He decided to look at it later, in the privacy of his room. "You. Tribute girl." Misa pranced briefly back into the room to retrieve something. Just in time to correct Mello. "Her name is Hayley, Mello. Misa thinks Mello should get to know his tributes more!" Mello simply aimed his gun at Misa and yelled at her. She immediately fled the room. Why was he even allowed that thing? Maybe they just couldn't get it off him... "The more I know, the more nightmares that happen..." Muttered Mello. "Anyway. You. Tribu-- Hayley. Go and ask one of the attendants for more chocolate." She silently left as fast as she could. Every single morsel of chocolate in the room had been injested. That left just Light and a slowly suffering Mello in the train car. Fine minutes passed by. "Godammit! WHERE THE HELL IS MY FUCKING CHOCOLATE!?" Hayley rushed back in a few minutes later, handing Mello a few bars of the stuff. He snatched it from her, not uttering a single word of thanks. ~ Light and Hayley both sat down at the dinner table. A large amount of assorted foods were laid out in front of them by silent, white uniformed people. Hayley, coming from a poor family, was completely astounded by this. She grabbed several things and shoved them into her mouth one after the other. Light was a little more cautious. He poked and prodded, sampling a little of everything. He eventually settled on a simple fish dish, something similar to what he was used to. His drink was somewhat lemon flavored and fizzy. He didn't dislike the sensation, but he preferred to have something like he had at home. Something familiar. He exchanged the beverage for a plain glass of water. After dinner, they immediately retired to their rooms. Light was slightly disappointed that Mello hadn't given any pointers, but it didn't bother him too much. After all, he could win all by himself if he tried. Misa barged in, asking if Light was ok. She ignored Light when he said he was fine, practically sitting on his lap and trying to 'comfort' him. Light eventually managed to get her out of the room, locking the door behind her. He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling his hand brush against something. He pulled it out. It was the token Finnick had given him. A simple wooden ring made of driftwood, but in the middle was a small yet beautifully polished pearl. Light blinked back the tears. Crying only dehydrated you faster. His fingertips carefully traced the carvings in the wood once he slipped it onto his hand. He undressed, getting into bed and quickly falling asleep.
Hm. It takes the -ing off... ><>><>><>><>><>><>><> "Kim Takada." A sophisticated looking girl walked on stage. People screamed and cried out in distress for her, but nobody would volunteer. Kim Takada, 16 years old. Daughter of one of the richest people in District Five. Not that people there were very rich. "And now for the boys." The escort had to stand on his tiptoes to reach into the bowl. He delicately plucked a name out, shuffling to the microphone and murmuring into it. "Ryuzaki Rue." A boy walked up to the stage. All was silent. His wild black hair fluttered in the wind, his baggy clothes merely emphasizing his bad posture and weak appearance. "And here we have our two tributes for the 67th Hunger Games. Kim Takada, sixteen, and Ryuzaki Rue, seventeen." Even though the escort, Near, was speaking into the microphone, it was extremely difficult to hear him. He almost whispered, and didn't seem to care if people heard him or not. They shook hands. Several people noticed the boy was barefoot. But he didn't seem to mind. He looked out into the crowd, his face devoid of emotion. But if one looked at his eyes, they could tell he was deep in thought. ~ Through the pitifully thin walls of the Justice Building, Ryuzaki could hear people sobbing in the room next to him, where Kim was. She received heartfelt farewells that Ryuzaki would never get. Nobody had visited him. Then again, why would they? About twenty minutes into the remaining hour here that he had, the door slowly creaked open, a head popping through. The rest of the body followed, and was soon sat opposite him. "Beyond. Thank you for coming to say goodbye." Beyond Birthday. A peculiar name, but it was what he wanted. All the children from the orphanage were nameless. They chose their own names. People were almost positive Ryuzaki and Beyond were brothers; they were the spitting image of eachother. Their almost exact replication of the other attracted them to each other, and they grew to be close friends. Beyond gave Ryuzaki a piece of spare wire. It was bent into the shape of a strawberry, and painted red with green on the top. He turned it over to see the bit of wire left over had been bent into a circle shape, like a ring. Strawberries. They had only had them once, when they found a raggedy old bush of them by the fence. Only a few were remotely edible, but they were both starving. They never had enough to eat in the orphanage. They shoved them into their mouths, hoping they wouldn't be poisoned. Both fell in love with the fruit, but never found it again. Ryuzaki smiled at the simple gesture, thanking Beyond and pulling him into a hug. He was positive they would not meet again. "Ryuzaki, you are smart enough to win this." "Goodbye, Beyond." "...Goodbye, Ryuzaki." And with that, Ryuzaki's last remaining family member got up and left the room.
This is all I've got written so far. I'll post some more soon. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe. ><>><>><>><>><>><>><>><> Ryuzaki found the train very strange. It just wasn't what he was used to, and it made him slightly uneasy. Everything was too posh, too fake. The floor was too smooth, too clean. The windows weren't shattered, or covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. There were no battery acid stains on the walls, and everything was far too quiet. Maybe all trains were like this? He wouldn't know, all they had in district 5 were the massive transportation trucks for delivery of products to the Capitol. Him, Kim, Matt (their mentor) and Near all sat in the train car, facing each other. Yet nobody was speaking. Near stared at the two tributes, twirling his flawless, curly white hair with one leg tucked underneath him on the chair. Kim stared into space, her figure pale and shaking. Matt was sprawled on his seat with a cigarette between his teeth, his attention completely focused on the small gaming console he held in his hands. Ryuzaki sat in a slightly odd crouching position on his chair, balancing perfectly on his toes. He didn't want to touch the foreign material if he could help it, but this seemed like an appropriate compromise. His feet had managed to stay relatively clean, considering he had been barefoot in a place as filthy as District 5. But he didn't care if his feet got dirty. In the cold, electric, dead District 5, he had to walk around barefoot, stepping on small bits of metal and other debris. The small, sharp stabs of pain cleared his mind somewhat, but the only time it had ever cleared completely was with the strawberries... He decided to stay barefoot in the arena if he could. It was something Beyond had shown him, and he wanted to hold onto it. Not to mention it would keep his mind sharper and he would be more alert. He stared at each person in turn, analyzing them. He didn't like Near that much. While Ryuzaki hid his emotions, Near didn't seem to have any at all. Kim just seemed very scared, but Ryuzaki knew she would gain confidence. Someone like her could adapt so quickly that it was almost disturbing. Matt... He intrigued Ryuzaki. For a victor, he had always seemed so relaxed, so carefree. At least, from a distance. Now, Ryuzaki could see how he clung to his console almost desperately, how his mouth trembled ever to slightly with the effort of not clenching his teeth shut, which would crush the cigarette. How even with such a relaxed, open position, he seemed guarded and alert... And his eyes. What were they like? Behind those goggles, Ryuzaki was almost sure they were filled with terror. It was almost visible if one watched; how they darted around frantically when he wasn't glued to a screen. He stared for a little longer at Matt's eyes, trying to see past his goggles. Eventually, he noticed that one was missing.
Okay, I'll stay Who doesn't? Do you prefer strawberries plain, or with sugar, cream, or chocolate? Or with all three
Did y'all plan your coming back together? I'm about to have a massive heart attack from excitement.
Heart attack I like them with chocolate. Ali likes to eat mutilated strawberry corpses Ali, are you going to come back? We actually planned this story thing, but I'm too lazy to start writing it.
But now I want to finish this, and whenever I work on two things at once everything fails miserably
But if they're bad I can give criticism.? This may sound weird but I like giving criticism. And I'd rather have bad stories in ff than no stories in ff.
If they put the criticism to good use instead of rejecting it, then I would agree with you, unfortunately there are several who don't .-.
Yeah, and then I have to keep telling them the same thing. Unless they argue with me and tell me their story is amazing. Then I rage-quit pimd.