An Ending is Just the Beginning

[wizardplease]

Who| Haruto Soma and possibly you!
What| Haruto's number came up, and now he's back in the Capitol. Here's how he's keeping himself occupied.
Where| District 11's suites, the Training Center, and the tower in general
When| Weeks 5 and 6
Warnings/Notes| None yet


A - District 11 kitchen

Dying for the second time was not nearly as upsetting as dying the first time had been. It was no picnic, of course, but this time he knew what to expect. Shunpei the tribble was nuzzling at his head, having missed him, and his room was precisely as he had left it. That horrible month-and-then-some was over, and he did not want to dwell on failure this time. He wanted to live again. He wanted to eat.

So it was with Shunpei balanced on his shoulder that he sauntered into the District 11 kitchen and started rummaging around, acting as though nothing at all odd or terrible had recently happened to him. He'd process it later, he was sure. For now there was coffee to make, and... and onigiri. He was supposed to make onigiri, wasn't he? The thought came to him as he found rice in the cupboards, thought of rice balls, thought of the promise he and Nitou had made back in the last arena, thought of Nitou himself....

It's a few hours later when he actually manages to get down to business. The kitchen was a nice one, but it didn't have the 'specialty ingredients' that he'd need to do something as simple (to him) as onigiri. So he'd written a list, given it to an Avox, and been as polite as possible in his request. He's genuinely surprised by how quickly she returns, and genuinely thankful. There was even a tiny container of umeboshi, which he hadn't expected at all. They could take away his mother tongue and pull him from his homeland, but there were still bits and pieces of it here, weren't there? Enough to help keep hope alive, at least for now.

Districtmates and anyone wandering through the suites that day will find him being much more industrious than usual in the kitchen. This is more than the usual fiddling with the espresso machine. He's got tiny little bowls full of filling and strips of papery green nori and even (gasp) one of the bottles of mayonnaise that he had promised Nitou he'd stash away safely. These aren't just for him, after all. He's going to surprise the hell out of his fellow Rider. "...damn it." If he can just figure out how to keep a blob of mayo securely in the middle of the rice.


B - Training Center

Haruto did have to eventually stop and think about his death at Thor's hands. It was inevitable, especially since it was a dramatic enough thing to make it into hard to avoid arena recaps. The takeaway, though, was that he was simply not good enough at doing things without magic as backup. He could barely start a fire or catch food, he was noisy and awkward in the woods and the snow, and he seemed to only be able to really put on a good fight when he had a truckload of mana and sparkly rings on his fingers. This wouldn't do. He couldn't keep failing in the same way. He'd have to get better.

So he's down in the Training Center, and he's doing more than just idle bag-punching or taking an easy jog on the treadmill. When he's not throwing himself through the obstacle course with everything he's got, he's fighting a barrage of simulated opponents and forcing himself to strike as directly as possible. No showy twirls, no flourishes, no posing... there's no time for that. And even consciously trying to avoid it? He's still not fast enough to prevent the artificial opponents from getting critical hits in on him. So he starts again. And again. And again.

And when he no longer has the energy to run or swing a sword, he's crouched at the fire-starting station, determined to finally master coaxing fire out of some crappy sticks and tinder. People are free to interrupt him during any of this. He might even appreciate the distraction. But this wizard looks like he is trying very, very hard at everything, today.


C - Tribute Tower Lobby - Closed to Megan Gwynn

The days in the arena may have been long, stressful, and exhausting for Haruto, but not so much so that he could easily sleep through the nights. There were more than a few evenings where he'd stuck it out on his own and wound up camping most of the night solo, and he had barely slept a wink for fear of what might be out there waiting for him. There were others where he had crashed with other people, but the snores and muttering and general discomfort of the whole thing had kept him up, too. He'd had a lot of time to himself to think, and one of the things he had to think on was that pretty girl with the fairy wings.

They had gotten along pretty well when they last talked properly, hadn't they? Rescuing Megan from Nitou's nonsense didn't count. Probably. And even though those pre-arena interviews were full of choppy editing and probably a bunch of Capitol garbage, maybe she really did think he was cute? She had sent him a blanket and wished him good luck. It was, on the whole, more potentially positive attention from the opposite sex than he had gotten in ages, and trying to work out what to do about it would have tied him in knots even if he wasn't sleeping in a tiny tent on the snowy, rocky ground. He was so busy fretting about whether he even deserved such attention in the first place that there was no room to examine what, exactly, he felt in return. It was a mess.

But back in the Capitol, he had settled on feeling obligated to her. She'd given him something that he'd gotten a lot of use out of. And even if her gift had arrived well before Valentine's Day hit, the calendar was creeping closer to White Day. Sure, it was unlikely that anyone here bothered to celebrate it, but it was still significant to him. So that was how Haruto arrived at something to do. He'd get her a present. Just something in return, to even things up. Something to get a foot in the door so that he could figure out just what was actually going on between them. He had gone out shopping, found everything that he had wanted to over the course of an afternoon, and returned to the tribute center with a spring in his step and wrapped packages in a shopping bag at his side. And his luck seemed to be holding, for he could spot Megan across the lobby.

"Hey! Megan, hey!" He has absolutely no idea what he's doing, but he's going to do it as enthusiastically and immediately as he can. After calling out to her, he just about bounds through the crowd and towards her.

Comments

A

[infinitemayonnaise]

"Haruto? Hey, Haruto, you in here?" Nitou's bored right now, and being bored means that he's either going to go get into some trouble by himself, or he's going to try to drag someone into trouble with him. At the moment, he's got some vague idea of maybe trying to find some bicycles or soccer balls or something that one or the other of them might find entertaining. It had been really easy to get someone to let him into the District 11 suites (probably a little too easy, thanks uncomfortable dating rumors), and now he was just walking through there hollering for his friend.

[wizardplease]

Isn't this convenient? He may not have a mayo-filled onigiri ready, but the recipient has gone to all the trouble of showing up. "In here!" And, because he does not fully trust Nitou to find his way over without startling everyone else, he adds "In the kitchen!"

And that is indeed where Haruto is to be found. He has a relaxed smile on his face, a few completed onigiri on a plate.... "Here! Catch!" And there is now one of those completed not-mayo-filled onigiri being tossed at the other Rider.

[infinitemayonnaise]

It is very lucky for the other occupants of the suites that Haruto has told Nitou where he is, for they have been spared a hobo wandering through and getting all up in their business.

Nitou snatches the onigiri out of mid air easily enough. "Onigiri! You actually made some!" He seems plenty pleased with even the idea of an attempt as he easily whips a mayonnaise bottle out of nowhere and squirts a big dollop onto it. He grins as he takes a bite with gusto. "Not bad!"

[wizardplease]

"We were overdue for it." He nods appreciatively at that nice catch, and does not even bat an eyelash at the mayo that appears out of nowhere. This is all very pleasantly normal, and he likes it. "I was surprised they had here!"

That particular onigiri had umeboshi in the middle of it. Does mayo and salty-sour plums go together? He is not sure and he does not want to find out, but he is watching for Nitou's reaction when he properly hits the middle. "What, only 'not bad'? Better than from back behind a convenience store, I hope!"

[infinitemayonnaise]

"You bet it's better than convenience store dumpster diving!" He's made it to the middle of the onigiri, and judging by the look on his face, mayo goes great with umeboshi, at least in his world. "Where did you find umeboshi?"

And now he's eyeing the rest of the onigiri, looking for more.

B

[bravelyplucked]

It is not an uncommon sight for District 2's Mentor to be hanging around the Training Center, watching Tributes do their thing. District 2 has been doing well these Games, meaning that there are fewer Tributes for him to fuss over right now.

Haruto's training catches his attention. He'd seen the man's last death, of course. Thor was one of District 2's...not that Torin had anything to do with that training. Torin wouldn't mind helping, even if it wouldn't be in his District's best interests. He's more concerned about the conscripted offworlders as people moreso than District ties at this point, though he dares not mention that to anyone.

But Haruto might feel a set of eyes watching him as he gets knocked around by those simulated opponents, and Torin's actually slightly shaking his head at some of that. Your form needs work, Haruto. Lots of work.

[wizardplease]

His concentration is so intense that he doesn't notice those eyes on him, at first. Not until yet another attacker with a spear gets through his defenses (always the ones with the spears, damn it, and he's been trying harder with those...), the buzzer sounds to indicate failure, and the simulation halts and waits to be prompted for another round. He lets out a long breath of frustration, tries rolling some tension out of his shoulder... and it's then that he catches that disapproving head-shake.

"...I'm working on it." He knows its bad. You don't need to tell him, old man.

[bravelyplucked]

"All on your own?" There's another shake of Torin's head. You don't know what you're doing, wizard boy. Such a shame... "You're not going to get anywhere with a stance like that." He actually sounds regretful at that. "You're not really used to ranged combat, are you?"

[wizardplease]

"I'm used to it." There's still space between them, so he takes a moment to twirl his sword in a way that suggests he's at least used to handling the thing. "I'm just used to being stronger and faster than this." He can't be the only one limited like this, can he? And surely this guy can't be seeing it for the first time? "...what should I be doing with my stance?"

Even if Haruto is feeling defensive, he wants to learn. He needs to.

[bravelyplucked]

"Outside of the Arena? Really?" However did you survive, Haruto? Torin's thinking that, and it probably comes through in his tone. Magic rings can only get you so far, kid. "You're not carrying your weight evenly." Torin shakes his head. "You're leaning a bit to one side, and you're keeping your feet too close together. Makes you easier to knock over with that spear." There's a bit of a shake of Torin's head with that; how sad that Eleven's mentor couldn't handle something so simple for this kid.

c;

[soultospare]

Megan had thought about Haruto a lot, because he'd been friendly to her and he'd saved her life back in the space station. They were friends, and she wanted him to do well in the Arena, even if she'd more or less let herself get stupidly caught up on Jason. She liked Haruto. She thought he was a sweetheart. But she also liked bad boys, a lot.

Still, her face lit up when she heard Haruto call her name from across the lobby. Mindful of her wings knocking anyone over, she turned around and closed the gap between him, smile bright with genuine happiness.

"Haruto!" She trilled merrily, Welsh accent making his name sound almost like a song. "You're back! I'm so glad! I mean, not glad that you died, but I'm glad you're back again!"

[wizardplease]

He might have the leather jacket and tight jeans and motorcycle of a bad boy, but alas, it covers up a boy scout's heart. As much as he's trying to keep his smile reserved and his actions cool and composed, it's not happening. Her excitement, her smile, her happiness at seeing him... him, of all people, right? It's him and not just how she'd greet everyone? Right?

He needs to take a moment to remember to breathe. And in the process of remembering that, he's dropping the cool act and smiling in much the same way that she is.

"It's fine! It's fine. You didn't miss much." He wasn't happy that she had died so soon, but there was comfort in knowing that Megan had been safe from the worst of it all. "I'm glad to be back, too. I wanted to thank you. For, aah... for the blanket." Yes. It needs clarifying, absolutely. So he's clarifying it.

[soultospare]

Her laugh was high and cheerful, like a chirping songbird, and she gently patted his forearm in a warm and open way. "You're welcome! I hope you were at least a little warm in the Arena. It looked so awfully cold. I was worried you might freeze to death if I didn't pull a string or two, and you know I just couldn't stand to see you shivering!"

Megan laughed again, a real and honest laugh. "You're safe and warm now, and just in time for spring, too!"

[wizardplease]

"I was as warm as it could get, camping in the snow." He's laughing too, a little bit out of excited nerves. There's room here to say something cool, possibly involving how thoughts of her kept him warm but... but no. Instead his voice rises momentarily in pitch and his eyes widen. "Really?! I, I mean, you didn't need to worry about me. Not that much."

Spring, there, that's a good thing to be talking about. He laughs in a slightly more controlled fashion and nods. "Right. In time for a lot of things. Uh... do you have White Day, where you're from? Probably not, but..." He clears his throat to gloss over that awkward conversational detour, and dips into the shopping bag that he's carrying to produce a box wrapped in pink and silver paper. "I thought I'd get you something."

A

[a_minute_younger]

One of the fastest things that will draw Gary out of his room is the sound of someone messing with kitchenware. It's late (if anyone would classify 'noon' as 'too late to be wearing pajamas;' Gary is not part of that collective), and the sound on his Panem-brand Gameboy is turned up loud enough that it chirps through his door, but these apparently aren't enough to keep Gary from listening. Within a minute of rifling through the cabinets the game music stops, and a minute later, Gary's door swings open and he comes trotting into the main lounge.

He'd been expecting to see Milla. Seeing Haruto instead, here instead of on the television, instantly makes the smile on his face split into a wide, enthusiastic grin.

"Haruto!" Gary cries, bounding into the kitchen. If Haruto isn't careful he is going to get a tight hug from behind. "About time!"

[wizardplease]

Haruto's first reaction to being grabbed is to stiffen up and prepare to grapple whoever it is. He's fresh out of an arena and still not back to his particular variety of normal. But the moment that it registers with him that it's Gary, of all people, he just playfully elbows backwards and laughs. Laughs, of all things. He's not sure where that laughter's coming from, but there it is.

"You!" He lets that hug linger for a moment, but is soon twisting and trying to break free from it so he can turn himself around and face the guy. "What, you've been sitting here waiting for me to lose?"

[a_minute_younger]

Haruto isn't completely free from Arena-based grappling, as Gary attempts some minor variation of it when Haruto elbows him and squirms around to escape. Gary doesn't think about what kind of signal this sends, or how Haruto initially flinched when he was grabbed--all he's aware of is that Haruto's laughing, after an Arena of all things, and this is such a pleasant change from the norm that Gary nearly considers squeezing him tighter and refusing to let go.

Thankfully, he reconsiders. Gary allows Haruto to leave, but Gary does not leave his personal bubble and makes frequent attempts to prod him in the shoulder. "We both knew it was gonna happen eventually, right?" Gary teases with a firmer shove. "Nah, but really dude--you made it a while! Good job and all that shit."

[wizardplease]

There's a tribble to account for in all this mostly-playful wrestling, and it is having none of it. Shunpei leaps for the counter with an anxious burble, leaving Haruto free to fight back a little more forcefully. A little more. His panic is rapidly receding, mostly because it's Gary of all people doing this.

"What? You weren't cheering for me to win?!" Gary gets a mock-indignant shove back. He's not departing from the kitchen just yet. He's hungry, after all, even if it's less about his stomach being empty and more about wanting to eat something normal. So he dodges all that shoving and harassment while opening the fridge up to see what's inside. "Not too much longer than you did. But it wasn't a bad run, huh?" And after a pause to move a few things aside, "...is there anything good in here?"

A

[president_evil]

District 11's resident victor wasn't a common sight in the kitchen. His dietary habits while not unique in the Tower, they were certainly particular. He had no need for regular meals, taking only those he did for the physical enjoyment of it. Taste, touch, scent...

What he did need, came twice a week, with the regularity of a Swiss train-station.

Equally clockwork, Wesker appeared, tall and straight and broad, in the doorway - almost like a missing stone block, sliding into place.

Behind the lenses of his glasses, the serpentine eyes traveled over the kitchen - nose wrinkling slightly at the state - then they landed on Haruto and narrowed.

"You should have specified," he said suddenly, that smooth dry purr out of no where, without preamble. "Perhaps the sponsor would have gotten his money's worth if you'd asked for a kitchen knife."

[wizardplease]

Just the act of Wesker stopping in the doorway and bothering to pay him mind was remarkable to Haruto. He stopped midway through molding another rice ball and stared right on back, surprised and expectant. The man hadn't bothered to pay him any direct attention until now. What was bringing this on?

Oh. That? Seriously? The look on Haruto's face shifts subtly, surprised eyebrows lowering. "The knife helped me kill that sabertoothed tiger. Which got me a gun, if you didn't notice." There's a little inclination of his head, a 'you follow me?' kind of gesture, and he resumes shaping that onigiri. He is not in the mood to accept critique over death arena performance, especially considering that the 'death' part of said performance is such a fresh memory.

[president_evil]

"Which got you...?"

He waited, a long, uncomfortable beat - as if Haruto might be able to change what they both knew to be true - then he moved. Confident easy steps forward, into Haruto's space at the counter. Casual intimidation as he pulled open the refrigerator and reached for the dish inside, specially marked with his name.

"I'll tell your benefactor the problem is follow-through, and perhaps he'll believe it enough to be willing to throw away his money again next arena."

[wizardplease]

"Matched up with an actual god." Yes, he's feeling defensive. All the more so because Wesker's criticism has a point, unpleasantly-stated though it might be. He had brought a rifle to a spear fight and lost because he couldn't aim it under pressure. He is forming that rice ball a little more forcefully now. And not conceding an inch of counter space.

"Have you given everyone else the same talk?" Not the most mature thing, to turn it around on his districtmates, but he has to counter with something. "I thought we did a better job, overall, than the last time. Isn't Milla still in there?" Not a happy thought, that... but one that meant that 12 might still possibly win.

B

[belongsontv]

Milla comes in the training center while Haruto is switching stations, which stalls out her natural greeting as the man practices against holographic opponents. Her own training can wait for the moment. It's likely one of the few times she's not dressed to kill, simply in workout clothing with her hair tied into a tight bun.

She has to smile as she watches him go, moving to just watch her district mate go. His form is good so far, only a few openings the holographic attackers take advantage of.

When he finishes for now, she speaks. "Very good, darling. You just need to adjust your stance a little."

[wizardplease]

There's a quick bit of tension in him when he hears Milla call out. Criticism isn't easy to take as-is. Her particular motherly brand of fussing feels like too much for his battered dignity to take right now. But it fades quickly. Reason is sinking in, and the old habit of showing that nothing's wrong is hard to shake. He lowers his sword and turns to her, face... more blank than anything else.

"How?" He's a bit breathless, and speaking quickly. A moment later, he adds, "How should I adjust it?" He needs help. He does. He knows it. If she's offering, he'd be dumb to refuse.

[belongsontv]

She takes up a stance, clearly practiced and solid. "See like this-? You're weak here." She weakens her stance, mimicking what she saw him do earlier. Followed by her correcting it.

"Take up stance, dear, so I can help you feel it as much as see it." For all her fussing normally, she's all serious here. Milla's secret agent side more clearly coming out.