Disclaimer: We do not own Haikyuu! or the Hunger Games series.

In Penance For Their Uprising:

As a reminder of the rebellion against the Capitol, each of twelve districts shall offer up two tributes—a male or female between the ages of twelve and eighteen— at a gathering known as the public "reaping". This is the price the districts must pay for their wrongful betrayal against the Capitol. Following the public "reaping", these tributes shall be delivered onto the custody of the Capitol, wherein they will be transferred to an open arena—then fight to the death—until only one or two tributes from the same district win.

Henceforth and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games.

1. Sugawara, Koushi

"You're worrying about nothing." He says lightly, chuckling a bit and waving his hands. There is a harsh chill in the air, just as there always is during this time of year. They are sitting motionless at the edge of a ravine, gazing at what seems to be an endless field of golden grass before cutting off abruptly by a rusted, chain-link fence. It served as a partition, blocking off hills that were blanketed with evergreen forests that signified freedom outside of their district. It was here where they often came to think, to decompress and to escape the burdens of everyday life. It was a place they deemed to be just for them, a haven of sorts, to focus on themselves.

Here, where freedom was almost too close.

The lighter-haired one of the two curls up to blow warm air into his shaking palms, often the one to constantly seek ways to keep warm. He has a light blue scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, which seems to be the only part of his body that isn't outwardly shuddering in cold.

The other frowns for a moment, his concern not yet completely washed away.

"Koushi…" Daichi voices quietly.

"It was a dream." Sugawara adds somewhat dismissively—but it's in a way that isn't off-putting or insulting to the other. "We'll be all right. It's the last year our names are going to be in the reaping bowl." He pauses, rubbing his hands together before smiling up at Daichi. Sugawara's eyes are gentle, and somehow it momentarily gives Daichi the strength to allow his worries to dissipate.

Daichi inhales deeply, as if struggling to physically dispel his troubled thoughts through a single breath.

"It'll be okay," Sugawara promises, softly nudging him with his shoulder. His voice is barely above that of a whisper, his radiant brown eyes half-lidded and relaxed.

Hesitating, Daichi glances over at Sugawara again. Daichi seems placated, and soon he nods hesitantly.

With that, they turn their full attentions back to the view in front of them, in quiet contemplation of how life would be without the constant fear of reaping day.

The conversation has ended, and they sit in silence.

"Sugawara Koushi."

He can hear the faint rustling in the distance, the beginnings of a virtually tranquil crowd gradually evolving into a maelstrom of unrestrained cries and pandemonium. He can sense the chaos ensuing, bubbling lightly at first, before erupting all around him. He stands confused, with his feet frozen to the ground and his arms tight against his sides at an utter loss of what to say or do.

Slowly, his eyes are widening with realization while his lips move to form a small 'o'.

Everything goes quiet.

Mute.

Where he stands, he can see with his own eyes that people are kicking fiercely, their mouths distorting into what he perceives to be blood-curdling screams. Their eyes, their faces are contorted into what could only be described as pure anguish. Their limbs are struggling to break free from the peacekeepers, pushing and jerking away. Families are weeping in despair, others shaking, crouched down onto the dirt and holding their loved ones close.

He tilts his head, regarding the scene playing out in front of him. He realizes with time that things haven't gone quiet; his mind just simply cannot comprehend it.

He wills himself to move, to do his part in ending this turmoil, but his feet refuse and cannot comply. Sugawara swallows, re-imagining the twisted faces in the crowd, how terrified they'd been seconds before, but are now shattering and screaming for him. This transpired every year because despite everything, the district never truly wanted to surrender one of its own. The peacekeepers had to compensate for the reaction, spreading out evenly to keep movements amongst the people as restricted as possible. It is at this time that Sugawara experiences the feeling of having dread washed over one so rapidly –with barely even a second to react.

Conjointly, he knows he cannot expose his fear for all the world to see.

He needs to be strong.

It is not long after when he feels the cold, callous hands of the peacekeepers, wrapping their gloved fingers on his arms, dragging him up to the front, towards a stage suspended above this madness. He goes willingly, though his feet are still having trouble complying, now substantially heavy and slow. Sugawara can feel his fists begin to clench and shake at his sides while his throat hitches in response.

He is going to do this.

As he is hauled across the dusty, barren path towards the platform, he locks gazes with several of his friends, taking a moment to register each one for what he believes to be the last time. He is almost calm, almost accepting of the situation presented onto him— until he sees Daichi. He recalls the earlier events of the morning and immediately frowns to himself, inwardly wincing at his outright dismissal of his friend's concern.

Sugawara is inclined to turn his head away remorsefully, to acknowledge the fact that he was wrong, but he can't bring himself to look away. Instead, he gazes at Daichi, in a hasty attempt to both apologize and comfort him wordlessly. Sugawara nods stiffly, smiling a smile that is both kind and determined because at least it was him, and not Daichi and not the others.

Sugawara's mind can still barely comprehend the situation; the shock has hardly even settled in. Peacekeepers are shuffling aside him, yanking him roughly from side to side, with one hand still clutching his upper arms as they use their free hands to aggressively shove any protesters away.

Daichi's head is down and facing the ground, with a heavy shadow cast over his face, covering his expression entirely. His fists are clenched decisively, but he isn't shaking. There is absolutely nothing in Daichi's body language that even remotely hints at fear. He seems resolute, though Sugawara cannot be sure why.

"Move it along," growls a peacekeeper, shoving Sugawara forward, knocking him in the back. Grunting a bit, and ready to continue, Sugawara steps ahead, his gaze still unable leave Daichi. His eyes continue to dart back at him, despite Sugawara's every effort to focus on the events at hand.

He was sure he saw Daichi's lips move.

Daichi was saying something.

Sugawara blinks to himself and for a split second, he has a flash of lucidity.

What did he just say?

Immediately after, he is carelessly propelled towards the stage. He stumbles onward haphazardly, his feet twisting beneath him, trying his best to straighten his shoulders and lift his head up high.

He is ready. This is it.

Sugawara's eyes are now fixed on the escort, a man with thick, square-rimmed glasses wearing a peculiar outfit. Capitol Couture, he thinksthey called it. The escort smiles brilliantly at him. Oddly, Sugawara cannot feel any real hatred or condescension from the man.

There is constant talk about the various types of people inhabiting the Capitol. One thing Sugawara learned growing up was the Capitol's notion of self-importance, their superiority above all the districts. The districts are inhuman and beneath them, so of course, they'd feel disgusted merely even mingling with them.

But this smile feels ironically genuine. Genuine and…, somehow oblivious.

The escort is reaching out a hand, beckoning him forward, while holding the microphone in his other hand. He has goldenrod wavy hair, but seems to have small, shimmering flecks of turquoise in it. His suit is tailored and dark, but in the sun, like his hair, it shines iridescent hues of blue and green. It reminds Sugawara of the insides of the 'Mother of Pearl' seashells that he used to collect with his deceased mother.

Straightening up, he shakes his head clear of his thoughts, before finally looking forward to the crowd. His mouth is drawn into a thin line, but his eyes are unwavering. His prior confusion is gone and all that is left is a sense of determination and obligation. He can do this, because it's him, and it's not any of them.

The escort, Takeda Ittetsu, he thinks the man said upon introduction, is waving towards the crowd, blathering on about something Sugawara chooses not to listen to. The escort is excited, attempting to minimize the smile tugging up at the corners of his lips.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

The escort pauses, mouth left ajar, with his head slanting slightly to the side. The entire reaping scene becomes silent—so silent that if a person were to whisper, it would probably be heard in volumes. Takeda tentatively takes a step forward, almost disbelievingly, as the crowds around the voice murmur and pull away. Takeda cranes his head forward. "Did I just hear-"

"I volunteer as tribute." The voice is clear and unwavering.

Behind his glasses, Takeda no longer endeavors to conceal his exhilaration. His smile has broken out in full, the hand with the microphone shaking with anticipation. "A… a volunteer?" He repeats the statement, as if making sure he didn't misunderstand.

Sugawara's eyes widen upon realization.

No.

"We…" Takeda grins readily, his other hand clenching, pumping aside him in an enthusiastic manner, as if he was just presented with a new toy. "We have a volunteer! Please, come up!"

Sugawara begins to feel the stirrings of panic, anger, and fear travel throughout his mind and body. Before he knows it, he is stepping forward hurriedly to make eye contact with the volunteer, barely able to utter the thoughts forming in his mind.

When he sees Daichi break away from the ground, making his way to approach him, Sugawara panics, biting down on his bottom lip, clutching his blue scarf in tandem.

Responding, Sugawara straightens. "NO! I-"

Takeda, who is not even looking at Sugawara at this point, makes a slight sway with his hand, motioning for the peacekeepers to take him away. The eager smile on Takeda's face never wavers.

"NO!"

Sugawara is aggressively ripped off the stage, earning a bloodied cheek for his disobedience. He is struggling even more, propelling himself away from the peacekeepers to run frantically towards the volunteer.

"Daichi! What do you think you're doing?! Don't—" He is abruptly drawn away, not by a peacekeeper, but by Asahi, one of his closest and dearest friends. Slowly but forcefully, Sugawara is half-carried and half-dragged back into a wave of people to simply watch as the events unfold.

NO! His mind screams. His arms and legs twist and yank at his friend, demanding to be freed. He can hear a grunt from Asahi behind him, reacting to Sugawara's elbow thrusting into his chest. Asahi only tightens his grip, securing him.

"Keep quiet," Asahi says softly— almost inaudibly, his fear clearly affixed onto his face, "if you keep this up, it won't matter that Daichi volunteered for you."

Sugawara understands what Asahi is saying.
He's saying not to make Daichi's sacrifice in vain. Sugawara may not be going to participate in the games, but the guards would not hesitate to kill him anyway for insubordination.

Sugawara knows this.
But he can't.
He can't keep quiet and stand idly by while Daichi throws away his life.

Halfheartedly, he pushes Asahi's arms away from him and steadies himself to protest, planting his feet into the ground.

"Suga", another voice pipes in. "Don't." There is a certain tone in the voice of the smaller person standing next to Asahi, and it's a resounding tone of futility.

Stop.

There's nothing we can do.

Daichi is standing on the stage now, barely even sparing the escort a second glance. Takeda is inspecting him, curiously eyeing him from head to toe. He seems to be waiting for something, for a dramatic story alluding to why he had chosen to volunteer. Takeda remains there for what seems like hours, glancing at Daichi, fidgeting in suspense of what amazing details may lie ahead.

After a few moments of Daichi maintaining his stoic, expressionless stance, it is obvious that Daichi intends to say nothing. This, however, does nothing to quell Takeda's enthusiasm. To Takeda's credit, he is still smiling elatedly despite Daichi's unfriendly frown and stern, hard stare into the crowd.

Daichi's eyes never meet Sugawara's.

"The district's first volunteer!" Takeda echoes into the microphone. He pauses in delight, eyes teeming with emotion, before breaking into exuberant applause to emphasize his euphoria.

When met by silence, Takeda gulps nervously, clearing his throat sheepishly before dusting off his suit in effort to subtly transition to the next chosen participant for the Hunger Games. "And now for the second tribute…" He lifts his hand with stunning panache, tugging lightly on the cuff of his suit, as graceful fingers reach deep into the glass bowl full of names.

.

..

...

Sugawara rushes towards the door, slamming it open, causing it to crash against the wall, then ricochet back towards those following after him. He knows they only have a few moments to say their goodbyes.

"Daichi, damn it!"

Upon entering, Daichi has his back faced to them, gazing out a small window inside the room he is contained in. He turns when he hears their footsteps approaching, hastily making their way towards him. At first Daichi is reticent, glancing briefly at Asahi and Nishinoya, both not speaking, then refocuses his attention on Sugawara.

"Why'd you volunteer?" Sugawara has his fists clenched so firmly that his hands are gradually turning white. He is gritting his teeth and lifting his head in defiance, near angry at the situation. Sugawara's voice is rising with the diminishing control of his escaping emotions. "I COULD'VE HANDLED IT—"

"KOUSHI," Daichi replies, in a voice that matches the tone of his own. "Stop it. I want this. I'd… rather this." He is glancing down thoughtfully before looking up at Sugawara, eyes firm with the resolve Sugawara saw earlier. "You can't change my mind."

Sugawara initially balks at Daichi's resolve, staring into Daichi's expression of determination. He curls his fingers into an even tighter ball as the overwhelming futility of the situation crashes down and paralyzes him. He can't do anything to help Daichi. Nishinoya was right. There is nothing he can do.

Before Sugawara even notices it himself, his fists are slowly uncoiling. His throat is choking and he can feel his eyes glaze, stinging and starting to tear. "Daichi…" There is a crack in Suga's voice, and he is trembling.

He freezes when Daichi pulls him into a strong, all-encompassing hug.

"Take care of everything here", Daichi says quietly. "You can forage the forests for food and herbs. Get some help from Noya and Asahi, they might be able to trade or spare some cheese and milk." He glances up at Asahi for confirmation, and Asahi nods silently, mouth drawn into a thin line, as the corners of his lips quiver, trying hard not to falter. Nishinoya stands straight aside him, his voice mirroring his confidence.

"You can count on us, Daichi."

Daichi makes a soft nod and bows his head lightly, to emphasize his gratitude. He turns back to Sugawara. Sugawara is hiccupping now, both hands fumbling at his scarf, alternating between quiet, gasping sobs to louder, more unrestrained sounds of protests. Daichi regards Sugawara, his words trailing off after realizing Sugawara is having difficulty listening to him through his crying.

It's at this time that Daichi kisses him.

It seems oddly timed and a bit out of the blue, but no one in the room reacts to it. Instead, the dense, deafening silence becomes even thicker.

Daichi and Sugawara's close friendship had always been a just that: a friendship, which up until now, remained platonic, but full of moments that walked the line towards something more. Neither voiced it, neither really deemed it necessary. It went unsaid, but it was clear. There were little gestures here and there, a few caresses and smiles saved for when they were alone that sometimes slipped when they were with close friends. But the whole world is deteriorating around them, and Daichi and Sugawara know what their priorities are. Everyone else comes first.

The priority is to protect everyone else.

Daichi knocks his cheek on Suga's uninjured one, his fists gently lacing through soft, silver locks of hair. He takes a moment to look at Sugawara, then gives him a strained, but confident smile.

Daichi releases him.

"Just in case." Daichi replies, even though Suga does not question the kiss. Asahi and Nishinoya are both looking away in slight embarrassment, both in effort to give them privacy, though neither are surprised by the development.

Sugawara knows that Daichi's words are resonant with the inevitability that this is the last time he will see them and that he will most likely die.

"D-Don't die," Sugawara asserts instead, gasping slightly for breaths, even though he knows Daichi cannot grant this wish with certainty. He is still crying, but he is trying to be strong for everyone else. "Don't die…" He reiterates, with a doleful expression that replaces his traditionally kind and easygoing features. Sugawara lifts his fist, pressing it firmly into Daichi's chest—as he often did from time to time to encourage the other. He does so with much less force than it usually would have, but it is enough to validate his confidence in him.

He keeps his fist there, shutting his eyes.

"Don't you dare die."

Author [M]: There are two of us collaborating on this story. Two brainstorms, one writer, one beta! I just want to say that we do both know the themes of the actual Hunger Games series, but chose to add a little romance to our story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as much as we enjoy working on it! Thank you! : )

Author [K]:Augh, first chapters are always the most difficult—but here is prologue one of two! Thank you in advance for reading it! I just wanted to put out there that this story will play out to focus more on the Haikyuu characters themselves rather than forcing Peeta, Katniss, etc. to be a certain character. Haikyuu characters will be written as per their personalities and their actions will not be exclusive to Peeta, or Katniss, etc.

There will be similar situations that follow the book, others more likely the movie; it depends on what we like better. There will also be changes made to their surroundings, events occurring, etc. The rules in this world aren't necessarily going to be the exact same as the ones in the original Hunger Games and there will most definitely be new scenes.

In addition, everyone is fair game—just because we're writing District Karasuno to be the main characters, it doesn't mean they are exempt from anything. :3

In this world, from the start, two tributes can win as long as they are from the same district. The two tributes can be both male, both female, or one male and one female. The names are taken from one giant vase. Volunteers take precedence. Once a person volunteers, the person volunteered for cannot volunteer for the next tribute. So in this case, Daichi volunteered for Suga but Suga isn't allowed to volunteer for the next chosen tribute.

Also, I'd like to say that sadly, there will be no Tanaka in this story. There's a reason for that, but that's a secret. (The same goes for any other "main" characters in the world of Haikyuu that aren't mentioned.) ^_^

Thank you again for taking the time to read it! We hope you all enjoy!

(And a great thank you to my BETA/the other mastermind of this story! uvu)

P.S. This story will also be available on archiveofourown, under the same penname and title~!