A/N: Okay, this is a weird one. It's not the regular Lawlight Hunger Games mashup, but hey, it's really fun to write. Hope you like it!

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Chapter 1: The Tower Circenses

Light had always thought his position on the highest floor of the Tower Circenses was an ironical choice.

It was a beautiful room, that was to be sure. Silken sheets, blindingly white walls, blood-red drapes and pillows fluffier than the green cotton candy they sold back in Marble Park in District One (oh, he missed having Sayu nag him to spend his allowance treating her to cotton candy. He never thought he would, but having the freedom to go anywhere…he didn't dare think about it anymore than he already did).

He was grateful. He spent a great amount of his day being grateful. Where he had lived before had been terrible, absolute poverty in the Districts no matter where his father's job as a Peacekeeper moved them. He had spent time in District One, Three, Five and Eleven, with Eleven being the absolute worst, no electricity half the time, forget running water and basic hygiene.

District Five had been where he had spent the longest time, some four years, just before he moved to One. He caught himself missing the place sometimes, the large factories spilling thick smoke into the air, the gravel streets and…the people.

One person.

He still made Light smile sometimes on the bad days, on the days when the boredom caught up with him and he wanted to launch himself off the balcony, getting caught in the force field in complete agony until Snow rescued him and put him in solitary confinement for two months.

Light shook his head as he threw the covers off of his bed, climbing out in his silky nightclothes and checking the time on the alarm clock Snow had so generously provided him with a couple days ago. He didn't know how he had spent so much of time without telling time, but with the Reaping so close (it was today), the President was feeling generous.

The President needed Light to be happy. After all, for the next month or so, it would be Light's time to shine. Light's only time to shine. The rest of the year he spent confined to the Tower Circenses, too valuable to be allowed to actually live.

Not that Light saw any real value in what he was doing.

There was so much more he could be doing with the Death Note, so much more than petty executions and useless spying missions, and especially the waste of time that the Hunger Games were.

Light wished he had never found the Death Note that day, returning from his classes to the squalid apartment in the Capitol's main square that his father had managed to scrape up for his senior year so that he could have a diploma from a legitimate Capitol high school.

Picking the notebook up had been a mistake…but it had been so typical of him. His idiotic optimism and need to cleanse the world of the selfish people he saw every day, it was who he was. He'd just never thought he could have been caught so easily.

It was all Sayu's fault, everything was always Sayu's fault (no, he couldn't blame her. If he hadn't saved her, he would probably have succeeded at becoming the God of the New World, and with all the introspection he had been doing in this ivory tower, he realised just what a terrible thing that would have been).

He was lucky they had discovered the Death Note could only be used by one person: its owner, Light Yagami.

He had been scheduled for execution, despite his father's repeated pleas for leniency in consideration of his age. After all, Light was just the son of a Peacekeeper born in District Two, not a Capitol citizen, and if that hadn't been enough he had murdered several Capitol criminals escaping justice because of the corrupt system.

If he had known what a crooked man President Snow was, he would probably be dead too.

But luckily (or was it so lucky?), a couple of days before he was to be given the nightlock injection, they had him test the notebook, and realised that it was only when Light's hand wrote the names that the person on the other end obeyed his commands and died.

They had started out using him to assassinate the several leaders of the fledgling rebellion in District Eight, advertising his name as the Capitol's greatest weapon yet.

They had him do a demonstration too, it had been sickening.

This hadn't been why he had wanted to be the God of the New World. He wanted to create a better world, not one where he had people humiliate themselves on live television before they killed themselves.

Of course, that hadn't been enough, so they decided to create the Ultimate Hunger Games, where the tributes who were the most boring were killed off first and having everything predetermined for maximum entertainment value. That way, the tributes did more to be funny, sexy or brutal, and the Capitol got more fun out of the whole thing.

Now that the rebellion was done, this was Light's whole job. He was the sole Gamemaker of the Hunger Games (if he didn't count the several people keeping him under surveillance) and the Reaping was today.

They would expect him down onstage at the City Circle today, if only to stand with his head bowed as President Snow made his speech and patted him on the back.

His father would want him around too. Sayu would be standing for her own Reaping down in Two. She, and the rest of his family, despite moving all over Panem, were still citizens of the District and took a train down to the Main Square every year to attend.

While Light wasn't allowed to leave the Tower Circenses, he was allowed to sit with his father in front of the television and watch his sister stand in the crowd and escape death every year.

It had been two years since his last reaping day in his sixteenth year (the very year they caught Kira), and he still remembered how horrifying it had been. In the flick of a piece of paper and a careless pattering of words from the ditzy escort of Two, his whole life could have been over. His ambitions, his dreams, his studies and mission, all wrenched away from him for a silly game that would most likely end in his death.

Sayu must have been terrified, and Light would like to be there for her however he could (despite her part in his current fate. He didn't blame her, he wouldn't blame her, but nevertheless, it was Sayu Yagami who had put him in here).

Light sighed as he folded his bedsheets over the mattress and sauntered into the shower, punching buttons at random and closing his eyes as the machines washed him up. He hadn't had luxuries like this at any point in his life…he should be grateful.

He was grateful. He was alive and well, and had luxuries like this, how could he not be grateful? The machines towelled him dry and the closet opened up by itself, displaying his wide variety of clothing items: button-up shirts and jackets galore, trousers and ties, shoes and socks, as if he ever had someplace to be going.

He picked out a white shirt and cream-coloured jacket, hoping it would help him blend in with the whiter-than-white backdrop that Snow always had going for him. A quick survey of his damp auburn hair in the mirror and he was ready to be escorted down for the speech. The messenger would come in a few minutes, and the escort in approximately half an hour. He had time for breakfast, and so that was what he would have.

He ordered up a plate of whatever they had cooking, and the Avox turned up in exactly two minutes carrying an omelette and a cup of tea with sugar cubes in a tiny silver pot beside it.

He took it from her with a smile and a nod, which were both returned. She was a nice person, the Avox, and on the worst days, she was his only company, so he was grateful for that as well.

She was pretty, with her long red hair and bright blue eyes, and he could see her checking him out as she cleaned his room on the better days, on the days when he bothered to change out of his nightclothes and sit around the room instead of sulking under the covers for hours and hours.

He wished he could ignore the fact that she was a prisoner just like him but worse, the kind with her tongue mutilated and cut out, a kind of prisoner he could have been if it hadn't been for his cooperation and charmingly pleasant manners towards the president (and the fact that he had taken out many of the president's competitors during his reign as Kira).

"Hey, Rose?" He called out as the redhead started to leave the room. The girl turned, her blue eyes sparkling as she smiled a closed-lipped smile at him. He grinned sheepishly, holding up his omelette tray. "Do you want some?"

They monitored his meals. If he ordered any more than three he would be questioned, if he took any more than two baths a day he would be questioned, if he flung himself from the balcony he would be detained. There were rules in this place, and after two years of this he knew them all too well, as did she.

The Avox cocked her head. Are you sure? He nodded, biting his lip.

"I'm...never hungry on Reaping Days. I really don't mind sharing."

He wanted the company, really. His father was going to be insufferable today, the President would be smug and self-satisfied, the guards would be distant and aloof. He wanted a friend around for just a few minutes before they sent for him.

Rose seemed to understand, giving him a quick nod of the head before sitting primly beside him and taking his fork, cutting into the omelette and taking a huge bite. Light chuckled at the goofy expression she made as she manoeuvred the food around her mutilated tongue. She liked to show off her handicap, it made her feel 'special'. It was weird, yes, but he always ended up making friends with the weird ones.

With a quiet sigh, he picked up the cup of tea and threw in three lumps of sugar…

And three more, and three more.

Rose's eyes grew wide as she watched him, and Light began to laugh. "Nine cubes of sugar is a delicacy, enjoy it while you can."

The Avox cocked her head again, eyebrows raised. Quickly, she drew a Q and a W in the air. Sounds like a quote. Where did you hear that?

Light looked down into his milky tea as the sugar melted in. "Friend of mine liked to say things like that, a long time ago."

A pause as he sipped the tea. It was disgusting, he had never really liked sweet things.

"Today's his Reaping. It should be mine too. My last year."

He knew she would put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. He knew she would give him that faint kiss on the cheek before she put his half of the omelette on the plate and left the tray on his lap.

And he knew she would leave just seconds before the messenger arrived with an order from President Snow to be ready to be escorted in fifteen minutes.

Light polished off his omelette, wishing that flinging himself from the balcony would result in his squishing on the pavement below.