Author's Note: Hello! Um... I'm very sorry that I haven't updated any of my stories for a while... I had another week of tests (Please get used to it...I have five weeks of tests in one year, and five weeks of test preparation days, so about ten weeks of each year is wasted-sorry, honorably used-as nonFanfiction days.) That, and my computer broke down. It's still broken, but...it's managing. For today.
Anyways, this is my new multi-chapter story. The idea isn't very original; I've read a bunch of Percy-Jackson-in-the-Hunger-Games Fanfictions, but I couldn't help it. I just love these two books. I promise I'll make it as original as I can.
And uh...I think that's it. Yeah.
Disclaimer: The setting belongs to Suzanne Collins, and the characters mostly belong to her and Rick Riordan. Please enjoy!
District four stains in orange as the sun slowly lowers itself into the ocean. Another day on the calendar is ticked off. It's unfair.
His father playfully shoves him in, and Percy surfaces, grinning. The water doesn't bother him; it's his home. The drops of water reflect the sun, glittering as they fly back down. He ducks under, propelling forward with his feet, and he reaches the sandy bottom before he pushes hard, splashing his father as he flips near the boat. His father's eyes roll behind the dark sunglasses, but Percy knows he finds this fun. He doesn't bother climbing aboard, and chooses to swim to shore instead.
As usual, his father hands him a fourth of the catch. For your mother, he says. Percy grins in thanks. When they push through the wooden doors of his house, his mother greets them with her sweet smile, wiping her hands on her apron. When Percy shows her the net full of fish, her smile becomes even more radiant.
"Oh, Poseidon, you shouldn't have."
His father gives a deep laugh, scratching the back of his neck; a habit inherited by his son. Percy trudges past them and into the kitchen, cleaning the fish as he watches his parents talk from the counter. He finds it funny how his parents still seem love each other, even when his father has a wife. A legally wedded one, that is. One that hates Percy and his mother, but he can't blame her. He bets he would hate them too, if he were in her position. Percy shudders; the image of himself as a wife to his father is...disturbing, to say the least.
"Can't you stay for dinner? It's the least I can do."
"You know Amphitrite and Triton wait for me at home."
His mother rubs her hands together, and Percy knows that she is looking for an idea. He pokes her in the back and thrusts a well decorated box to his father.
"It's from us, as a thanks. For letting me work with you, paying me well, and all that."
Poseidon raises his eyebrows, chuckling at his son's gleeful look. Gingerly, he opens it, and roars in laughter.
"Thank you, Sally. My family will enjoy this very much. It's their favorite treat, you know."
Percy sneakily grabs one blue colored cookie, munching on it as a sigh escapes his lips.
"Percy! It's for your father! Put that down right now!"
His mother tries to look scolding, but a smile tugs on her lips.
"Oh you-"
She ruffles his hair before kissing his forehead, making him whine, but he quickly leaves after that, letting his parents enjoy whatever time they had alone. It was more fun talking to his cousin anyways.
.
When he enters his room on the second floor, he finds his cousin sprawled on his bed, one eye opening blearily to stare at the intruder of his beauty sleep.
"Urgh."
Percy rolls his eyes, pushing Nico off his bed.
"Get off my bed, you sleepy head. We've got work to do."
At that, Nico shoots up from his crumpled form on the floor, bumping heads with Percy.
"If this is what work is like...man, I love work."
"Just like you love me?"
Nico rolls his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets.
"In your dreams, loser."
They race down the sandy path of their small town and onto the hard concretes of the district center. It's nearing nightfall, but the town stays bustling, unlike their quiet beachside home.
"Look where you're going!"
They grin, high fiving each other as they rush into their favorite place; the market. They split up and join again five minutes later, Percy with a coconut in his hand and Nico with a fistfull of jangling coins. Percy's just about to say Nice, but a strong pair of hands grab the scuffs of their necks, making Nico squirm.
"Jackson...You really shouldn't be teaching Di Angelo these things, you know. If your fathers find out, he'd have your necks."
Percy turns around grinning before doing a special handshake with the marketplace man, Hermes.
"I only learned from the pro himself."
Hermes dips his head in a mocking bow, but he thrusts out his hand.
"You guys are getting better-just not quite the best. Gotta be more sneaky next time. Give me the coins, Nico. Come on, I've got customers to take care of."
Once he takes the money from his cousin, Hermes turns to leave, giving a subtle wink to a confused Percy.
"Consider it a good-luck gift."
Nico stares greedily at the fruit, and Percy lifts it up, out of the eleven year old's reach. He pouts, but relents when Percy promises to share.
The dinners before the Reapings are always quite a feast.
.
Percy lies on his bed, listening to Nico's silent breathing. He's never been able to sleep the night before the Reapings. It's his third year, and the hours of this night kill him with nerves. His name in in the bowl a meager three times. The possibility of him getting picked is one in thousands. Being one of the richest district, the older boys put their name in dozens of times, wishing for a glory they are so sure of achieving. They train, they fight, and they live for this purpose. His step-brother, Triton, is one of the strongest in Career training. Percy contemplates his chances of going into the games before erasing it from his mind. Bad thoughts, Perseus, Bad thoughts.
The only thing that calms him down is the fact that Nico will not be picked. Reapings start from twelve, and-thank goodness-Nico's still too young. He watches his cousin sleep (not in a creepy way, of course; he's not that weird), and fiddles with his hand, wishing he could rest that well. Making sure to keep quiet, he sneaks past the young boy and down the stairs, grabbing a glass cup from the boards on his way to the kitchen.
He nearly jumps out of his skin when he rounds into his mother, and her gentle smile has almost him running into her embrace. He catches himself at last moment, of course. That's the important thing.
"Are you scared?"
Percy lets out a dry chuckle.
"I shouldn't be. The chances of me being picked are tiny, and...I...I'm fourteen. Fourteen years old guys should be proud to go into the Games. 'nd maybe even bring our district the glory of victory. Why am I so…urgh, weak?"
His mother laughs, patting his head. It feels good, actually. Not that he'd ever admit that.
"When I was your age, I used to be so scared I refused to leave my house on Reaping Day."
Percy makes a face, and his mother laughs.
"I was always so scared, compared to my friends. I hated this. I didn't want to die. I cried and screamed and hung onto the door until the Peacekeepers had to come pry me off." She chuckles, "I never got called though. Thinking back, it's so embarrassing. My chances of being picked were even lower than yours, Percy. Even now, when my mother's friends see me, they call me Crybaby Sally. They mean it in an endearing way, of course, but I can't help being embarrassed each time."
Sally glances at the watch, and ushers him back into his room. She gives him a final peck on the forehead and ruffles his hair.
"I love you."
Percy can't help the grin that appears on his face.
"Love you too, Mom."
The next thing he sees is the rising sun. Somehow, it doesn't seem as bright as usual.
