Title: Game
Characters: Cuan, Sche, Amaya/Penka, Hakon/Haakon, Syarnark
Word Count: 2,659
Warnings: Creepy child!Cuan, implied child abuse
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games and the inspiration for these characters comes from another series entirely.
Notes: I'm turning this series into a massive full-length story that spans about 15 years of these characters' lives, so yeah. This is just a little thing about Cuan and Syarnark-how Syarnark got to think the way he does, and I'm trying to get a hold of Cuan's development because he's pretty complex.
There have also been some name changes.
Cuan was the one who taught Syarnark to make a game out of life.
Syarnark came to the orphanage a tearful wreck of a child, still sporting disgustingly blue and purple bruises and dried, crusted blood around his neck where his father supposedly tried to stab him. He cried for three days straight, then fell silent and said nothing at all.
Amaya cleaned his wounds, Sche brought him food, and Cuan read him stories out of the old book of fairy tales he had read as a child until the binding fell apart.
"He won't last long here," Sche said, voice heavy and deadpan, as she leaned her tall, skinny body against the far wall in the communal dining area. The room was filled with anxious, energetic chatter and the thick scent of slightly burnt food.
She looked down as she spoke, blue eyes fixed on Cuan's shorter form as if she could knock some sense into his contented face by force of will alone. Her fingers twitched, but she successfully bit back the urge to slap him across the head.
"It's useless trying to talk sense into him, Sche," Amaya breathed, a smile playing on her lips. "He's gone."
Sche scoffed. 'Gone' usually meant that Cuan had found a new book or activity to lose himself in. Sometimes he even forgot to eat, if it was that interesting. He had never taken such an interest in another person, however.
"He has potential," Cuan so graciously informed them. His voice was soft and high, the mark of a boy who had yet to hit puberty. He was still tiny, still shorter than Sche, but when he stepped away from the wall to dust flakes of plaster off his shirt and pants, Sche saw for just one moment the man he could grow to become.
"'at potential?" Hakon grumbled. Hakon towered over all of them, but when he slouched he was only a little taller than Amaya. He reached out to poke Cuan in the shoulder. "He can't even get 'imself food he's so scared. Sche's right, for once."
"For once!?" A growl worked its way up Sche's throat as pushed herself off the wall, arms unfolding and hands clenching into fists. The thin threads of hunger in her stomach faded as she stalked over to the older teenager. "I am-"
She stopped, not because anyone interrupted her, but because she saw Cuan detach himself from their little group and head in Syarnark's direction. The boy sat at a table near the corner, small shoulders hunched, eyes dry but shifting in fear. He jolted when he saw Cuan approach him, even though Cuan was the closest in age to the boy and generally the least abrasive of the five.
Syarnark had stayed away from them ever since Hakon snapped at him to stop relying on them to bring him food and keep him safe out in the trash heaps where they spent most of their time. He had failed to make a single friend or even grab dinner for himself since that day, which led Sche to make that observation about his survival prospects.
"I wonder what Cuan sees in him?" Amaya said as she motioned for them to get closer so they could listen in on the conversation. Sche scoffed, but followed after the older girl.
Cuan had crouched low to the floor, forearms resting on his legs as he smiled at the younger boy charmingly. He was using his cutesy smile, the one that the rich ladies loved but Sche wanted to smack off his face. Syarnark gave a tenative wave and a weak, trembling smile in return.
"All bets are off if he starts crying again," Sche commented. Amaya jabbed a bony elbow into her side and they fell silent. The rest of the room was growing louder by the moment, but none of them moved to get dinner yet.
"Hey, Syar," Cuan said softly. Syarnark blinked. Not to be deterred by the lack of response, Cuan continued, "You're hungry, right?"
Syarnark nodded. His brown eyes flickered desperately, but he said nothing still, as if Haakon had glued his mouth shut the other day.
Cuan leaned back, rocking on his heels as he pointed to the crowd. "Then how come you haven't gotten anything to eat yet? If you're slow you won't get a thing."
The answer was obvious. The only orphanage in District 3 was large, its budget tiny in comparison. Sometimes the staff syphoned off funds for personal use, or put it towards fixing parts of the crumbling building that, admittedly, needed fixing before it caved in during the next big rain. Either way, there was never enough to go around in terms of food.
That was nothing new. Most of the District was in a similar situation. It made mealtimes a bit treacherous to navigate, though.
Syarnark glanced at the herd - it was basically a herd of kids of all ages pushing and shoving to get something to eat. When he looked back at Cuan, it was with a flat, irritable expression.
Cuan only smiled and leaned closer, pointing at the crowd with one pale finger.
"You're tiny like I was at your age," Cuan told him calmly, not a single hint of rush in his voice. "When I was younger, I used to play a game. It's really fun, trust me."
"A game? Like cards?"
"No, no, more like a sport. All you have to do is sneak over there and snatch some food off someone else's tray!" Cuan's voice lifted as he spoke, his oddly colored eyes holding Syarnark's attention completely. Nothing he said was that exciting or remarkable, but he made it sound like the most interesting game in the world, and that was what counted.
"You mean steal from them?" Syarnark asked curiously. "Isn't that dangerous? What if you get caught?"
"Oh, don't worry about it. You won't get caught," Cuan said.
It was sweet of him to forget to tell the boy that the orphanage's punishment for stealing food was only a little more lenient than the District's when it came to theft.
"The whole point is to steal it without the guy you stole from knowing that you took it until you're long gone. It might take some practice. But if he catches you just make up some excuse, okay? Aaand to raise the stakes a little, why don't you grab enough for us, too?"
"You too?" Syarnark's eyes widened. He looked a little nervous. "But-"
"Sche has been getting you food for the past few days, so it's only right to thank her. But you can't just get enough for one or else Haakon might get mad at you. That wouldn't be good."
Syarnark shook his head instantly. Evidently, he still remembered the man's roar when he got scolded the other day.
"But don't worry, I'm not like Hakon. Let's say, if you 'win', I'll do anything you want in return." Cuan's smile did not widen, but Sche could easily imagine it stretch into a fox's grin. "Think of it as a reward."
"Anything?"
"Anything. What do you want me to do?"
The younger boy thought for a long moment in the way kids are apt to do, as if this was a life or death decision. When he finally looked up, Sche saw no trace of fear in his eyes. All that was left was anticipation.
"Give me a ride on your back!"
Quiet laughter burst from Cuan's lips. Syarnark frowned and crossed his arms, ready to scold the older boy. Six-year-olds really had too much personality. Sche shook her head at the scene, but Amaya seemed pretty amused. Hakon - well, Hakon wandered off. He wasn't too far away, though.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes!" Syarnark nodded sharply, "You give Matiy one all the time and she's older than me!"
"Okay, it's a deal," Cuan smiled. "Now why don't you go, before there's nothing left?"
Sche opened her mouth to intervene - it would be no problem for any of them to steal an extra portion - but Hakon yanked the back of her shirt before she could take more than a step. The sudden pressure against her throat made her stop and choke before whirling around and slapping his arm away.
When she turned back around, Syarnark was gone and Cuan was sitting at the rickety plastic table with a self-contented smile.
"Why'd you tell him that?" Sche demanded. She moved in front of Cuan, hands on her hips, but the twelve-year-old merely blinked up at her owlishly. "He's not going to be able to get enough for himself, let alone all of us."
"I know," Cuan said simply, too simply, as if he was counting on that exact outcome.
His features smoothed out until he was no longer smiling. Sche watched as that remarkable indifference clouded his eyes again.
She knew his intentions in an instant.
If Syarnark returned with nothing, then he would receive one more chance to redeem himself in the future.
If Syarnark returned with only enough for himself, then that would mean the end of their relations with him.
And if he returned with enough for himself and one or two other people…
"You're evil," Hakon said. He reached over to ruffle Cuan's head of dark brown hair, chortling when the boy jumped and tried to swat his hand away.
"I'm not evil," Cuan protested as he slunk away from the older boy's grip. When there was enough distance between them, he straightened out his hair while keeping one wary eye on Hakon.
"You never played a 'game' like that," Amaya said with a hum. She glanced at Cuan. "I was the one who taught you how to steal, but you never turned it into a game."
Cuan faced them and cracked a smile.
"I want him to join us," he said simply, ignoring the adamant protest blooming on Hakon's lips. "He needs to learn to look after himself, but he also needs to know that his actions affect everyone else in the group. There's no better way to teach him that than this method. He'll fail, but he'll feel bad about letting everyone else down. Next time, he'll try harder."
Everything that came from Cuan's lips sounded so easy and obvious. Sche shifted and ignored the fact that this was coming from a boy two years her junior. It was easy to do, if she didn't look at how short he was, still.
"But why call it a game?" Hakon asked.
"So he'll stop being scared," Amaya said slowly, nodding in the direction of the crowd clambering for food. "He was terrified of the others. But when you explained the rules to him, he forgot to be afraid. He's young enough to forget."
"Exactly!" Cuan smiled.
"But wait a minute, for this plan of yours to work…four of us have to starve!?" Hakon leapt over the table, ignoring how the weak plastic groaned under his weight. No one moved to stop him, but he didn't lift a hand to hit the younger boy, either.
Cuan backed up a step and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Yeah, but I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay? I'll do your share of work."
"That doesn't make it okay!" Hakon snapped.
Over a decade of living in this rundown place had honed their senses, but Sche was the first to notice Syarnark break free from the crowd, thin arms holding his stolen bounty.
She crossed the distance between herself and Hakon in two seconds, then used all her strength to shove him to the ground before the young boy returned. It wouldn't have worked normally, but Hakon was unbalanced on top of that table, and he fell to the hard linoleum floors with a crash and a string of curses.
"You're back!" Cuan said, whirling around to crouch before Syarnark. He was smiling. Syarnark was smiling - it was strange seeing his face smooth with something akin to joy, not twisted in sadness.
"That was really fun!" Syarnark exclaimed, eyes wide and bright. Sche could see his thin legs and hands tremble, but there were no lies in those eyes. He went on to explain to Cuan exactly what happened out there with all the pride and excitement a child his age could muster even when he was half scared to death.
She saw Hakon move out of the corner of her eye and moved to jam her foot in his face to silence his protest.
"Mrmph!"
"Is he okay?" Syarnark said in the middle of his story.
"He's taking a nap," Sche said. Her voice was flat, so she doubted the boy really believed her. He seemed to have forgotten all about it in the next second. He was too busy talking to Cuan, who was actually listening to the stupid tale with a silly smile on his face that was so fake Sche could rip her hair out at how gullible Syarnark was.
"It was kinda hard, though…I could only get two pieces," Syarnark pouted, holding out the two small loaves of bread he managed to obtain.
Cuan, though, gave him a reassuring pat on the head. "That's okay. There's always tomorrow, right?"
Syarnark's smile wavered. Though he nodded, the motion was jerky.
"Who do you want to give the other to?" Cuan asked, breaking the boy out of the cloud of guilt hanging over his tiny shoulders.
It was always amusing watching Cuan at work. He didn't give a single hint of his true intentions away as he praised the boy and gave him some advice for next time.
Sche was right. There would be a next time, and a next time after that, and after that. She nudged Hakon, who was rubbing his head and lower back simultaneously, growing and grumbling.
"Told you," she said.
"Shut up."
"Uh…" Syarnark murmured in his childish lilt. The conflict in his eyes was amusing, but as soon as a laugh tried to work its way out of her throat, Amaya was there to glare her into silence.
"Don't worry about offending anyone."
Syarnark shuffled from foot to foot, scuffing the edge of his worn sneakers on the hard floors. He finally held one hand out, nearly hitting Cuan in the nose with the small loaf of bread.
"H-here!"
Cuan blinked. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah! I want to thank you…" Syarnark trailed off, glancing to the side hurriedly so that he wouldn't have to face any of the others.
"Thank me for?"
"For making me not be scared anymore."
"Oh, I see," Cuan said as if this wasn't his plan all along. "But I didn't do anything."
Sche wondered if she could use it against the boy someday. It might be good leverage, but with Syarnark looking at Cuan like he was a hero or something, maybe not.
"Huh? But you did! I wasn't scared at all! How'd you do that?"
Cuan's laughter would have been pleasant to listen to, if not for the fact that Sche had grown up with him and knew him better than that. She knew that none of the joy he expressed was really how Cuan would react if he wasn't acting. He might have given a smile. Maybe.
"I didn't do a thing," Cuan repeated. "That was all you out there. All I did was make up the rules for the game, but you're the one who was afraid and you're the one who got rid of your own fear. Be proud, okay?"
Syarnark returned the smile, but it was genuine and bright, everything a child his age should have looked like every day of his life, not at something so twisted as a twelve-year-old's almost cruel manipulation.
But this was the world they lived in. Sche knew that. Because she knew that, she turned away without a word.
Yeah Cuan was always a manipulative little shit and Syarnark wasn't always as oddly happy as he seems.