Klein Souhei, 17.
District Five.
Klein Souhei never knew what insanity each new day would bring him.
And that was just the way he liked it.
"Souhei! Hurry up!" the distant, dim voice of Maia called. "We don't have all day to wait around for your ass."
"Yeah, yeah, fuck off," Klein responded as he secured his leg. Satisfied as he heard a soft click, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his favourite jacket. Checking his pockets, Klein pushed into the hallway, moving between a few of the other gang members passing through. Some of them grumbled greetings at him, Klein responding with a nod. He didn't mind the others, but they were nothing more than coworkers to Klein- nothing more than people to complete jobs with, and maybe drink with after.
They weren't people he'd get friendly with, though. Klein couldn't afford that; that wasn't the kind of life he could lead.
"Klein," Maia called, waving him over as he entered the cramped living room. They often bounced between similar safehouses, old apartments and buildings that were long abandoned. This one was no different: the furniture was bare and tattered and the entire space reeked of cigarette smoke and decay. It reminded Klein of a home long since forgotten, a home that wasn't ever really home despite Haruko's best efforts to make it comfortable.
None of it lasted. His father, mother, and sister were all gone just the same. Klein was all that remained. And caught up in his own pity, Klein had very nearly joined them, too - until Maia picked him up off the street.
His life had begun just as his family's ended.
"Earth to Klein," Maia called, snapping her fingers loudly bringing Klein back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm here," Klein shot back, sinking into the chair across from Maia. "What's it looking like? Any jobs today?"
"Yeah, I think I've got something for ya, kid." Maia grinned, offering him a cigarette. Klein took it, and Maya lit both with ease. Taking a long drag, exhaling with a sigh Klein turned back to his friend.
"Hit me with it," Klein asked finally. He hoped it'd be a running job- Klein always enjoyed those jobs, since running weapons or info uptown got him out and about.
"I've got a supply run for you, uptown," Maia explained, taking another drag of her cigarette and blowing a cloud of blueish smoke into the air. "They're having a rough go of it with the Syndicate on their asses."
"Oh, the fuckin' Syndicate," Klein exclaimed. Maia winced slightly as he continued talking. "Screw those guys."
"Yeah, there's only so much we can do though," Maia shrugged. "We just gotta support 'em best we can."
"I'll take it," Klein continued. Uptown was fairly far, but Klein didn't mind the trek. "That's Bohdi's crew, right?"
"As long as they haven't been run out of the place before you get there, yes, it's Bohdi's crew."
"Sweet," Klein nodded, pushing himself to his feet. Maia offered him a large backpack, which he took, swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon."
Maia grinned at him toothily as he dropped the remainder of his cigarette on the floor, grinding it out with the heel of his boot.
"Oi, we're still inside!" Maia called after him.
Klein couldn't help but grin as he slipped outside. He almost dropped the bag as he locked the door behind him- it was heavy, nearly bigger than him. He figured it'd slow him down if anybody got on his ass- which wasn't likely. Klein knew the District like the back of his hand.
That was unfortunate, though, knowing Five so well. It was a shit place to live- disgustingly stark and grey, the air was filled with terrible smog. God, how Klein couldn't stand it. It was monotonous, watching the citizens of Five work themselves to the bone in the factories and still make barely enough to scrape by.
Klein had taken his freedom from those factories the instant he was given the chance. He would never give it back.
Not for that.
Klein remembered when it'd all come crashing down - the night his father was murdered, his crimes exposed. The night every last penny was taken from them, leaving them with nothing.
(What was left of their lives was irreparable. One by one, every Souhei had died because of it.)
(Klein knew it'd be his turn soon enough.)
Once upon a time, Klein had been angry at his father, for what he'd done to them. If Yoko Souhei had been a little bit smarter, he wouldn't be dead. If his mother hadn't been forced to ruin herself- her body, her mind -just to provide for Klein and Haruko, she wouldn't be dead. If Klein and Haruko hadn't been forced to fend for themselves, they wouldn't have been in that factory on the day it exploded. Haruko would still have her life, and Klein would have his leg and his hearing.
(Klein Souhei would've never been forced to conform.)
(If he hadn't conformed, though, he would've never broken from the shackles of his old life. And what would that have made him?)
(Nothing more than a dead man.)
Snapping out of his thoughts for a moment, Klein spotted the train he was waiting for. As it slowed to a stop in the station, Klein grabbed one of the door handles, swinging himself onto a small platform between cars. He plopped down just as the train started moving again, letting his legs swing freely over the edge of the moving platform.
With nothing else to do, Klein lit a cigarette and watched the city pass by. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and despite most of the sky's colour being obscured by grey clouds and smog, it was still a nice enough view.
It didn't change the fact District Five was a shithole, but Klein could look past that for the moment.
Eventually, looming smokestacks of the factories replaced the skyscrapers- it was nearly his stop. Klein ground what remained of his cig out on the metal, pushing himself to his feet. Quickly enough, he realized there weren't many good options off, and so Klein would have to settle for less- spotting a gap mostly clear of debris, save for a few bushes. Tossing the backpack first, Klein braced himself, and then followed.
After a moment of dread, Klein hit the ground, rolling as best he could. Rocks and debris dug into his back as he lay on the ground, staring up at the sky.
"Fuck me," Klein grumbled out loud- god he needed an iced tea - it wasn't like anybody could hear him, but that didn't really matter. Dragging himself to his feet and making sure his prosthetic was still firmly attached to his body. Klein pushed himself to his feet, searching for the bag- finding it just a few feet away before setting off towards the city.
Looking around, all Klein could see was grey- factories rising above his head, the street beneath his feet. Even the dim sky up above was a dull shade of grey.
He hated how familiar it was here; the factory he'd lost his leg and hearing in wasn't so far from where he was now. Klein remembered walking the same streets he stood on now hand in hand with his sister, so early in the morning the sun hadn't even begun to rise. Sometimes he wondered if they'd rebuilt the factory after the accident, but Klein didn't want to go see for himself.
How many accidents like his would it take before something changed? How many children would have to die? Nothing changed. Nothing would ever change. The asswipes who ran Five couldn't care less, and the Capitol was just as ignorant.
It'd run through Klein's mind once or twice that maybe he could make the change. Maybehe could make a difference but still, why would he? He was only one man, only one against all of Five, what change could he possibly make alone?
(One against the world was not a battle Klein Souhei could win.)
He turned a corner, and then another, his footsteps echoing loudly in the dingy alleyway. It was growing darker by the minute, and he almost worried he'd lose the last of the daylight. His hopes weren't dashed, though, as he finally found the building he needed- with daylight to spare. Klein followed the wall of the building until he arrived at a rusted door, rapping his knuckles on it loudly.
"Who's there?" a soft, high voice responded after a few moments.
"Klein, I'm with the Front," Klein responded. I'm looking for Bohdi. I have your supplies."
The door cracked open, and a pale girl with dark hair poked her head out. Klein offered her the bag, swinging it back and forth. After a moment she opened the door further, gesturing for Klein to enter.
"What's your name?" Klein asked as they walked- the quiet was too heavy for his liking, even with their echoing footsteps.
"Oh. Loezan."
"Alrighty," Klein remarked, peering around as he followed her. The place was covered in dirt and grime; it looked like nobody could possibly live here. At least if the Syndicate came looking for them here, it'd be easy enough to hide evidence of their existence.
"Syndicate's hitting you guys hard, huh?"
"Uh, yeah," Loezan nodded. "I mean, they never liked us here in the first place, but they've been cracking down worse recently."
"Fuck that," Klein snorted. He pulled the pack from his pocket once again, finding it empty- he could've sworn he had one more left. "Fuck," he grumbled, stuffing the empty container back into his pocket.
"Everything okay?"
"It's whatever," Klein sighed, as Loezan finally stopped before a door. "Thanks."
"No problemo!" Loezan responded with a grin. "Thanks for the delivery."
"No need to thank me, I'm just doin' my job." Klein smiled, flashing the girl a thumbs up as he pushed the door open into the room. It was small- likely a former breakroom, with tables and chairs scattered around. A boy was seated with his back to Klein, his dark hair pulled up in a bun.
"Oi, Bodhi!" Loezan called. "We gotta visitor!"
"Hey," Bodhi said as he looked over his shoulder. "Thanks, Loe… uh, you can give those to me."
Klein nodded, crossing the room and offering the bag out to the man. Bodhi opened it, rooting through it.
"Everything okay?" Klein asked after a moment.
"Yeah. this is great. There's not a ton of us so it'll last us a bit," Bohdi nodded, finally cracking a tired smile; up close, Klein could see the deep bags under his eyes. "Thanks."
"No problem. Do you have any messages that need to get out? I can take them while I'm here."
"Uh, yeah, do you mind running something back to Maia for me?"
"Not a bit."
"Great. Okay. Would you mind holding on a quick sec?" Bohdi asked; Klein shook his head again.
Bodhi scribbled down a message on a spare piece of paper, folding it up and offering it to Klein . "Here. Thank you, again," Bohdi repeated, as Klein shoved the letter inside his jacket. "I'm sure Loezan can see you out again so you don't get lost."
Klein nodded. He made his way to the door and pushed it open, expecting to find Loezan. Instead, a small army of children peered back at him- none looking any older than Klein himself.
"Hey there," Klein remarked, running a hand through his hair. Spotting Loezan in the cluster, he added, "Mind if I borrow ya again?"
"Yeah!" Loezan exclaimed, waving for him to follow.
"Sick," Klein nodded, following Loezan through the crowd. They all were really just kids. He had been no different just a few years prior; Klein had been a kid eavesdropping on the adults, without a care in the world.
The world didn't care though- it'd ripped it all away from Klein. Those kids didn't deserve such a fate either. But really, how long could they last out here? It was only a matter of time before they'd be wiped out.
(The world would be no kinder to those kids than it'd been to him. That, Klein Souhei knew for sure.)
Neith Verdugo, 13.
District Eight.
Neith curled up smaller, but it wasn't possible to take up less space than they were already occupying. Shakily rubbing their hands together - it was only May, and the nights were cold as ever - they looked to the boy who was crouched down next to them.
"Dice, how much longer?" Neith asked softly. Snyder had said their target wouldn't be any later than twelve, and by Neith's guess it was well past twelve at that point, the moon high in the sky above the low buildings of Eight.
"I don't know," Dice hissed, exasperated, keeping his eyes locked on the scope of his rifle.
"Do you want to swap off for a bit?" Neith asked; Dice had been still as a statue for nearly three hours now, watching over the large estate before them. They'd been lucky enough to find a good building nearby at least. Neith always preferred the missions where they got to hide out inside, almost like a game of hide and seek.
"No." Dice shook his head. "Go… I dunno, go scope shit out downstairs or something. Let me do my job."
"Alright!" Neith responded enthusiastically, stretching out as they stood. They shook themself out, brushing their hair back. "Do you want anything before I go?"
"Water bottle," Dice grunted. Neith reached into their bag, producing the requested item.
"I'll be back in a few minutes; if you need me, just gimme a shout."
Dice didn't respond as Neith clipped their bag around the front of their chest- it felt more secure that way - and wandered down the stairs. It seemed to be an old office building of some kind; clearly, it'd been abandoned for some time. Neith wondered if there was anything interesting left here, but somehow they didn't think so.
It was lonely. Too lonely for Neith's liking- and too dark as well.
It'd been dark the night Neith had set out into the streets of Eight, blanket clutched in their hands. It'd been dark as they wandered, searching for their brother- Patch would never leave them for that long, surely something must've been wrong, maybe Neith could help him even though Patch always insisted that they shouldn't get involved.
It'd been dark when Neith had found a crumpled form, unmistakable despite the shadows cast across his face.
Neith Verdugo had never liked the dark.
"Kid, what the hell are you doin' here?"
Neith's head whipped up at the voice that'd barked at them. They froze as they made eye contact with a burly man, dressed nicely enough- perhaps one of their targets?
"Get outta here, fuckin' street rat," the man continued, moving through the doorway. Neith's hands flew to their hip, unholstering their gun.
Before the man could say another word, Neith shot.
It was no more than a few seconds before he hit the floor, a bullet firmly embedded between his eyes. Neith shakily holstered their gun again as Dice came rushing down, stopping dead in his tracks in the doorway.
"The hell was that?"
"He surprised me."
"He shouldn't have surprised you, Neith. You're supposed to be scouting- didn't you have a silencer on your gun? Everyone in a ten-mile fuckin' radius is gonna know we're here!"
"I guess not," Neith shrugged. "I just reacted. I didn't know that would happen."
"Well, you know what happens when you shoot a fucking gun, don't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know if it had a silencer or not."
"Whatever. We need to stop wasting time and-"
Before Dice could say another word, a loud bang rang out from somewhere further down in the building.
"What do we do?" Neith hissed.
"Run, run! We can get through one of the windows. I'm sure we can get out onto one of the roofs next to us."
Neith nodded, taking off towards the stairs. Their footsteps echoed in the stairwell, as they quickly rounded the corner, racing up the next flight. Neith had never liked running much, never enjoyed the way their lungs burned like fire or how the impact of every footfall sent shooting pain up their legs.
They had no choice. Running was the onlychoice Neith Verdugo ever had.
Skidding onto the next floor, Neith nearly lost their footing, half tripping over a tipped-over office chair. They paused for a moment - no longer than a moment - and as they did, they could hear footsteps following up the stairs - Dice or an enemy? Neith didn't know, didn't want to find out, and so they righted themself and pushed onwards.
The bank of windows was wide open, their glass long since shattered. Peering out, Neith could see a rusted fire escape barely clinging onto the building, no more than ten feet below them.
Neith whipped their head around as a loud crack rang out. A second man, dressed nearly identically to the first pushed through the now broken door, barely hanging on to its hinges. Two more men pushed through behind him, flanking the first, and one was carrying something-
"Dice?" Neith asked, blinking at the other boy. Dice was the best, Dice never got caught, and yet here he was caught, caged like some kind of animal.
"C'mere, kid," the man at the front growled. "If you do, we'll leave your little friend here alone."
Neith shook their head, backing up a step and then another, stopping as they heard glass shattering on metal.
"Kid, just make this easy for all of us. You can't survive that fall."
Neith's eyes flicked up, meeting the other boy's - but it wasn't Dice's wasn't broken, wasn't beaten and defeated.
This was not the Dice Neith Verdugo knew.
Still, though, the unrecognizable boy mouthed a single word.
Go.
Neith didn't hesitate. they didn't want to die (no, they couldn't die, they were so young- they had so much to live for. Neith couldn't be him, they couldn't be Patch-)
They took another step backward, and in an instant, they were falling. The feeling of weightlessness lasted no longer than a moment before they hit the cold metal of the fire escape. As if barely awoken from a dream, Neith scrambled to their feet, stumbling down the rest of the stairs.
All Neith could do was flinch as a single gunshot rang through the air, sure and final, as Neith had always hated.
They hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye.
"You were never as good as the others."
Snyder's words had been ringing in Neith's ears for days, every minute of every hour of every day since Dice had died since Neith had been pulled into Snyder's office. They'd hated the crushing weight of the man's gaze- the way his every word dug into Neith sharper than the last. They knew they had to do better, had to work harder, and yet Snyder's talk had only confirmed what Neith had suspected for the longest time.
It didn't matter. It didn't matter how hard they worked, how hard they pushed to better themself.
It would never be enough.
Neith knew what happened to those who were not enough - Hale and Valdani and Ortiz - they'd all disappeared, never to be seen again. Snyder had always chalked it up to them running away, or leaving of their own accord, but Neith knew it wasn't true.
"You were never as good as the others."
Neith Verdugo would be next.
They'd be reduced to nothing but another name, written off as a runaway by the man who'd taken them in, who'd saved them, and then turned them into what they were now.
And so, they would go.
Carefully, Neith sat up in their cot, squinting in the dim light at the others. They were all sound asleep, none of them out on missions, so Neith had no chance of running into anybody on their way out. As quietly as possible, they slipped out of bed, stuffing their blanket into the small bag they'd been filling with supplies for the past few days. Scooping the bag up, Neith swung it over their shoulder, padding their way towards the door and gently pushing it open so it wouldn't creak.
The light in the hallway was blinding as Neith quickly slipped through the door, closing it behind them. The last thing they wanted to do was wake any of the others up. The other boys had never particularly liked Neith, and in the days since Dice's death, it'd only gotten worse. The boys would take any small chance they could to drag Neith down; if they were discovered trying to leave, Neith somehow doubted any of them would let it slide.
This would be their only chance to escape with their life. Neith couldn't waste it.
After a moment of blinking in the bright fluorescent lights, their sight returned to them. Neith made their way down the hall, following the familiar path towards the washroom, but they didn't stop there. Instead, they pushed onwards, rounding a corner, and then another towards the doors that would take them to the outside world.
Neith was no more than a minute away from the door as they rounded a corner-
And very nearly collided with Snyder himself.
Neith let out a quiet gasp as Snyder spun around, a grin twisting across his face.
"Verdugo, I was just about to come and visit you, you know?" Snyder laughed, reaching out for them.
But Neith took a step backward- and another, and another, and before they knew it, they were running as fast as they could.
Neith Verdugo could not die now.
They turned a few corners, running on autopilot- what could Neith do? They didn't have a weapon, hadn't dared to try and steal any of the tightly guarded guns. Maybe they could hide and wait Snyder out? But surely they'd be discovered if they hid anywhere in the complex. And all the windows in the rooms were boarded shut or locked. The only true way to freedom was through the door that Snyder was now guarding.
Quickly enough, Neith spotted a familiar door: the supply room. Perhaps they could at least buy some time. Darting to the side, Neith pushed the door open, quickly slamming it behind them and making sure to lock it. They knew Snyder had the keys, but that didn't matter. If it'd only slow the man down a little-
"You can't hide," Snyder's callous voice came through, muffled by the door. Neith didn't bother responding, instead running for the gun racks at the back of the room.
But the door didn't hold. It burst open just a moment later, Snyder's shadow stretching across the room. "C'mere you fucking-" Snyder growled, grabbing for them. Before he could do anything else, though, Neith swiped a gun off the rack, pulling the trigger as soon as it was pointed at Snyder.
The resounding blast of the rifle was nothing compared to the thudding of the man's body hitting the ground.
Neith stepped over his still body, tossing the rifle to the side as they took off running once again. Maybe one day, Neith Verdugo could stop running. Maybe one day, they could finally find peace.
(Did Neith Verdugo even deserve peace, when all they'd ever done was run?)