The double-layering of memories and feelings is disconcerting, but Prim does manage a smile - if not as ready and without care as her usual sort. "It's fine - I mean, I have time. Would you like to come in, or would you prefer...?" She gestures outside, vaguely. "There's tea in here, or we can go out for a walk. No one's really about at the moment. I think everyone's a bit..."
Prim shrugged one shoulder, figuring he got the picture. Effie and Richard had managed to get away without the memories, but Katniss hadn't, and neither had Prim. And those two had had their own problems to deal with. "Actually, I do have something for you either way."
"Anywhere's fine, really. Tea or a walk both sound good. Where would you be most comfortable?" Chouji is hardly surprised to find out that people here are having trouble coping as well. Setting isn't as important to Chouji as the fact that a conversation happens. At this point he's craving some reassurance that their friendship is intact while he tries to sort out whatever else is between them. He is grateful they don't have to worry about an audience, though.
The second thing she says does surprise him, and Chouji can't help asking, "What do you mean, you have something for me? Like what?"
"Tea, maybe." So she steps aside, gesturing him in. "I've actually got a pot on already, just in case anyone came back..." Though she thinks Effie might have left them for greener pastures, she's not entirely sure. At least Richard and Katniss would appreciate something to drink.
"And it's a present. ...Actually, I'd meant to give you some before..." She waved her hand, trying to gesture to the entire thing that had just happened, before shrugging with an awkward smile. "It'll go with the tea."
"Tea it is." He follows Prim into the house, torn between relief and discomfort at the reminder of how, like him, the other version of Prim was the same person at her core. She has the same kindness and care for those around her as ever. It makes Chouji even more confused about his own feelings, but it's also something solid he can latch onto. Who Prim is didn't change, not really, however the circumstances did.
And she keeps proving that. Chouji smiles, feeling a little awkward about the fact that Prim has a gift for him but nodding anyway. "Thank you, then. I'm glad I finally came over, even if things were... delayed."
"It's all right. I think a lot of people are, oh..." She shrugs, sheepish, before leading him to the table and gesturing to a seat. "You know. There's all these...memories. I didn't actually know Da - Mr. Rogers all that well, before this, you know."
Prim goes to get the tea started as she speaks, since the kitchen's open to the room with the table. Hot water into two cups. The tea bags filled with her own brew. And then she walks back to set those down, one in front of Chouji and one in front of the seat opposite, before returning to get some other things out.
"...And now I know a lot about him. Things he never told me, which...I think, even despite the differences, a lot of it's probably true. ...I can see why people are hiding away from that, maybe." She's not saying she's doing the same, but...she can understand it. "And...even without that, even with people you knew, it's...it took a few days to stop expecting to wake up back home."
She means at the Rogers household.
This time, Prim comes out with a plate of cheese and crackers, which she sets down. "I made it. The cheese, I mean. It's goat cheese. I'd wanted you to try some."
"I didn't know Luke at all, but I'm going to go help him on the farms now that things are back to normal." Shaking his head, Chouji admits, "I had to remind myself that it wasn't home when I saw the fields. Luke isn't my brother. I think I have a new friend, though." Luke still feels like a brother. If Chouji weren't used to calling him by name, Prim wouldn't be the only one slipping. And that is evidence enough that both of them still have feelings lingering from their dream lives during the invasion. Like the ones he has for Prim.
She knows him well. Chouji grins at that. Some things are the same, any version of themselves. Food is the best present. "I'd love to try it."
"I knew Rapunzel, a little, but not so well. But we've agreed we'd like to try to get to know one another like that again." It's a similar admission, although less on family. Prim sits down across from Chouji, pulling her own mug of tea over to her. "I keep having to remind myself of things, too. But it's...getting a little easier. Sort of."
She still feels awkward right now, for example. She wants to crack a joke about something that never happened, some sort of aside for the both of them, or to reach over and take his hand. Instead she takes a sip of tea.
He takes a bite of the cheese, beaming and giving Prim a thumbs up. "It's very good. Cheese is one thing I don't know how to make. We don't really eat it at home, but I like it."
It's hard not offering a hand or getting up to give her a hug. Chouji still feels like any difficult conversation with Prim ought to happen with his arms around her.
He might as well admit it rather than spend their whole conversation skirting the topic. "I still feel the same way about you, at least somewhat. I'm not sure when or if it will go away, or how much of it is even me." Chouji was in love with her before. It might not be love now, but there's still something there that wasn't before. He's quick to clarify, "I don't want to ask you for anything, especially not now, I just wanted to be honest with you."
"I can teach you, if you want." That's easy enough to offer, although she's shy about it. She hasn't really had the chance to teach anyone much of anything, here. Or at home - she was always the one learning, she felt like.
Somehow, confronting the issue head on makes Prim relax just a bit more, even if it's hard and, well - awkward. "...I do, too. At least - I don't know, either. How to tell when things are real or not real, a little. I liked you before, I just don't..."
She shrugged, meaning the same things he'd said. "...I'm at least glad it was you rather than someone else."
The offer surprises him, especially given all the tension still between them, and he smiles almost shyly. "I'd like that."
Chouji sighs in relief at Prim's admission. It doesn't make things easy, of course, but it's one less eggshell to avoid stepping on. Just break them all and trust that there's still at least friendship between them once it's done. With a soft laugh, he tells her, "I am too. Glad. However much of it was real, at least my first girlfriend was a friend, somebody I care about even when the rest of it disappears."
First date, first kiss, first time being in love. Chouji could waste his time wishing it were real, or he could just be grateful it happened at all, and with someone he likes.
Prim does manage a smile there, at the admission. Trust there's still friendship there - that, at least, is something she can do. She likes Chouji, even beyond everything that came with the event. She'd liked him from the minute she'd met him, even though that meeting had also been flavored by an event, and by an inclination to trust. She'd never minded that, even after.
This...is a little different than meeting a friend for the first time. Or a lot different. But - she thinks that if it's them, it'll probably be okay. She could admit she was worried, but she thought she probably had known that Chouji wouldn't avoid her, and that no matter what was real or not real, they had always been friends first. That was real.
"We can...see what disappears and doesn't. And...I guess honestly, I never thought about things like this. At least - I said that to you already, didn't I? Back at the dating. I mean, the speed dating. I never had the time to worry about it at home." And then she'd died, and it had never mattered. "I never really thought I'd ever get to that point."
"Yeah. I wouldn't want to act on feelings that we were manipulated into. And I'm still happy to have you as a friend."
"I didn't," he feels horribly awkward admitting it to Prim, but then, that was the point of this conversation. To clear the air, all of it. "really think that anyone would like me like that. Friendship is one thing, but I've never been the sort of guy girls get crushes on." He saw enough of that in the Academy and shortly afterward, especially with Ino as a teammate. "It was really nice having that proven wrong." For a little while, anyway.
A pause.
"...But Prim?" 'Never really thought I'd ever get to that point' brings him circling back around to the other thing he wanted to talk about, if she were willing.
"I wouldn't, either." So maybe they'd bring it up again, sometime. When they were sure, if they ever could be, in Luceti.
The admission actually surprised Prim - her eyebrows rose, and the lowered, as she frowned. They had talked about it, and he had seemed unsure, but... "You've always seemed likable to me. I mean - like I said, about...never giving it thought, that was for anyone. I'd never meant to like anyone until - " She shrugged. Until she was past Reaping age. Maybe. It seemed safer. "I think you're wrong about that, at least. So - yes."
"I've been a shinobi, a soldier, since just before my thirteenth birthday. We have an Academy, kind of like the one Clove and Cato went to, to train us before that. So it didn't seem strange to me when Clove told me she'd had the same kind of training. I've always known I'd grow up fighting for my village and my country. I thought," He shakes his head. "I never realized just how different our worlds are. Not until I heard what Katniss said on the journals last month."
Katniss said a lot on the journals. About the place where they grew up, about her own actions... and about Prim. About Prim's death. He knows Prim was sure to hear it, and that telling her he had too is the same as telling her he knows she's dead in her own world. He won't say it out loud, not right away, and Chouji doesn't want to push the matter if it will hurt Prim.
Then there's the fact that Panem betrayed its citizens. Its children. Asuma's last words on the king they ought to be protecting have always been gripped tighter by Shikamaru than by Chouji, but he still believes them. Panem's children all grew up dreading six years of wondering whether they'd be drawn to die against their will, in defense of nothing and for someone's entertainment. It was never a conscious choice, becoming a shinobi. It was the family legacy. But he did have one, and the country never ordered him to die.
What Katniss had said last month. Prim remembered that, remembered why it had happened - that'd been just after Effie had suggested the Games. And while Prim didn't exactly know where she stood on Effie, she at least could agree that Effie didn't...well, Effie might understand more, now. But she was what she had been born into. Like they were. She understood that much, and she knew Katniss cared for Effie. And she'd known that Katniss was trying to sacrifice any love people had for her. She was used to that impulse, too, a bit. ...But it hadn't just been for Effie, had it? That, back then, had been about Sokka. And about being worthy.
It wasn't hard for Prim to imagine a world at war. She'd been through one. It was harder to imagine a place with shinobi, with the powers she knew existed, than it was to imagine war; but Chouji was right. Their worlds were night and day, in many ways.
Prim grips her mug, wondering which part of it he's trying to bring up. "You thought she meant she was training to be a soldier in a different sort of way. A not-Career way." She says the word like a title, because it is, although she doesn't say it meanly. She didn't like the Careers when they had weapons trained on her sister, when they were locked in an arena together, but - if she could do anything, it was forgive. Or at least to try and find peace. "It's something the richer Districts can do. One and Two, normally. Clove and Cato are both from Two. Masonry. They make weapons. Twelve's coal mining."
Chouji doesn't agree with what Katniss did, but he also doesn't hold it against her. And his immediate response was to assure her that Prim wouldn't either, not in the long run.
"I don't mind being a shinobi. I have my teammates looking out for me, and our Hokage, the village leader, making sure that mission assignments are given with the best chance of survival and success." Chouji can get around to Prim specifically in a minute. While they're speaking about things in the general sense, he might as well say what he thinks.
"I have a choice in the matter. I serve and protect my village. My country uses me, but they didn't force it on me and there's always good reason for it. What Panem was doing to all of you was worse."
"...I never had a chance to think of things like that, growing up. I mean - we all hated it, but no one ever thought there was anything to be done. Until Katniss volunteered. And even then - everyone thought she would..." Prim shook her head, her gaze abstract, looking at the past. "I made her promise to come back. To try."
It had been her only selfish request of her sister, and she'd known it. What trying meant.
"Of course you did. You love your sister." Habit from another life takes over, and Chouji's hand is halfway across the table before he realizes it. He isn't reaching for crackers and cheese, either. Realizing what he's done, his hand twitches as if he's going to pull it away, but he leaves it where it is. Girlfriend or not, Prim is still a friend. He won't rescind the offer of a little bit of physical comfort. She doesn't have to accept, but he'll hold her hand if she wants it.
"I told her you'd forgive her, when I heard what she said."
"There was never anything to forgive." She'd never believe there was. Yes, Katniss had done things, but...
...Prim had always understood. She catches the movement of Chouji's hand, and for a moment, she isn't sure what she'll do - but she reaches out, too. "When she spoke about the 75th games - that was the second time. The second games she was called for - no. Really, those were the first. The first games, the 74th, it wasn't her name they called."
Chouji's grip tightens on her hand as realization dawns. Of course. There was one reason, a completely obvious one, that Katniss would volunteer for the games. They called Prim's name.
While Katniss was gone, Prim had to wait at home. Chouji knows her well enough to know that in addition to the possibility of loss, Prim would have borne a burden of personal responsibility for her sister's fate throughout it all. And Katniss... Katniss went through all of that for Prim's sake, only to lose Prim in the end.
He closes his eyes against the thought for just a second before facing Prim again. "I don't have a sister," Chouji says, tension audible in his voice, "but I can see why you love yours so much." He'd do the same for his teammates without a second thought, and they for him. It's the closest he can come to understanding the strength of the bond between Prim and her sister.
Prim had to smile at that. At how she loved Katniss - because yes, that was true. More than anything else in the world, probably, although her affection for her horrible cat was well-known and inexplicable. Katniss had always been there, always. Until Prim hadn't been.
She doesn't react to the tightened grip - at least, she doesn't seem to. "She probably blames herself. I mean - I know she does, somehow. For my...for what happened to me. After the games. But really, it wasn't her fault."
There's a quiet for a second, as Prim pauses, debating, but... "There was a civil war. More or less. And they needed doctors. As many as they could get. I went to help, I volunteered, and we were on the front lines." She's never said it out loud before now, but she does it anyway. "There were children, and bombs, and we went in to help, but - it was just the first wave. We hadn't known."
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August 13th
Prim shrugged one shoulder, figuring he got the picture. Effie and Richard had managed to get away without the memories, but Katniss hadn't, and neither had Prim. And those two had had their own problems to deal with. "Actually, I do have something for you either way."
August 13th
The second thing she says does surprise him, and Chouji can't help asking, "What do you mean, you have something for me? Like what?"
August 13th
"And it's a present. ...Actually, I'd meant to give you some before..." She waved her hand, trying to gesture to the entire thing that had just happened, before shrugging with an awkward smile. "It'll go with the tea."
August 13th
And she keeps proving that. Chouji smiles, feeling a little awkward about the fact that Prim has a gift for him but nodding anyway. "Thank you, then. I'm glad I finally came over, even if things were... delayed."
August 13th
Prim goes to get the tea started as she speaks, since the kitchen's open to the room with the table. Hot water into two cups. The tea bags filled with her own brew. And then she walks back to set those down, one in front of Chouji and one in front of the seat opposite, before returning to get some other things out.
"...And now I know a lot about him. Things he never told me, which...I think, even despite the differences, a lot of it's probably true. ...I can see why people are hiding away from that, maybe." She's not saying she's doing the same, but...she can understand it. "And...even without that, even with people you knew, it's...it took a few days to stop expecting to wake up back home."
She means at the Rogers household.
This time, Prim comes out with a plate of cheese and crackers, which she sets down. "I made it. The cheese, I mean. It's goat cheese. I'd wanted you to try some."
August 13th
She knows him well. Chouji grins at that. Some things are the same, any version of themselves. Food is the best present. "I'd love to try it."
August 13th
She still feels awkward right now, for example. She wants to crack a joke about something that never happened, some sort of aside for the both of them, or to reach over and take his hand. Instead she takes a sip of tea.
"In that case, please do! And we can talk."
August 13th
It's hard not offering a hand or getting up to give her a hug. Chouji still feels like any difficult conversation with Prim ought to happen with his arms around her.
He might as well admit it rather than spend their whole conversation skirting the topic. "I still feel the same way about you, at least somewhat. I'm not sure when or if it will go away, or how much of it is even me." Chouji was in love with her before. It might not be love now, but there's still something there that wasn't before. He's quick to clarify, "I don't want to ask you for anything, especially not now, I just wanted to be honest with you."
August 13th
Somehow, confronting the issue head on makes Prim relax just a bit more, even if it's hard and, well - awkward. "...I do, too. At least - I don't know, either. How to tell when things are real or not real, a little. I liked you before, I just don't..."
She shrugged, meaning the same things he'd said. "...I'm at least glad it was you rather than someone else."
August 13th
Chouji sighs in relief at Prim's admission. It doesn't make things easy, of course, but it's one less eggshell to avoid stepping on. Just break them all and trust that there's still at least friendship between them once it's done. With a soft laugh, he tells her, "I am too. Glad. However much of it was real, at least my first girlfriend was a friend, somebody I care about even when the rest of it disappears."
First date, first kiss, first time being in love. Chouji could waste his time wishing it were real, or he could just be grateful it happened at all, and with someone he likes.
August 13th
This...is a little different than meeting a friend for the first time. Or a lot different. But - she thinks that if it's them, it'll probably be okay. She could admit she was worried, but she thought she probably had known that Chouji wouldn't avoid her, and that no matter what was real or not real, they had always been friends first. That was real.
"We can...see what disappears and doesn't. And...I guess honestly, I never thought about things like this. At least - I said that to you already, didn't I? Back at the dating. I mean, the speed dating. I never had the time to worry about it at home." And then she'd died, and it had never mattered. "I never really thought I'd ever get to that point."
August 13th
"I didn't," he feels horribly awkward admitting it to Prim, but then, that was the point of this conversation. To clear the air, all of it. "really think that anyone would like me like that. Friendship is one thing, but I've never been the sort of guy girls get crushes on." He saw enough of that in the Academy and shortly afterward, especially with Ino as a teammate. "It was really nice having that proven wrong." For a little while, anyway.
A pause.
"...But Prim?" 'Never really thought I'd ever get to that point' brings him circling back around to the other thing he wanted to talk about, if she were willing.
August 13th
The admission actually surprised Prim - her eyebrows rose, and the lowered, as she frowned. They had talked about it, and he had seemed unsure, but... "You've always seemed likable to me. I mean - like I said, about...never giving it thought, that was for anyone. I'd never meant to like anyone until - " She shrugged. Until she was past Reaping age. Maybe. It seemed safer. "I think you're wrong about that, at least. So - yes."
Then a pause to match, glancing up. "Yes?"
August 13th
Katniss said a lot on the journals. About the place where they grew up, about her own actions... and about Prim. About Prim's death. He knows Prim was sure to hear it, and that telling her he had too is the same as telling her he knows she's dead in her own world. He won't say it out loud, not right away, and Chouji doesn't want to push the matter if it will hurt Prim.
Then there's the fact that Panem betrayed its citizens. Its children. Asuma's last words on the king they ought to be protecting have always been gripped tighter by Shikamaru than by Chouji, but he still believes them. Panem's children all grew up dreading six years of wondering whether they'd be drawn to die against their will, in defense of nothing and for someone's entertainment. It was never a conscious choice, becoming a shinobi. It was the family legacy. But he did have one, and the country never ordered him to die.
August 13th
It wasn't hard for Prim to imagine a world at war. She'd been through one. It was harder to imagine a place with shinobi, with the powers she knew existed, than it was to imagine war; but Chouji was right. Their worlds were night and day, in many ways.
Prim grips her mug, wondering which part of it he's trying to bring up. "You thought she meant she was training to be a soldier in a different sort of way. A not-Career way." She says the word like a title, because it is, although she doesn't say it meanly. She didn't like the Careers when they had weapons trained on her sister, when they were locked in an arena together, but - if she could do anything, it was forgive. Or at least to try and find peace. "It's something the richer Districts can do. One and Two, normally. Clove and Cato are both from Two. Masonry. They make weapons. Twelve's coal mining."
August 13th
"I don't mind being a shinobi. I have my teammates looking out for me, and our Hokage, the village leader, making sure that mission assignments are given with the best chance of survival and success." Chouji can get around to Prim specifically in a minute. While they're speaking about things in the general sense, he might as well say what he thinks.
"I have a choice in the matter. I serve and protect my village. My country uses me, but they didn't force it on me and there's always good reason for it. What Panem was doing to all of you was worse."
ugust 13th
It had been her only selfish request of her sister, and she'd known it. What trying meant.
August 13th
"I told her you'd forgive her, when I heard what she said."
August 13th
...Prim had always understood. She catches the movement of Chouji's hand, and for a moment, she isn't sure what she'll do - but she reaches out, too. "When she spoke about the 75th games - that was the second time. The second games she was called for - no. Really, those were the first. The first games, the 74th, it wasn't her name they called."
August 13th
While Katniss was gone, Prim had to wait at home. Chouji knows her well enough to know that in addition to the possibility of loss, Prim would have borne a burden of personal responsibility for her sister's fate throughout it all. And Katniss... Katniss went through all of that for Prim's sake, only to lose Prim in the end.
He closes his eyes against the thought for just a second before facing Prim again. "I don't have a sister," Chouji says, tension audible in his voice, "but I can see why you love yours so much." He'd do the same for his teammates without a second thought, and they for him. It's the closest he can come to understanding the strength of the bond between Prim and her sister.
August 13th
She doesn't react to the tightened grip - at least, she doesn't seem to. "She probably blames herself. I mean - I know she does, somehow. For my...for what happened to me. After the games. But really, it wasn't her fault."
There's a quiet for a second, as Prim pauses, debating, but... "There was a civil war. More or less. And they needed doctors. As many as they could get. I went to help, I volunteered, and we were on the front lines." She's never said it out loud before now, but she does it anyway. "There were children, and bombs, and we went in to help, but - it was just the first wave. We hadn't known."