A/N : This is my first fanfiction! I hope I nailed Cato's POV (which I don't think I have) and I truly am sorry if there are grammar errors because English is not my first language. Advices are welcomed, reviews are appreciated. This is basically a one-shot but if you want this story to continue, tell me in the reviews and I shall continue the story. I am a Clato shipper and the idea for this story just came to me out of nowhere and I wrote this during a car trip on my way to grandmother's house (which is about a four hours drive so of course I was bored) because I was bored after about two and a half hour listening to music. And I wrote this on my phone's memo. This was suppose to be up ages ago, but there was no internet connection on my grandmother's house and I couldn't find the download program for Microsoft Word for my new laptop then so, yeah I've found it now. Wow this is one long A/N. Okay then, enough of my rant and on with the story. It's not that long, exactly 1.600 words excluding the A/Ns and Disclaimer. So, enjoy! :D

~ Celine ~

Disclaimer : I do not own The Hunger Games, Cato, or Clove. They belong to Suzanne Collins. I only own the characters that you don't recognize from either The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, or Mockingjay.

I look at the clock and sigh. Six fifty-five. Which means I'm late for training. Training starts at seven o'clock sharp. Mark will be mad. Mark is my trainer, victor of the 57th Games. It's actually a really big honor here in District 2, to be trained by a past victor. And can you believe how happy I am when Marcus Sprint himself asked me to be his pupil? My father was very proud of me. And he died of a sickness which no one could cure, just a few days before I even begin my training with Mark. I begin to rush around, pulling on a pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt, grab a slice of bread from the kitchen table, and run for the door. My mother's voice stops me, "Where are you going?"

I turned and look at her, confused. "Training, of course. I'm late, Mark will kill me."

She chuckles softly, "It's reaping day, Cato. No training session today."

Oh. Yeah. Completely forgot. I can't believe I forgot that today is reaping day. I'm eighteen this year. Last year of eligibility. Honestly, I don't think I'll even volunteer. I mean, I love the Games and all and it'll be awesome to win this thing and coming home victorious but I have people I care about here in District 2. My mother, my friends. Who will take care of my mother while I'm in the arena? I care a lot about the people I love and I can't exactly prove it by dying in the arena, can I? I stare at my mother.

"Well, I think I'll go anyways. I love training." I grin at her.

She laughs, "Of course you do. Just like your father. So off you go."

I smile again and walk out of our house which is located about 15 minutes away from the Training Centre. I've been training since I was 8. And when I was 12, Mark requested me to train with him. Mark recruits 2 twelve years old kids to train with him every year, then he'll train them till they're ready to volunteer. I walk on the streets of District 2, taking a few turns while munching on my slice of bread, and finally stop in front of a big brick building with a sign that says "DISTRICT TWO TRAINING CENTRE". I went straight to the gym and I figured out that I'm not the only one training today. Seems like a certain girl has the same idea. I watch her as she threw the knives. Each one hitting a vital part in the dummies. I smile, and pick up one of the knives on the rack, careful not to make a sound, and threw it. It flew past her and landed on a dummy's chest. The blow was so hard the dummy was knocked to the ground. Clove turned around instantly, throwing the knife. I sidestep. It lands on the wall right behind me.

"Relax, Clove, it's just me!" Clove's my best friend and yet in the same time, my biggest rival. She also trained with Mark. She blushed.

"Sorry. Just a bit nervous about volunteering." She mumbled.

Wait..

"You're volunteering this year? But you're 17, I thought you'll volunteer next year!"

She frowned a bit, "Mark said I'm good enough. I'll go out there and kill them all easy."

Oh God, please don't tell me this girl is serious.

"I know. But the Careers from One and Four are usually 18 and much bigger than you, they can take you down easy in an arm-to-arm combat."

"Not if I have my knives." She interrupted,

"I'm not saying that you're not good, you are excellent with those knives and all, but you're not risking your life. Please."

I don't know why I care so much about this girl. She is, indeed, my best friend but still.. Well, I did have a crush on her when I was 13. The first year of her training with Mark. But that was years ago! The feeling was long gone! Come to think of it, no.. The feeling didn't go anywhere. I just refuse to believe that it is still there. I am actually scared that I might lose her to the Games.

She sighed, "Alright, I won't."

That easy? I thought she'll be more.. Stubborn.

"You're not volunteering, Cato?" Not this again. People have been asking me the same question for the past week.

"No, I don't think I will."

"Oh, right. You came to train?"

"Yeah. Why else would I come here? Watch you rip a dummy apart?" I said with a grin.

"Who knows?" She asked, also grinning.

I picked up a sword and started slicing and stabbing a dummy and Clove continued to throw her knives. We joke and tease each other a bit and after a while Clove stopped throwing and looked at me.

"Cato, why do you train if you don't plan on volunteering?"

The question took me by surprise. No one ever asked me and I never actually think about it. Why do I train?

"I guess I just like it. Makes me feel.. Free. Why?" I answered after a minute.

"Nothing, just curious."

We trained in silence after that. Finally I look at the clock and said, "Well, the reaping is in half an hour. You'll go home and get ready now?"

Clove also stop and look at the clock, "Yeah, I think I will." She put down her knives, grab her bag and run out of the gym,

"See you later, Cato!"

I wave her goodbye and go home myself. Once I got home, I splash my face with cold water and decided I might as well take a quick shower because I'm all sweaty after all the training. I change my tee and shorts into a pair of pants and button down shirt and go to the kitchen and see that my mother is all ready for the reaping.

"You ready, Cato dear?"

I smile and nod then we both head for the square. The reaping will be held in

the town square, in front of the Justice Building at 1 o'clock sharp. Once I got there, I sign my name and head to the eighteen years old section near the stage. My eyes wander around until they rest on Clove. She's wearing a white, sleeveless, knee-length dress. Beautiful. We lock eyes and she smiles at me. I smile back at her and then her eyes flit away. The mayor steps upon the stage and started to read the usual things about the Dark Days and The Hunger Games. I couldn't care less. Anyway, the mayor then introduced our escort, Aqualyne Leaprose. Capitol names are ridiculous. She is a purple haired woman (last year it was blue), dressed all purple from head to toe (last year, obviously dressed all blue), she looks around twenty (but with all those surgeries they have in the Capitol, who knows, she might be 40), and she wore heels that are so high I doubt any of the district girls can wear it without falling. Aqualyne steps to the microphone with a (most likely fake) smile on her face,

"Good Afternoon, District 2! I'm Aqua, your escort! Oh, Happy Hunger Games! And, may the odds be ever in your favor!" She said a bit too brightly with that ridiculous Capitol accent of hers,

"What a perfect day for a reaping!"

Seriously?

"Are you all ready? Let's start, shall we? Ladies first!"

Right. The sooner it's over the better. She steps over to the glass ball on her left which contains the girls' names. She picks a random slip and smoothed that slip of paper. She walks to the microphone and read it aloud,

"Do we have a.. Jessica Storm in the crowd?"

A terrified girl from the fourteen years old section walks slowly up the stage.

"Is anyone willing to volunteer for Miss Jessica?"

Then a voice in the crowd yells, "Yes! I, Clove Rodriguez, volunteer as Tribute!"

No. She didn't. She promised! She promised she won't! Oh no. Well done, Cato. Are you that dumb you can't even detect the simplest lie? Clove ran up the stage and the girl, Jessica Storm, looks really grateful as Clove took her place.

"Excellent! We have our female tribute! Now's the time for us to pick the male tribute!"

Aqua crosses over to the glass ball on her right. I know now what I must do. I have to go. I have to volunteer. I have to keep her safe. Aqua then reads the name of the male tribute. I ready myself.

"Drake Johnson, come up here you lucky boy!"

And without thinking I lunged forward and yell, "I volunteer!"

As I walk up the stage, Clove look at me with confusion. Her eyes asking me a thousand questions.

I take my position beside her and Aqua asked me, "And what's your name, dear?"

I have to be tough and strong. Capitol people love tough careers.. I think. A bit arrogance would work too.

I grin widely and say loudly, "Cato. Cato Navarro. And I will win this thing."

I wink at the camera.

Aqua beams, "Wonderful! I believe we have both our tributes! District 2, I present to you, your newest tributes, Clove Rodriguez and Cato Navarro!"

My hope is that somewhere in the Capitol, some people have already get their money ready to sponsor me and Clove. The escort motions us to shake hands. I took her hand in mine and look her in the eyes.

Don't worry, Clove. I'll keep you safe.

Another A/N : So, do you like it? Love it? Hate it? Tell me in the reviews! I really love feedback, especially the negative ones because they can help you to be better. But I wouldn't mind the positive ones as well ;) And yes, I know Cato is a bit (or a lot) OOC but I can't think of another way to make Clato work. Thanks for reading :)