A/N: Hey, everyone. This is my first FanFic, and it's the Hunger Games! Please, no flames. This is a Clato story (one of thousands) that I came up with during about an hour of free time. School's keeping me pretty busy, plus clubs and etc, but I'll try to update once a week. On with the story...

Clove Hopkins was walking towards the Training Center. Clove was five, and she was excited to finally be able to train. She was small for her age, and had long, shiny dark brown hair that she kept in a high ponytail. Her eyes were a warm brown, and shined with a light that nobody couuld explain. She already had a plan in her mind to train as hard as she could, become the best girl tribute in District 2 (and she knew how many girls wanted to be a tribute) and finally win the Hunger Games, all by the age of sixteen. For Clove's father was the victor of the 57th Hunger Games at fifteen, breaking the rule of volunteering at the age of eighteen, but he beat the odds. He came back home and married Clove's mom, the winner of the 58th Hunger Games after she won. Both of her parents were victors, which was unusual even in District 2, with as many victors as starving people in 12. Most victors tried to stay away from the Hunger Games after they'd won, which seemed odd to Clove, since her parents loved them. Ever since Clove had been old enough to remember, her parents drilled her in survival techniques and tactics to winning the Games. Her favorite one was to "be the classic Career", but her parents thought she might be better at "looking innocent". She soon became a pretty good actor, and was able to be seen as weak and sniveling, or strong and bloodthirsty. She mastered acting a few months before she started training.

Even though Clove was only three years old, she had a little experience with weapons. Her parents had put a throwing knife in her hand at the age of three, and ever since then, against her parent's advice, and that was the only weapon she had tried since. In their house they had knives, swords, spears, maces, and bows among other various weapons, along with a training room in their huge basement. Clove practiced in the training room with her parents for three hours a day.

So, as Clove walked through the door of the Training Center, she thought she was pretty well prepared. She walked calmly and confidently through the door, but before she could make it to the front desk and sign in, she walked into a blond haired blue eyed boy that had been walking by her.

"Sorry," Clove muttered while dusting herself off.

"That's alright. Hey, I'm Cato Williams. Who're you?" Cato was very interested to see who this mysterious girl with the dark brown hair was.

"My name's Clove Hopkins. This is my first day here. Do you mind showing me around after I sign in?" Clove asked shyly. She began to wonder why this boy was making her so nervous. I've never been like this before around people my age, Clove thought. Why should Cato be any different?

Clove was startled from her thoughts as her body began moving to the front desk. The receptionist had bright purple hair and asked who she was in a high pitched voice.

"I'm Clove Hopkins," she said.

"Hopkins, Hopkins... Ah, there you are. Go on ahead." The purple haired woman typed some things into her computer and gestured for Clove to leave, since a long line of other kids had begun to form.

"So, are you nervous?" Cato asked.

"No, not really. Hey, how old are you? You don't seem like you're five, no offense."

"That's alright. I'm actually seven. I've been training for two years, and it's been brutal so far. The regimen is pretty strict, with one rest day every seven days."

"Do you want to win the Games one day?" Clove asked, knowing full well the answer the boy would say.

"Well, I want to win the Games, but I'm not sure if I want to kill to do it," Cato said sheepishly. "I mean, I want fame and riches and a house in the Victor's Village, but the others in the Games are kids, like us and have lives like us. It seems kind of silly to me."

Clove was shocked when she heard his answer. "Cato," she whispered fervently. "That type of talking and thinking can get you into humongous trouble. I mean, I get what you're saying and I don't want to either, but nobody can know about this. They might kick us out and tell our parents. Imagine what they would do."

The two kids shuddered as they imagined their parents' rage at them hating the Games and getting kicked out of training. The two didn't realize it, but they had arrived at Clove's part of the Center, the first years gym.

"I better leave you now, or I'll get in trouble. Um, do you think that maybe I can walk home with you?" Cato asked, looking everywhere but Clove's face.

"Sure," said Clove, her face beginning to blush a dark red.

Before Cato had time to reconsider, Clove had walked inside of the gym and gasped when she saw the amazing display around her. Three of the gym's walls were covered in deadly weapons, and the other was a huge natural rock wall, made of stone mined from the Nut. There were target ranges, a weight lifting spot, a place to practice hand to hand combat, survival stations and a swimming pool. At the far end of the room, there were three adults. Clove knew that the three of them were Victors, as they were the only ones deemed able to teach the next generation.

She was the first one there, and the adults beckoned her towards them. One of them caught her eye, a tall slender woman with ebony hair. She had one a recent Games by ripping a boy's throat out violently. Clove thought her name might be Enobaria.

"Hello there. What's your name? Do you have any experience in any part of this gym?" The adults rattled off questions and Clove answered them off handedly. My name's Clove, I can start a fire and I can throw knives fairly well. I don't know how to swim, and I do want to win the Games someday with all my heart. She flinched a bit at the last one, remembering her conversation with Cato, knowing that she agreed with him, but she had to keep up the act.

"Well, that's wonderful Clove. I think you'll make a great tribute and Victor one day." said Enobaria.

"Now, I want you to warm up. Our daily warm up will be to run four laps around the gym (the gym's track's like half a mile), then fifty curl ups, thirty push ups, and stretches for three minutes. If at any time you feel like you need to stop, push yourself to keep going. Every day you try to improve. Understand?" Clove hurriedly nodded her head up and down. "Good. Ask any questions to me or Enobaria. My name's Brutus by the way. All the trainers in this room will be your trainers until you graduate and become a Peacekeeper or become a tribute."

Clove stood up and started her warm up. She was aware of the adults watching her, and possibly criticizing her every move. About halfway through, she felt like she was about to pass out. Clove, in the arena you won't be doing fifty curlups. You'll be fighting and running for your life. You need abs and endurance to do that. Not to mention upper body strength, she thought. She made it through the warm up in about twenty minutes, and was covered in sweat and panting at the end.

"Very good Clove. That was one of the best times we've had from a first year. Yours is the second best, only after Cato Williams, who's starting his third year of training with the other seven year olds."

Clove was smirking, just like her parents told her to do whenever someone complimented her. In the back of her mind, however, she couldn't help but think that if Cato was so against the Games, then why was he so good at training for them?