Hi. This is my Clato fanfic, I hope you enjoy it. I am writing a Finnick and Annie one, too, but I had a bad nights sleep, and for some reason got inspired to write this. So, if you do want to check out my Finnick and Annie one aswel, it would be much appreciated, ha. I hope you like it. Please review, honest opinions, I'd really love to know what people think about it. When I read it back through, I noticed that Cato does seem to be a bit more soft than he is in the book, so hopefully I'll manage to make him more how he is in the book, ha. Thankyou for reading, in advance, if you do. Means a lot. Don't forget to review :)!
Chapter One
I slowly open my eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through a small gap in my curtains. I groan and slowly turn over. Just a few more minutes. I think to myself. I try force myself to go back to sleep, but something wont let me. I open my eyes again and slowly look around my room. My eyes dart to my calender hanging on my wall, opposite my bed. I sit up, faster than I ever have. Today is the day. Today is the day I volunteer to be tribute. I smile to my self. This time next month, I shall be in my new home, in the Victory village. My home is nice enough here. It's big, I have enough money, but I want more. I want one of those modern, huge houses that the other victors have. I want fame and wealth and more money than I know what to do with. I want to win.
It's been like this ever since I was little. I've dreamed about the year I deemed myself strong and brave enough to volunteer. I wanted to volunteer as soon as I was 12, but despite how much my parents wanted me to become a tribute, they made me wait. I've only just managed to persuade them to let me volunteer this year. It took a hell of a lot of persuading, but I managed to. I trained for nearly 14 hours a day. They know I'm strong enough. I had to make sure it was this year. I'm 17, and this year is the 74th annual Hunger Games. Next year, will be the 3rd Quarter Quell, and who knows what they have planned for that. Since next year will be my last year to volunteer, I'd rather volunteer this year, when it's just the average, normal games.
My parents think it would be better to volunteer for the Quarter Quell. They think it would get me more fame, or something. I want to be the victor, but I'd rather not risk my life even more than I'm going to be. The last Quarter Quell, there were twice as many tributes from each district. I'm still surprised that Haymitch Abernathy, a boy from District 12, won that year. I think he's the only surviving victor from twelve. Their kids are usually tiny and frail and pathetic and die in the initial blood bath at the Cornucopia. How one of them managed to survive while 47 other tributes died, especially when 12 of them were Career tributes, I'll never know. At least one of the girl tributes lasted until right near the end too, I think. That year surprised a lot of people.
I hesitantly get up. I need to do some last minute training, but I want to go back to sleep. I want to sleep right until I have to get ready. I know this day is going to go slow, training or not. I pull on sweatpants and a black tank top and go down stairs where my mom is making breakfast.
"Good morning, Cato!" I hear my mom say as I'm halfway down the stairs.
"Morning, mom." I reply.
"Want some breakfast?" she asks when I make my way to the kitchen. I shake my head and reach for a glass of water. "You've got to eat something, love."
"Not hungry" I mumble.
"I've made pancakes" she smiles
"if it will get you off my back, fine" I sigh, trying to return her smile.
"You nervous?" she asks, placing down a plate of pancakes in front of me, and taking the seat beside me.
"About what?" I ask, with my mouth full.
"Cato. Don't speak with your mouth full." She sighs. "About volunteering, obviously."
"Of course I'm not. I'm ready for this, mom." I say.
"I'm not sure about this. I know you think you're ready, but what if you're not? What if you don't make it back? Cato. I don't want you to volunteer." I can see tears welling up in her eyes.
"Dad wants me to. It will make him proud of me." I say, hugging her. "I'll come home."
"Your father would be proud of you whether you became a tribute or not. He just wants his boy safe."
"You know that's not true, ma'. If I don't volunteer, he'll be so disappointed. Because he never got the chance to be a tribute, he's made sure I will be. You know that." I say, hugging her again. "I'm going for a couple of hours training, I'll be back soon"
"But, if you're going to volunteer, don't you want to spend some time with us for a while?" she squeaks.
"There will plenty of time to see each other when I get home, ma'." I laugh, lightly, kissing her on the forehead. I slip on some shoes and head out the door.
The training centre is about a 10 minute walk from my house. I set up a slow, steady jog, and make it to the centre in just over five minutes. "Morning, Sash" I say to the girl behind reception. She looks up and gives me a flirtatious smile.
"Hi, Cato" she purrs. "You're here early"
"It's my year, Sash" I smile.
"Oh, really?" Her flirtatious look is gone, and is replaced by a look of worry.
"What's the matter? Don't think I'll make it?"
"Of course I do. Doesn't mean I wont be worried about you." she frowns.
"You have nothing to worry about. I'll come home. This isn't the last you'll see of my ugly mug" I wink.
"I hope not." She's back to flirting. "Someone's in there, Cato. Some girl. You can train along side her, or you can wait, with me until she gets out"
"I'll train, thanks" I smile, walking into the gym.
The gym is huge, with tons of dummies all around, with different kinds of weaponry around them. Knives, spears, swords, bows and arrows, axes. I always feel like I'm in heaven when I'm here. The girl that's training is small, she looks strong though, of course. All careers look strong, whether they're small or not. She hasn't noticed me, so I watch her for a few minutes. She's throwing knives with amazing accuracy. She doesn't miss a single bullseye. "Wow." I said. "You're really good." I must have startled her, because before I know it, she sends a knife right at me. I move, just in time, and it flies pass me, missing me by a centimetre. "Watch it." I growled.
"Don't speak to me like that. I wont miss next time" she growled back.
A girl with a temper, I like it. "What are you doing here? I thought I was the only one that trained after hours" I ask, trying to calm myself down.
"I'm volunteering today. I thought I should get in some extra practise" she says, turning her back to me and throwing some more knives.
"You're volunteering?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.
"Yes. I am." she snapped.
"Well, what do you know, looks like I'm meeting my district partner early." I say.
She turned around, eyeing me suspiciously. "what do you mean?" she asked.
"I'm volunteering too. It's why I'm here." Her eyes flickered with fear, for a moment, as she studied me. I'm a lot bigger than her, a lot stronger, and I look a lot more intimidating.
"Good for you" she pouted as she turned around.
I had no reply, so instead I took a spear and started on my aim. Spears aren't my strong point. I don't have the best aim in the world, certainly not as good as that girl, but I'm not bad. Swords are my thing. They're what I use. I aimed and threw a spear, and it hit the dummy in the left arm. "Damn" I said. The girl must have heard me, because out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn and watch me. I picked up another one, and threw again. It got a little closer to the bullseye, I was happy about that, but it still aggravated me.
"Look, before you shoot, breathe in, deep. Aim it up, breathe out, take a moment to make sure you're fully lined up, take a deep breath in again, and as you breathe out, shoot." the girl instructed, walking over to me. I did as she said, and it got even closer to the bullseye. "After years of practise, it gets easier. Take your time, and breathe and you'll hit the bullseye. I know you can hardly take your time in the arena, but if you learn to do it quickly, you wont need to take it slowly."
"Thanks." I say.
"No problem." she says, once she's by me. "Spears and throwing things clearly aren't your thing, so what is?"
"Swords." I say, bluntly. If she's going to be my partner, why is she trying to get to know me? I'm just going to end up killing her.
"Knives are mine."
"I see. You're pretty good" I smiled.
"Thanks" she returned my smile. I studied her face for a second. She's very pretty. Her long, dark brown hair curled around her petite face. Her eyes were hazel, I had to remind myself not to get lost in them. They were beautiful. She isn't my usual type, but maybe if we were meeting under different circumstances, I wouldn't have minded dating her. I liked her temper. She seemed very much like me. She seemed stubborn, but strong, willing and determined.
We trained in silence for a couple hours, me working on my aim with spears and her just having fun throwing knives at anything and everything, until suddenly I hear her come up to me. "Want a break?" She asked. "My mom gave me a bit of food to bring, in case I got hungry. You can share some with me?"
"Sure." I say, trying hard not to sound harsh and cold. I don't want to get to know her, not if she's going to volunteer too, but she's being so polite, it's not right if I just shut her out, completely.
"So, why are you volunteering?" she asked, after a moments silence.
"I feel ready. I think if I don't do it this year, I might not get the chance. My dad would be disappointed if I didn't. Probably make me feel like I'm a coward. Why are you?"
"My mom and dad are making me. I don't really want to, but they want me to, so I have to." she says, quietly.
The thought of her parents making her volunteer, made me sad. My dad would never force me to volunteer, if I didn't volunteer, he would be disappointed in me, but he'd never make me if I didn't want to, she couldn't be much younger than me, a year or two, at the most, but she was small. Brilliant with a knife, but still, small. There's no guarantee that she would actually win.
"That sucks" I say, really not knowing what else I could say.
"Yeah." she sighs. "So, what's your name?"
"Cato. You?"
"Clove." She smiles. "How old are you?"
"17. You must be what, 12?" I laugh.
"15, actually" she scowls. Her scowl makes me laugh again, which only makes her scowl some more.
"Smile, it suits you more." I say.
"Better?" She asks, giving me a girlish smile.
"Yep." I say.
"I best go home. Got to get ready for the reaping. How exciting!" she sighed, faking enthusiam.
"Me too, actually." I say, getting up to leave with her.
We talk about training, some more as we walk home. It turns out she lives quite near me, so I walk her home, before carrying onto my house.
Wow, that girl. I think. She's really quite incredible.