Kurt sat in his train car long after everyone else had gone to bed, replaying the reapings which had all occurred earlier that day. Now that he finally had some time to himself, he felt it would help him stake out his impending competition.
He did not bother watching his own, for obvious reasons. He already knew what had happened.
He had volunteered, much to everyone in his District's shock. Although he knew several other boys from his class had been anxious to, as well, he had deprived them all of the opportunity simply by stunning them into acquiescence once the ceremony began.
Kurt had always been an outsider amongst his fellow children of District One. He had been a bit chubby and weak for much of his childhood, and he had always been a little too interested in the jewels and fine clothes their district produced for the Capitol. But as he had eased into his elder teenage years, he had lost a great deal of his baby fat and in the space of about 9 months after his 16th birthday, he had developed into a tall, lithe, muscular specimen of not insignificant lethal skill.
His specialty was ninja throwing discs, which he could aim with deadly accuracy. He also was quite the savant in hand-to-hand combat. His late-bloomer body had somehow graced him with the strength of a well-endowed, athletic seventeen year old boy and the flexibility of an extraordinary agile seventeen year old girl. This meant that in face-to-face confrontations, he could overpower almost any girl, and out-maneuver almost any boy. He could best nearly anyone his age of any gender, because he was not a victim to either's weaknesses.
Of course, that only had served to make him more of an outcast as he had grown older and begun to excel at their training regime. When the boy who is supposed to serve as everyone else's punching bag starts punching back, and with greater strength, the resentment, Kurt learned, is something fierce to behold. And if that boy is obviously a big queer, so much the worse.
So Kurt had decided to show them all up. He was not happy with his life or his lot in District One, and he wanted to make it better or die trying. He'd either return home a hero, or he wouldn't return at all, and either option appeared an improvement on his current circumstances. His only real regret was leaving Kaley, his younger sister.
She was the only person in Kurt's life to whom he truly felt attached. He had loved his father deeply, while he had been alive, but the man had died when Kurt was 8. It had been discovered he was part of an underground organization working to overthrow the Capitol government. He had been arrested on treason charges, convicted and executed. Kurt's mother had thankfully been totally ignorant of the entire plot, and after a long investigation by the Capitol, she had been allowed to return home. But her shame had made her a stoic recluse, barely able to show motherly affection to Kurt or his sister.
Kurt had done his best to love his sister in place of his mother and father. But he knew he could not live his life solely for her either. He needed to do this for himself. And so it began. Kurt settled himself in to get a good look at his competition.
He obviously knew the girl volunteer from his district. Kitty Morgan. Girls like her were the reason words like "bitch" were invented. Kurt had been relieved when she had been the one to ultimately forward her name. Although he did not have any real friends, there were a few girls Kurt had known growing up in his district who were friendly enough to him, and he would have regretted having to face them in the arena. But Kitty Morgan did not come within 50 miles of that group. She had been horrible to him for as long as he could recall, and Kurt felt nothing but grim satisfaction that he might have the opportunity to do her some legitimate damage.
Watching the tape of the evening reaping broadcast, Kurt really examined his competition from District Two– a stocky dark skinned boy named "Az" and a small, but rather conniving looking blonde girl named Quinn. Quinn's general demeanor put him in mind of Kitty in many respects, and he imagined the two of them were cut from the same cloth in multiple respects. Az looked like he was pure brute strength, and that actually concerned Kurt less. Not that he believed the boy could not be a threat, but he looked more manageable than Quinn, with her still undisclosed talents.
District Three had two seemingly banal tributes – a tall, fit boy with a very composed demeanor named Mike, and a very nervous wide-eyed girl named Marley. The boy actually looked like he potentially had many of Kurt's physical gifts: strength, agility. But he came from the district that built electronics, and Kurt doubted the boy's physicality was honed to its' real possibilities. The three days of training they received in the Capitol would not do much to even Mike out with someone like Kurt, who had the benefit of years of training under his belt. And the girl was clearly a doe in the headlights. She probably wouldn't last the first 30 seconds of the games.
District Four boasted two fairly well-composed tributes who at least looked old enough and well-fed enough to fend for themselves. An attractive, sandy haired boy named Sebastian and a pale-skinned sharp-eyed girl named Harmony. They looked neither particularly threatening, nor like total pushovers, and Kurt decided they were worth keeping an eye on, even if it was only in his peripheral vision.
The tributes from District Five were both clearly out of their element. Like the boy from Three, the male tribute looked like he might posses some physical gifts, but they were likely underdeveloped and therefore of little use. And clearly neither tribute had anything in particular going for them. Their names were Tina and Jake, and Kurt did not feel the need to know anything about them beyond that.
The same seemed true of District Six, but their fare seemed, if anything, even worse. The boy, Artie, looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over, and the girl somehow managed to be notably chubby, despite their district's general poverty. Her family must have been reasonably well-off, and yet it still had not saved her from the games. Lauren, in all probability, was not going to make it past the first day, and Artie would be extremely lucky if he made it past the second.
District Seven could not have been more of a distinction from Six, and Kurt ended up replaying that reaping more than once. Both of their tributes this year struck him as genuine threats and it caused him to linger longer than he otherwise would have, and longer than on any other district besides Two. The girl was a fierce looking thing, reasonably tall, strong, and probably highly agile. Her name was Santana and she looked like a woman equally adept at snapping your neck and poisoning your tea. She was also incredibly beautiful, which only added to her generally intimidating aura. Then there was the boy, David: a heavy-set muscular figure who looked as though he was keeping a terrible storm at bay just behind his hazel eyes. His faced seemed trained not to betray any emotion, and yet, Kurt sensed if his fury was unleashed, it would be a truly terrifying spectacle to behold. He too, was extremely attractive, though in a less conventional way than his companion tribute, and Kurt acknowledged under different circumstances, the boy would make up the stuff of his dreams. But as it was, Kurt was training himself to view both of Seven's offerings with great suspicion. He would not be surprised if he ended up with one or both of them in the final throws of the game, and he needed to start preparing to out-play them now.
District Eight's tributes were an odd couple. Neither looked like they had much going for them, physically, and yet neither seemed terribly perturbed at being chosen. They went by the names Rachel and Blaine, and what struck Kurt most about them was their respective heights, both of which were well below average. Blaine had a head of curly hair that almost seemed to have a life of its own. And Rachel, from the way she was waving at the crowd at her reaping, looked as if she were treating the whole experience as a way to garner the limelight. Kurt suspected she probably had a bunch of older siblings or something, and was therefore generally desperate for attention. She probably knew she was doomed in the arena and just wanted to enjoy being special for a little while. A bit crazy, perhaps, but not totally beyond comprehension.
Nine produced two contributions of note, if not of threat – a tall, muscular boy whose first name was Noah but who insisted on being called Puck after he was first hailed at the reaping. The whole thing seemed a big joke to him, and Kurt could not tell if it was confidence, sheer abandonment of hope, or a simple disinterest in living or dying. Or perhaps something else entirely. Whatever the boy's story, his body looked like it could put up one hell of a fight and Kurt mentally put a pin in him. He was worth getting a closer read on. The girl was also something of an enigma. She was dark skinned and a bit plump, and she actually volunteered in place of her younger sister, who was originally called and who, at the age of 12, was clearly no match for the arena whatsoever. To be fair, Mercedes did not look like she would fare all that much better, but you never knew. Kurt had to admit, he was almost rooting for her. She seemed kind and, under different circumstances, exactly the sort of person he'd seek out as a friend.
The tributes from District Ten did not give Kurt too much pause. Both the boy and the girl seemed fairly vacuous, and while the boy, Finn, was physically large, his bumbling to get on the stage convinced Kurt rather quickly that he would never be able to make good use of his bodily gifts, such as they were. And Kurt was fairly certain the girl, Britney, had frankly no gifts at all to speak of. She had come to the reaping carrying an enormous cat, and had seemed most distressed, when her name was called, as to what was going to happen to him. Either she was faking idiocy, and doing a really good job, or she was genuinely without more than a few brain cells to rub together. And being she appeared to have no particular physical prowess, Kurt could not bother himself much with either of them.
Eleven produced two more enigmas. A tall, healthy looking boy named Jesse and another stocky, dark-skinned girl named Unique. The girl had a confident determination about her that convinced Kurt she had, if nothing else, a serious will to live. And will power was not something Kurt was quick to discount. She also looked like she could hold her own in a fight. Whatever else this girl was, she was not a delicate flower. The boy gave Kurt pause not so much from his physical prowess, which appeared deeply average, but more from his conniving air. He had that same type of look the girl from Two had, like he had some plot afoot, some trap already in wait to be laid. His unmistakable intelligence was worth more than casual scrutiny.
And, as per usual, Twelve produced two of the most pathetic looking tributes one could imagine. Sam, the boy, was tall, rail thin and had pasty skin that looked almost transparent. Had the boy been well-fed and regularly bathed, he probably would have been handsome. But as it was, he was scrawny, dirty and reeked of chronic malnutrition. The girl was also small, short as well as thin, with brown hair, brown eyes and the most ironic name Kurt thought you could give a child from the most impoverished district in Panem – Sugar. Kurt almost wondered if her parents were mocking her or something; it seemed almost cruel. At any rate, neither tribute from Twelve seemed worth worrying over, which was predictable enough.
With his viewing done, Kurt located a piece of paper and pen in his bedside table drawer and made a list.
Serious threats: Quinn, Santana, David, Kitty and probably Az.
People to watch out for: both the kids from Four (Sebastian and Harmony), Puck, both the kids from Eleven (Unique and Jesse).
Wild cards: Mike, Jake, Mercedes, Finn?
Kurt knew, of course, not to count anyone totally out. Usually it was fairly easy to tell off the bat who was a true threat and who wasn't. But every once in a while, an unassuming tribute has something up their sleeve that puts the odds unexpectedly in their favor. Kurt had seen enough game tapes from previous years to know no one was totally worth discounting. Sometimes people were not what they appeared, and that was a danger all its own.
As soon as Kurt laid his list back on his bedside table, he rolled over in his bunk and closed his eyes, waiting for the train to lull him into sleep. When he finally succumbed, his unconscious mind summoned up images of himself and the boy from Seven huddled together, waiting out a storm underneath a single sleeping bag. The boy's body had encircled Kurt completely, making him feel warm and safe. When Kurt awoke the next morning, it took him a long moment to remember that that boy was actually still his enemy.
When he finally did remember, he felt true regret about his status as a tribute for the first time since he had volunteered.
