Cato is five. His parents dropped him off three days ago to begin his training for the Hunger Games. He's sitting on his bed, and he knows he shouldn't be because he's supposed to be training and anybody could walk in on him, but he's crying and he couldn't think of anywhere else to do it. One of the older boys cut him and it stings worse than he thought it would.
"Acanthus, look! He's crying!" Cato's head jerks up at the noise. The boys who hurt him earlier are standing in the doorway. They are large, unusually muscular twelve year olds. The moment he arrived they began targeting him. Now they are standing over him, and he feels smaller than he's ever felt. Acanthus reaches for the hilt of his knife, and Cato closes his eyes, ashamed of his tears and how helpless he is.
"What are you doing?" Cato opens his eyes. The boys have moved away from him. One of them makes a break for it, and the figure in the doorway slaps him hard across the face. He falls.
"Is this how you want to prove yourself Acanthus? Beating up on little kids? Get back to training." When the boys have gone, Cato stands. The figure in the doorway comes forward a little bit and is bathed in light. It's a girl, about thirteen or fourteen. She smiles indulgently at him, sitting down on his bed and grabbing his arm. He winces at the pain, but then she begins bandaging it and it feels a bit better.
"I'm Lila. How old are you?"
"Five." She huffs.
"It's ridiculous how they pick on younger kids. Like that's supposed to be impressive." Cato sniffles. Lila looks up from his arm and seems to notice for the first time that he's been crying. She sighs.
"What's your name, kid?" He tells her. "Well Cato, you won't win any fights by crying. Next time someone cuts you, cut them deeper." He nods. She seems satisfied with this, and stands to leave.
"Find a weapon you can use really well. That way no one can pick on you." Cato nods, grabbing Lila's hand and swearing to her that someday he's going to win the Games, just for her because she was so nice to him. She smiles.
He thinks later she probably didn't believe him when he said he would win. He resolves then and there to show her.
(Break)
Peeta is eleven. He's sitting by the oven, waiting for the bread to be brown enough to turn over. He hears some scuffling outside and he tries to discretely investigate, but he attracts the attention of his mother and she pushes past him to look. She swears under her breath and heads outside, and he hears her say something. He peeks out the window and can't believe his eyes.
It's Katniss Everdeen. The last time he saw her was at her father's funeral. She's lost a lot of weight since then. She looks like she's starving, and it makes Peeta's heart hurt because he loves her. He's always loved her, ever since he was tiny.
He looks back at the bread. It's a little browner than it should be. He should probably turn it over now, but he can't bring himself to do it. He looks out the window at Katniss again. Even now, when it's raining and her clothes are too baggy and she looks like she probably needs to bathe, Peeta thinks she's beautiful.
The bread burns.
Peeta's mother comes storming into the kitchen. She's clearly not happy with him, but she isn't furious because she only slaps him and it doesn't even sting that much. Perhaps she's having a good day.
She tells him to take the bread out to the pigs. He doesn't consider giving it to the pigs at all. He tosses the loaves at Katniss. He knows his mother won't see because she's gone to get something from the cellar.
She looks up at him when she sees the loaves. He wants to say something.
He turns around and heads back inside. It's probably safer if he doesn't talk to her. He's tried lots of times. It never ended well for him.