He remembers the first day he met her. He, big and bad at seven years old, was pushing around the other kids at the Academy, proving that he was top dog. When he comes to her, he is completely surprised when she shoves him right back. She, in her braided pigtails, glares at him. She's so small. He looks down at the girl, her nose scrunched up in anger.

She sticks her tongue out at him. " You're not the only one who knows how to push, stupid-head. My daddy taught me not to let bullies push me around. He's a victor, you know."

Her arms were crossed, and her little hands were twitching. His face softens. "My dad is a victor, too. Wanna play on the gauntlets? First one who falls off is a Seam kid!"

She suddenly stands up straight, and gives him a toothy grin.


He's terrified, but his dad says that everyone gets scared on the first day of school. When they are waiting to line up, his dad points out a girl wearing a red plaid dress. Her hair's in two intricate braids.

"See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," he tells him. He's in shock. He asks why she'd want to marry a coal miner when she could've had him. "Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen."

The words hit deep into his head. Even the birds?

Later, in music class, the teacher asks if anyone knows the valley song. He notices the girl, the one with the braids and the coal miner dad, get excited. Her hand shoots straight up into the air. The teacher pulls her to the front and makes her sing the song for the rest of the class. In that moment, he swears the birds outside fall silent.

And right when the song ends, he knows, just like the girl's mom, he's a total goner.


"You're such a jackass."

He smirks. He's got some kid pinned under him. The poor kid has a bloody nose and a black eye. "Oh, shove off. What are you gonna do about it?"

She cocks her head and raises her eyebrows. "Fight me. That is, unless you're afraid to hit a girl."

They fight a lot. That's how they settle arguments. Normally the girls don't pick fights with him because they know they'll lose. She doesn't. He smirks again, steps off the the boy, and tells him to piss off.

The girl, still small compared to the others, circles him slowly, watching him intently. Her nose is scrunched up. He draws forward slightly and her arms go immediately in a defensive position. He laughs at her for being so gullible. In a matter of seconds, she tackles him, and he falls to the ground. He tries to throw her off, but she's got a knife in her hands pressed against his neck.

She grins. "I win."


She's huddled beneath a tree. The rain is pouring down mercilessly, and the tree is offering no protection. It pains him to see her like this, so frail and vulnerable. She stares at him with empty eyes.

He turns his head, checking for his mother. She's already annoyed with him; if she caught him now, he'd be dead for sure. The welt on his cheekbone stings.

He looks down at the two scorched loaves of bread in his hands. After a moment of hesitation, he tears off the burnt pieces and tosses them at the pigs. Then, he quickly throws the two loaves, perfectly intact, at her. Before anyone sees, he ducks back into the kitchen.


When she volunteers, he momentarily panics. He shakes the fear out of head. She knows how to handle herself, so she'll be okay in there. He watches as she proudly makes her way to the podium and takes her place on stage.

As soon as some boy's name is called, he yells out that he'll volunteer. While he pushes through the crowd, his friends are slapping his back and cheering him on. He stands next to her. He turns his head, and she smiles. He likes how she smiles with him and only him; she pretty much has a permanent scowl on her face. She's thrilled. It's their twisted little game, but now for real.

He almost smiles back.


Her voice is hollow when she tells the pink-haired woman her name. He notices she's trying hard not to cry. The woman is bursting with excitement.

His gut wrenches. Not her. Anyone but her. He tries to ration with himself. Calm down. She knows how to hunt. She'll be alright.

When he hears his name, his jaw drops. He looks at his brothers desperately when Effie Trinket asks for volunteers. They say nothing. Inside, he knows they wouldn't. There is no such thing as family on reaping day. He slowly walks up to the stage, struggling to remain emotionless. He knows the kids who cry are targeted as weaklings. He glances at her. She's staring at him, eyebrows knit together.

After the mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, they're ordered to shake hands. He takes her hand and squeezes it gently. A brief look of confusion flashes across her face.

He knows he'll die. He stands no chance. At least now, it won't be awkward eye contact with her anymore. He just wishes it could be under different circumstances.


The alliance is doing well. He's glad she's there with him. Together they share the success of death.

The girl from 1 is really annoying. Sure, she's hot, but she's fake. It's all artificial etiquette and idle talk. She doesn't fight well, either. Lover Boy doesn't have much to offer too, but he knows where Everdeen is. He tries to pretend he's not there. Once he leads them to her, he'll kill him.

Of course, he never shows how happy he is that she's there. People would catch on. He thinks she's happy, too, because he's never seen her like this before. They share secret smiles as they slit another kid's neck. They laugh together when they chase their next victim. Sometimes, he catches himself looking at her. He never noticed the way she bites her lip in concentration when she sharpens her knives. Never noticed how pretty she was under the glow of a fire.


He knows she must hate him. After all, he is hanging around the Careers. He despises them. It makes him sick that they actually enjoy murdering all these people. But, if he doesn't stick to the alliance, they'll find her. He's doing his best to steer them in the wrong direction. It hurts that she's treating him so coldly, but it's better that she doesn't know. The performance wouldn't be as believable.

That's all this is. A performance.

Besides, being so close to the Careers has its advantages. He knows their weak points. They're all spoiled brats. They have no idea how to hunt and gather food. He knows that Glimmer has a bow and arrow, though she's complete trash at it. Once she dies, he'll make sure to grab it for her.

He thinks about how she'll react when he gives them to her.

That's the whole point of this, he tells himself, to keep her safe.

He needs to protect her.


It's just the two of them now. Everyone else died. He couldn't be more relieved.

He'll kill them both, Lover Boy and his little girlfriend. He'll kill them cold, so the victors will be both from District 2. Imagine the honor and glory from that.

Caesar Flickerman's invitation to the Cornucopia does not go unnoticed. They really need it. Ever since the Cornucopia's supplies have been wiped out (at least Marvel killed that stupid girl from 11), they've been in trouble. Even if there's not food in the pack, there's got to be something good. Maybe armor?

He knows that there's four other tributes still alive: Katniss and Peeta, the big kid from 11, and some girl from 5. He hasn't seen her around much. He plans on approaching the feast like another bloodbath. They'll take the other bags, too.

She's confident that they'll get what they need. He advises her to pack light; bring nothing but her knives. It makes for fast running. She agrees, as long as he promises District Twelve is her kill. She says she'll give the audience a good show.

When they leave camp, they nod at each other. Another free-for-all. Hopefully they run into the other tributes and can wipe them all out at once. He sees it: the end.

He looks at her. He knows she's feeling it, too. He can see it all over her face.

Euphoria.


He can't believe she left. He told her specifically not to leave. She'll get killed out there, all just for some medicine for his damn leg. Not worth it.

What's even worse is that he can't do anything about it. She could be dying out there, and he can't do a single thing to help her. He punches the cave wall in frustration. Immediately after, he moans in pain from the sudden movements. His leg isn't doing any better. Maybe he does need the medicine. Then he could be actually helpful.

They could go home.


"Cato! Cato, help me!" she screams.

Adrenaline surges through his body. Where is she? What's wrong? Chills run down his spine as she shrieks his name. He sees her lying on the ground, trembling. He runs to her side. She's turned pale, even more so than usual. There's no blood running down her forehead, but he feels an indent in her skull.

He starts to panic. "Clove, stay with me. For the love of God, Clove, stay with me!" He's holding her weak body, searching her face. As he shakes her, she groans in pain.

"Clove, please. Don't fucking leave me here. Please. Don't go, please, I'm begging you, don't go." Tears begin to run down his cheeks.

He cradles her head in his shaky hands. She's looking up at him silently, eyelids fluttering. Her skin, now a sickly white, is cold.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he whispers.

Her hand reaches up and softly brushes the hair out of his face. She smiles at him feebly. After a moment, he sees the life drain from her eyes. He shakes her again desperately, and her mouth falls open slightly. Her body goes slack. No. No, this can't be it. He screams her name again and again.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be the best. That was the whole point of growing up in the Academy. They were supposed to be victors.

The familiar cannon booms, only this time it fills his heart with dread. Anger. Sadness.

They were supposed to be victors together.


He let out a sigh of relief when he saw her come into the cave, triumphant look on her face. She holds up a little orange bag and grins.

He can only reprimand her for so long. Without warning, she stabs his arm with a needle and slowly presses down on the plunger.

They both exhale in satisfaction. Things are looking good.

They could win this thing.


AN: Hey everyone! Reading the part where Cato kneels at Clove's side always kills me. I started to draw parallels between Clato and Keeta. I mean, they obviously had some serious chemistry. Anyways, thanks for reading and please review x