It was an unusually hot afternoon. Aside from the rustling of leaves in the tranquil breeze, the air was silent and stagnant with heat.

Virian Aubrey stood kicking at a patch of decaying flowers as she stared out into the electric sky. Over callused fingers, she pulled on a pair of frayed leather gloves and began to pull the lost roses from the garden. It was nearly time for the Reaping Day and all families wanted their homes to look as neat as possible. The Hunger Games were a source of pride for District 2, and that pride burst from every brick building in the village in the forms of banners and flags.

Virian didn't much care for the Games herself. In solace, she knew that if her name were ever drawn from the bowl, others would claw their way to the stage to take her place. Indeed, every year it was with valor, vainglory, and programmed bloodlust that hundreds of young people lept at the Reaping platform, teeth gnashing, arms waving, all vying to be the first to volunteer as tribute for The Hunger Games.

The children of District 2 broke their backs and risked their lives for the Games. In school, some kids took special electives to train for the Games. Other lessons were always taught quickly. Other lessons were always forgotten. It made no difference, in the end. You either fought to repay the Capitol's supposed favor or you toiled in the masonry pits.

Virian could not imagine life in either of these scenarios. She brushed blonde strands of hair from her round, reddened face as she worked, lost in thought. But the time was drawing near for her to choose her future. But her future was already gone.

It had been a day not unlike this. Balmy and peculiar for District 2's mountainous topography. In alphabetical order, District 2's youth stood before the Reaping stage. The Capitol escort, a man with shocking purple hair and dyed gold skin, presented a series of videos and rallying speeches to ignite a crowd already rippling with anticipation and excitement. Near the beginning of the line with an A last name, Virian was bracing herself for the hurtling volunteers that would soon overtake her place in the square. She peered around at her classmates and neighbors before catching the eye of one Cato LaFlamme.

Cato gave her a half smile and turned to look back at the escort. Virian looked down at her scuffed shoes. Her heart had been set on him since they were young. His bravery and outgoing nature had made her feel safe. She was not a thing of beauty or even ugliness. Virian existed in a quiet state, a girl with long hair like straw and a muscular, thick build. Her eyes were blue and bright, but circled with nights unslept. Her teeth yellowed slightly from lack of dentists in the village and one too many cups of spicy tea. But Cato had always spared a moment for the girl. Books that fell to the floor after a clumsy trip were scooped up with toned arms. Broken pencils in class were always quickly replaced by thick fingers. The little things that gave Virian a knot in her stomach and a blush on her cheeks.

In the afternoons, Virian liked to sit out and watch the sky from the hill behind their academy. She sprawled out across the grass and thought about nothing in particular. One cool, sunny day, a shadow fell over her as she dreamed.

"What're you doing up here, Viri?" Cato asked. She sat up, surprised. "I'm always here after class. All there is to do at home is needlework and cleaning. Why are you here?" Cato grinned. He was covered in sweat from running the track around the school, in Games class. "Working on running with traction. The hill helps with that." "Well, you can hardly breathe. Come sit with me for a moment," Virian said before she became too afraid to do so. Cato sat down on a patch of clovers and accepted the mason jar of water Virian handed to him. They stared out at the village below, a tightly knit swath of brick buildings shielded on all sides by domineering foothills and their peaks. Large fields and meadows made a buffer zone between the mountains and the town, and had they turned around, they would see the only road leaving the village, connecting it to other communities in the district. In the distance to the north, a towering spectacle of Earth jutted into the sky. The military command center of Panem was housed in that mountain.

Cato turned to Virian, "Isn't it beautiful here? Don't you love this town?" Virian smiled. Classic District 2 pride. She suspected he didn't see the crumbling stones on every building, and ignored the frequent power outages. The bread shortage was getting worse and reports from the Capitol denied this every evening when the news appeared on the holo-vision. But she breathed in the air and tasted home nonetheless. "Yes. Yes, I love this town."

Cato looked at his feet. Patched school running shoes grinding into the soil with his heels. "I'm gonna volunteer you know. This is gonna be my year." "I know you'll volunteer. You'll have to push for it though. There will be so many others…"

Cato stared at her, a frown etched into his face. "You don't think I can do it?" Virian suppressed a laugh. "Of course you can, Cato. I just know there'll be a lot of competition."

Cato looked back at the ground, "To bring pride to my district...to win for our home. It's occupied almost every thought I've had for years. I love this place. I want to bring something back." Virian looked at Cato with a far off gaze. "I respect that. I'd miss you, though," she said, almost whispering. Cato looked back at her dazedly, "I'd miss you too. You know how I said the Games have occupied almost every thought? The other ones…" suddenly, a whistle blew from the base of the hill. "LaFlamme! What the hell are you sitting up there for? Get back down here, if you want to have any shot at these Games you'd better be down here before I take another breath!"

Virian's mind drifted back to last year's Reaping.

She wiped a tear from her eye as she waited for the escort to call out names. "As always, ladies first!" Virian had no idea who was called, because the hoard of bodies came scrambling forward immediately and knocked her nearly to the ground. A girl called Clove Elestren from a different village emerged as victor, and already had blood on her hands from punching some poor fool that was in her way. "And now, for the gentlemen." Virian stepped back from the crowd, eyes hungrily searching for Cato in the chaos. The tribute was called. The swarm began. Virian closed her eyes and when she opened them again, Cato stood next to Clove on the stage. She stumbled back into the crowd and quickly dashed past some lazy peacekeepers to her hill. She threw up. She didn't watch the Games that year. That was the last time she saw the boy she had loved for so long.

But it was useless to think of such things now, a year later. She walked past the posters of Cato and Clove with feigned indifference as she carried bushels of dead flowers to the landfill. Returning home, she saw her mother had already prepared a spread for the dinnertime viewing of the Quarter Quell announcement. Potato dumplings, a warm beet soup, and a meager helping of chicken, all arranged neatly next to a pot of tea simmering on the stove. It wasn't much, there was still no bread or sweet jam to go with it, but it was something. Her older brother lay on the sofa, neither a mason or a tribute or anything else. He would eat the majority of the food and not repay it. At eighteen, even Virian took in sewing work to keep the family afloat. Her mother worked at the local hospital as a nurse and her father, far away at the military mountain doing some sort of research for the army. Her older sister worked in the stone pits. They were an average family.

The anthem of Panem, "The Horn Of Plenty", came roaring over the holo-vision and the group scrambled to get their food from the kitchen and sit before the program in the living room. All week, they'd been coming up with ideas for what the Quell might be. But nothing could prepare them for the shocking announcement that the Games were to be fought by existing victors. Even from inside the home, Virian could hear shouting from her neighbors and clamoring from the teenagers who had wanted to volunteer.

"I wonder who it'll be," her brother said with a mouth full of soup, the red beet concoction dripping down onto his shirt. "Enobaria, maybe. She's got the teeth and everything, I bet she'd be up for that," her sister chimed in. Virian thought selfishly that at least she had to only see Cato off once before swallowing the emotion that overtook her with a sip of chai. She left the sofa without comment and went into the small room she shared with her sister and began her tailoring for the evening.

A few days later, the Reaping was pandemonium and celebration. Virian's sister was correct in selecting Enobaria as the female tribute. A beautiful copper skinned woman with teeth filed into lethal weapons. Clove's mentor. A freakishly large man aptly named Brutus was selected as the male tribute.

But the pandemonium quickly turned from joy to trepidation. Reports flew in through underground channels that other districts were rebelling against the Capitol. Virian couldn't quite understand. She saw the problems in her district, but always assumed they were caused by the people who lived there. Without the Capitol, they would have nothing. Wouldn't they? What would Cato think?

It was another warm day, spring really coming into it's own, when Virian arrived at school to see a flock of peacekeepers huddling at the doorway, handing out flyers to any student that looked over 16. Virian crinkled her brow. Peacekeepers recruited the oldest class at the end of the year, after exams were done. Never before had she seen them doing something quite like this.

"Join us! Join us!" one man called out to the students. A piece of paper was shoved into Virian's pale hands. It read as followed:

Dear Valued Citizen
Are you looking for adventure, high wages, and a way to show your gratitude to the Capitol? Do you enjoy law and order, and value security above all? The Panem Peacekeeping Gendarmerie may be for you! Speak to your local representative today and be set for life!

Virian crumpled the paper, stuffed it in her dress pocket, and went on to her class. The classroom was a limestone room with large windows, low, flickering lights, and a few posters taped carelessly to the wall. The only object that appeared to be handled with any care was the flag of Panem, draped across the wall parallel to the blackboard. The blackboard at the head of the room was covered in a biology lesson, written in haphazard handwriting. No one cared about biology in District 2. A small collection of spitballs and paper airplanes lay on the floor near the teacher's feet.

The day drew on and on. After the last bell, Virian headed for the hill, passing a large poster of Cato, now fading and fraying, taped to the outside wall. On most days, she ducked past it and ran. But today, she stopped. She stared up at her towheaded hero and slowly removed the peacekeeper's bulletin from her pocket. WIth trembling fingers, she unraveled it and read it again.

To serve as a peacekeeper is to sacrifice twenty years of your life for the Capitol. No love save for the Capitol. But it also was a way to give back to Panem, to District 2. And isn't that what Cato had always wanted? She had no one to direct her love toward anyway. She'd might as well spend it somehow like this.

"I want to make you proud," Virian whispered into the wind.

The next evening, she stood before her family, awkwardly trying on her new peacekeeper's suit. Her father had phoned a congratulations. Her mother and sister had cried. Her brother gave her a thumbs up from the couch. A heavy knock came at the door, and two peacekeepers stood at her threshold.

"Welcome, cadet Aubrey. I'm commander Ogilvy. I'll be the leader of your squadron. And you're in for quite the treat," commander Ogilvy stepped into Virian's home, and took a piece of candy from a bowl on the tea table. "You," he said with toffee on his teeth, "will be accompanying us to District 12! Your preliminary tests yesterday show you'd be good at handling such a district. Congratulations, you're prime!" he stuffed more candy through his lips. The other peacekeeper, a woman Virian knew as Zenobia, handed her an official summons card.

Virian Aubrey was to report to the train station tomorrow in full uniform, and join her squadron on Operation Firefight, the name given to the mission in District 12.

"Cato, watch over me."