Hey, I'm alive! I know, I know, I'm terrible at updating, since this chapter is at least a week late. I promise I'll try to get better at sticking with my schedule. Your reviews and support mean the world to me, honestly. I love each of you who has read, reviewed, or followed my story! You guys are the best. I'd buy all of you hot chocolate and Happy Meals if I could.


Anyways, enjoy the chapter and review to let me know what you think!


p.s. I almost forgot…I have a surprise for you guys, can you guess? Hint: It has something to do with Christmas


The first thought which registers in my mind is, it can't be. There's a part of me trying desperately to convince myself of this, while the other part remains numb and unresponsive. Coincidences happen, right?

But no part of the Games have ever been purely coincidental. There's the undeniable truth, staring me in the face. No, I'm sure. I'd recognize that outfit anywhere. I force myself to glance at Peeta, realizing that he must see what I see, too.

Our eyes only lock for a brief second, but it's enough. I see my own horror reflected in his expression.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head quickly. Somehow I know this is definitely not the place to talk. Thankfully, he gets my signal and stays silent.

I turn my attention back to the stage, with a heavy feeling in my gut. I see Effie's mouth moving, but her words don't make any sense. And then the tributes are taking a bow, everyone's applauding, and it's over. Just like that.

Cinna has a daughter. Cinna, my beautiful stylist who died because of me. And then it hits me. I can't let her die. This is the only thing I can do to repay him, if anything. I kept Peeta alive, didn't I? Twice, even though I had a lot of help the second time. All of a sudden, my mind clears and I feel the tiniest spark of hope light up.

I follow the others out through the exit before speaking up. "Wait," I say, loud enough for everyone to hear me. They all stop to give me questioning looks. A moment passes. "Spit it out," Johanna says in exasperation.

I take a deep breath. They stay silent as I explain the situation as calmly as possible, trying not to sound irrational. Only when I'm finished does Finnick let out a long breath. "Of course she'll win," he says confidently. "You've got us to help." Annie gives me a reassuring smile. "That's right," she says softly. Peeta takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. Now we're all looking at Johanna.

"She'll make it out fine," she says gruffly. "If you had any sense, Brainless, you'd know that by now. She'll have sponsors tripping over themselves to send in anything she needs, with us being famous and all." I swallow hard. "Thank you," I say, my voice catching a little.

"Let's go," Peeta says quietly. Our eyes meet again, and this time his tell me everything will be alright.


We're in Finnick and Annie's room, in the luxurious house which Plutarch arranges for us to temporarily live in. It's basically a mansion, with five floors, a swimming pool, a gym, and a sauna. We've each got our own rooms, with Finnick and Annie sharing one, Peeta and I in another, and Johanna occupying one by herself.

We've been trying to talk about strategies, but it's hard to be efficient when we keep ordering food and beverages from the screen in the wall. I remember the device from my room in the Training Center back then, which brings back a few uncalled for memories, but in the end, hunger wins over.

"So," Johanna says, her mouth full of puff pastry. "Her name is Juliet." "Let's list all of the tributes on paper," Finnick suggests, grabbing a notepad and pen from the large oak desk. We crowd around him and rack our memories as he starts to write. We manage to come up with eighteen names, which I think is pretty impressive.

"Okay," Finnick declares, sitting back on his heels. "Any excess information? Such as, say, possible strengths or weaknesses?" Annie frowns. "Marcus," she muses slowly, "He looked like the youngest, maybe around thirteen?" Finnick beams at her as he jots that down next to Marcus's name. "That's great, love," he says enthusiastically. Johanna fakes gagging. "Dimitri," she says confidently. "That guy with the tattoos? I'll bet he's something. Looks like he can kill, that's for sure." It's added to the list.

Peeta volunteers insight on a few more of the tributes, and after that there's really not much left for us to do. It's a start, though. Tomorrow, according to Plutarch, we'll get to personally meet all of the tributes so we can decide who we want to sponsor and such. Soon after, the training will begin, followed by the parade and interviews the night before the Games take place, as usual.

After some more delicacies and small talk, we each wander off in the mansion to do some exploring. Johanna heads straight for the gym, and Finnick and Annie decide to go swimming, leaving me alone with Peeta.

I try to think of interesting things to say, but I've never been good at this kind of thing. And anyways, it shouldn't be like this, the two of us. He is not a stranger, I remind myself. We've been through hell and worse together, so why is it so hard to talk like we used to, let alone grow back together?

"Let's go to the sauna," he suggests after a few minutes of silence. "Might as well enjoy ourselves while we're here."

I find myself feeling glad I'd agreed once we're in the water. The temperature is just right, and the thin veil of mist feels cool and invigorating on our skin. We're sitting next to each other, shoulders barely touching. The initial awkwardness soon fades after a few minutes as we both begin to relax.

I gather up my courage to speak up first. "What do you think?" I ask. "I mean, it wasn't by chance, was it?" I sound desperate even to myself. I realize I'm afraid to hear his answer.

He pauses before answering me. "It's not like I know anything more than you do on the subject," he says matter-of-factly. "But this I do know. The war is far from over. The people, they're still angry. At this point, anything, really, could set off another rebellion. They want deaths to avenge their own loved ones. Because they're so far gone that they want to believe revenge is the answer. And it's not."

He grabs my hand suddenly, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Don't you get it, Katniss?" he says, almost pleadingly. "The Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games are not going to change things for the better, if anything. It's never going to end. The deaths of twenty-three Capitol children aren't going to bring back anyone. It won't unite us into a whole nation, or lead to a better future. All it's going to do is tear families apart one more time, the same way they broke us."

Yes, I see now. His eyes grip mine with startling intensity. "What do we do?" I whisper. "I can't let her die. Not after Cinna." He sags suddenly, like all the energy has been drained out of him. His voice is rugged and weary when he answers me.

"Stay alive."


By morning, I've reached a sort of inner peace with my mind, at least for now. Stay alive. The words are what fuels me to get up from bed and face the day. If they're expecting an unforgettable year, let them have it. After all, there's nothing stopping me from playing against the rules. Since I'm going to be a piece in the game, I'm going to play on my own terms this time.

The others seem to sense my mood. Johanna is the first one to break the silence at the breakfast table. "How about a speech?" she suggests. "You know, one of those inspiring things you said during the rebellion, for the propos. Since we're going to be fighting again and all." "Not literally, of course," she adds quickly as Annie shoots her a worried look.

I take a deep breath. "That's right," I say evenly. "We're not going to be fighting anyone anymore. We're going to fight the Games in itself. The tributes aren't the real enemy. I can't say anything for sure, but I'm betting there's a bigger reason behind these Games." I see Finnick and Johanna exchange a look. I continue. "President Snow once told me, I quote,"We both know I'm not above killing children, but I'm not wasteful. I take life for very specific reasons.""

"He may not have been a good President, but these words, at least, are true. Killing is always a personal thing. Take us, for instance. I killed Marvel because he killed Rue. Cato killed Thresh because he killed Clove." "What about Prim?" Johanna cuts in suddenly. "Did Gale kill her for a reason?"

I have to turn away. "That was over the line, Jo," Finnick says quietly. Someone takes my hand under the dining table. It's Annie, with concerned eyes and a solemn expression. I feel a surge of gratitude towards her, sweet, lovely Annie who'd reach out to anyone in need. I give her hand a little squeeze to let her know I'm okay.

"Sorry," Johanna says uncertainly. "It's fine," I say quickly. I can tell she's genuinely embarrassed, and I know she didn't mean anything, even if it hurt. I clear my throat. "Anyways, as I said, I believe there's a bigger reason behind this year's Games. Apart from revenge, that is. Whatever it is, though, I'm going to find out." I bite my lip. "I've always preferred to hunt alone," I say. "But after everything that's happened in the past year, I would rather have you guys at my side than anything or anyone else. I need you to do this with me."

I look at each of them, from Annie to Finnick, Johanna, and finally, Peeta. Finnick raises his glass. "To friends," he says. "Justice, peace, and a better Panem." We toast.