Breakfast the next morning is hearty. The plates are full of eggs, sausage, and potatoes, and there is a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table. Katniss and Peeta both arrive before Haymitch, but neither starts eating. Despite her hunger, Katniss' stomach won't settle.
"Nervous?" Peeta asks.
She answers with a weak smile.
"Me, too."
"They hate us. The other tributes, I mean."
"How do you figure?"
"The parade. Remember how the boy from 2 was glaring at us? Others were, too."
"We did kind of steal the show," Peeta says with a grin. "But, hey, don't worry about them. They're just jealous because they won't be getting the kind of sponsors that we will. They can hate us all they want, but that's not going to help them. We're going to be fine. I promise."
For some reason she can't explain, she doesn't hesitate to believe him. Haymitch comes in a moment later, looking quite alert considering the early hour.
"Alright," he says, "down to business. We've already gone over your major strengths—you with your weapons and you with your strength—but is there anything you haven't mentioned that you can use?"
"Katniss is amazing at climbing trees," Peeta replies immediately. "Like, scary good."
"Peeta's fast," Katniss says, "and he's a quick learner."
They share a quick smile and Haymitch laughs loudly.
"Aren't you two just precious? That's good, though. All of that. Whatever you're good at, don't show it in training. You don't want to showcase your skills to the other tributes—they don't need to know. Try something new to expand your repertoire. They're going to tell you not to ignore survival skills and I agree. You're probably good at some of that stuff, sweetheart, so help him out. You understand?"
They both nod and Peeta repeats, "Don't show our strengths; learn new things."
"Good. Now, we're still going with this love story, so you guys are going to stick by each other as much as possible. Obviously, this is training, so you don't need to get all mushy or anything, but you're a team. There will be a few required things that they'll put you through – combat and obstacle course stuff so tributes can put on a better show and all. Try to pick up as much as you can without standing out. Besides that, there are a bunch of different stations that you can work at. That's where you'll be attached at the hip. If you can, see if you can pick up some more information on other tributes—skills, personality, even likes and dislikes. The more you know, the better off you are.
"You'll train for three days. On the fourth, you'll have private sessions with the Game Makers. This is where you pull out all the stops. Katniss, you light it up with that bow and arrow. Peeta, you throw around the heaviest thing you can find. They'll give you a score on a scale from one to twelve. Higher scores mean more sponsors, so don't hold back. Focus on training right now, though. That's your most pressing concern. Everything else can wait."
Now that she knows more about what they are going to do and what training will be like, Katniss is more at ease. She cleans her plate and drains her glass of orange juice. At ten to nine, Effie comes by to take them to the training center. They ride the elevator down and she delivers them with a surprisingly sincere "good luck."
The training center is a huge, open room filled with racks of weapons, obstacle courses, and areas set up for the different stations that Haymitch mentioned. There are a few tributes already there, standing around and looking as uncomfortable as Katniss is feeling. Her face must show it, too, because Peeta gives her hand a squeeze. He's smiling at her and she returns it before setting her shoulders and steeling her face. She will not be scared.
At nine o'clock sharp, a woman begins to talk. She goes over rules—no fighting with other tributes—and expectations—eager participation in compulsory exercises and various stations. Her speech mostly repeats Haymitch's, only using Capitol jargon and lacking in the bitter tone of when he said "so tributes put on a better show." When she is finished, she has them move to warm up. Katniss can't imagine that the Game Makers really care that much about them, but seeing as they have only a week before the games start, dealing with strained muscles and other injuries would probably be such a bother for them.
They go through the required exercises: hand-to-hand combat, strengthening exercises, demonstrations and practice with common close range weapons, and an obstacle course. Katniss watches Peeta as he clears the course. He's holding back, she knows, to not give away his speed, but his moves still seem a little clumsy. She takes him aside when he's done.
"What's up?" he asks, still slightly out of breath.
"You're too heavy on your feet."
"What?"
"You make way too much noise when you walk, let alone when you run. You slam your feet down. Try to be lighter. Land on your toes instead of your heel. It cushions the impact and helps you move more quietly."
"Okay, I'll try it. Thanks," he says, smiling as he gives her shoulders a quick squeeze.
"Holy shit, are you guys really still doing that?"
Katniss and Peeta turn to see one of the other tributes staring at them. She has a number 2 on her arm.
"Dude, if I were a Game Maker I would rig it so they'd have to kill each other," says a boy with a 1 on his sleeve.
"No way, man," the boy from 2 says. "After that shit they pulled at the opening ceremony, I'm gonna kill them myself."
"But, Cato," whines the girl from 1, "what would people do without their little darlings from 12? It's so cute when tributes other districts think they have a chance."
Katniss is fuming, barely recalling the rule about not fighting as she eyes a table of throwing knives just out of her arm's reach. Then, she feels Peeta's strong grip on her elbow and is startled when she hears the words that fly from his mouth.
"Go fuck yourselves and quit wasting our time."
Before she can add anything, he pulls her away and towards the knot tying station.
"I can stand up for myself, thanks," she snaps, yanking her arm away.
"I know you can," he replies calmly. "That's why I did it."
"That's—what?"
"That's why I didn't let you stand up for yourself. It's like Haymitch said: hiding our strengths. They'll think I'm the fighter and you're not, so they'll focus more attention on me. If it comes down to it, I've got a better chance hand-to-hand, anyway. You're a hunter. You're more dangerous with a little distance and surprise on your side."
She looks down at her feet. She, her father, and Gale occasionally use a technique that capitalizes on that fact. If they were having trouble stalking animals, she would climb a tree and they would herd game towards her. She can take anything down if it doesn't know she's there.
"I didn't meant to step on your toes," Peeta says to her silence. "Just trying to go along with the plan."
"No, it was smart. It's a good thing you're a thinker, because I was about to send a few knives their way. Of course, they're all fake so I probably would have just looked like an idiot."
"And that, sweetheart, is why the boy is in charge of getting sponsors," he says in his best impression of Haymitch.
She laughs and picks up a length of rope. She's already pretty good with knots, having learned while hunting. There are a few knots that she picks up from the instructor, such as one that is strong enough to suspend a person from a sturdy rope. She finds herself watching Peeta more than practicing, though. His fingers are surprisingly nimble as he manipulates the rope. He scowls a little bit when he concentrates. It makes each smile he cracks when he masters a knot that much brighter.
The day flies by and Katniss' stomach is rumbling when they leave in the evening. The two of them hit almost every survival station available. It turns out that Peeta does decorate the cakes at the bakery and he's just as talented with camouflage. He teaches her clever ways to use colors and shading. Learning from him and teaching in return takes more out of her than she would have figured. Food is all she can think about during her shower and sleep is all she can think about when she's done eating. She's out as soon as her head hits the pillow.
The next day is similar to the first. After the compulsory exercises, she and Peeta look around to try to pick a station. Most of the ones they haven't been to involve weapons. The careers have effectively monopolized those areas. She is not excited about being near them again.
"Don't worry," Peeta whispers, "I'll protect you, remember?"
She grins and elbows him in the ribs. His words do put her at ease, though. While she doesn't need his physical defense, he is a good buffer between her and interaction with other people. They find a station on knife fighting that no one is using. It's probably not glamorous enough for the careers when there are swords and maces to be used.
The instructor smiles politely at them and begins the training. He hands a knife to Peeta and brings him to a set of floor mats used for practice. They go through steps to teach different strikes. Some of them are useful, but others remind Katniss that it's all for show. Once the instructor moves on to help another person who has come to the station, she approaches Peeta.
"Forget most of what they guy just said," she tells him. "That one where you stab downwards from over your head is the most useless thing I've ever seen. You get a lot of power, but other than that, it's dumb."
"Wow," Peeta laughs. "Tell me how you really feel."
She kicks him lightly in the ankle and says, "I'm serious. Stand up like that again. You want to know how many ways I could kill you right now?"
"Not really. I'm just going to assume a lot."
"You're leaving every single one of your vital organs open. I wouldn't even need a weapon to take you out. Not to mention that the chances of you getting a fatal hit on a standing, conscious person from that angle are slim to none."
"Well, then what should I do?"
"You're best bet is striking upwards. It's much shorter and quicker and gives you easier access to their vitals. So, here, start down here." She puts her hand over his and lowers it. "When you stab, use your whole body if you can, because that'll give you more power than just your arm."
The heat from his breath breaks on her temple. She looks up at him and finds his eyes on her. Her other hand has found its way onto his lower back and her fingers are still curled around his. She steps back in surprise.
"I, uh…" he starts before his eyes flit over her shoulder. "I think you have a shadow."
Katniss turns to see the little girl from District 11 duck out of sight. She feels a sudden pang in her gut that makes her forget about her proximity to Peeta. The girl has big, wide eyes and their contrast with her dark skin gives her the face of an angel. She's so innocent. She's too young. Someone should have volunteered for her.
"Hey, let's go learn something else," he says, gently coaxing her out of her reverie. "Something neither of us know."
He does his best to keep her in the present for the rest of the day and the next, and she appreciates his effort. She does need to focus. It is, after all, a life or death situation. She needs to be on top of her game for her private session.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.
Her arm hurts from where she whipped it with the bowstring. Idiot. The elevator doors take forever to close and she makes the mistake of looking up at the Game Makers to see they are still watching her in stunned silence. I'm dead.
"Sure, Everdeen," Katniss says snidely to herself, "make sure they remember you. Make sure they fucking remember you. So stupid!"
She slams her fists into the wall before sinking to her knees. The sick feeling swirling in her stomach is the same one that took hold of her at the Reaping. Her insides feel like they're melting and her whole body is shaking. She knows she has a temper, but it has never gotten out of hand like this before. Her father has always been there to quell her anger. He's not here, though. His hand won't appear on her shoulder to reign her back into decent manners. No one else does that. Gale's hand would fan the fire to match his own rage. Her mother and Prim would let her be snappy and irate, hiding their smirks, until she was too tired to be angry anymore.
The elevator doors open onto the twelfth floor. Tears are blurring her vision as she strides quickly towards her room. People call to her from the sitting room, but it's not until she feels a warm hand on her elbow that she stops. There is one more person who has drawn her away from rashly lashing out. She still has enough pride left that she doesn't want everyone to see him have to do it again. She replaces her elbow with her hand and pulls Peeta into her room.
He closes the door behind them. Before he can ask her what's wrong, she crashes into him and muffles a sob in his chest. He stiffens momentarily before placing his hands carefully on her back. He lets her cry. The steadiness of his fingers brushing up and down her shoulder blade helps calm her down. It takes less than a minute for her to find her composure. When she does, she takes in a long sigh and turns her head so her cheek is pressed against his wet shirt.
"Sorry," she says.
"It's okay," he replies softly. "What happened?"
"I got nervous on my first shot and misfired pretty badly. I bet my arm's already black and blue."
"Katniss Everdeen got nervous?"
There's a shadow of that dimply smile on his face and her mood lifts, despite her best efforts to feel sorry for herself. She watches his face as he inspects her arm. Sure enough, there is a bright red and purple welt across her forearm. He runs his fingers over it and she flinches.
"Sorry," he apologizes.
"No, it's, um...you didn't, I mean, it didn't hurt."
The color of her face must match redness of the welt. She jumped because of the sparks that shot from his fingertips to her heart. Then, he leans down and she braces herself. His lips feel just as wonderful on her arm as they did on her cheek.
"Better?" he asks.
She just nods.
"So, that's not all this is about, I'm guessing."
Katniss pulls her arm away to cross it over her chest. "I snapped out of it and unloaded almost a whole quiver of arrows. I thought it was really good shooting, and I even added some other weapons stuff in for good measure, but when I looked up at the Game Makers, they were ignoring me. Not one of them was watching. They were all drinking and yelling about some roast pig that had just arrived. I saw the pig, complete with an apple in its mouth, and just lost it. I grabbed another arrow."
"And?"
"I grabbed an arrow and shot the apple right out of the pig's mouth. They...the looks on their faces, Peeta - they must hate me. I mean, I shot an arrow at them! And then I just said 'thanks,' and threw down the bow and left. I just left. I should have apologized. I should have-"
"Katniss," he interrupts, "they can't hate you."
"How do you-"
"Because people are too invested in us. Effie has been talking about what people around the Capitol are saying about us nonstop since I got back. The Game Makers won't just end something like that out of spite. It's a show, like Haymitch said. It's...it's all for entertainment. And we...we're entertaining to them."
They're a couple. She had forgotten. She is half of something that would quickly lose its worth if one of them were to die too soon. They'll keep her on strings until it's time to pick a winner. There's no way they'll let her win. That means she won't be able to keep her promise to Prim. Tears come back.
"Hey now," Peeta says as he puts his hands on her shoulders, "it'll all be fine. One thing at a time, okay? That's the best we can do right now. Why don't we get cleaned up before dinner? I'm sure we'll feel better after we have time to cool down and get something to eat."
She nods.
"Okay. I'll come get you in an hour and we can go together."
She nods again, but with a smile this time. Peeta is right, which is appearing to be a normal occurrence. A shower and fresh clothes that don't remind her of her private session helps her relax. He knocks on her door exactly when he said he would and wraps an arm around her as they walk to dinner.
