So, I'll come right out and say it. My ideal little relationship-tree for the Hunger Games is exactly what I'm leading up to: Peeta and Katniss together (romantically), Gale slightly bitter but nonetheless happy with his life, the two boys close (because I do believe that if they never had Katniss, they'd be quite close; at least, I want to believe that). Oh, and that whole Prim-and-Peeta thing. :D

The Latin name of the "common Rue" is Ruta graveolens, hence Rue's last name.

I don't own the Hunger Games.

It isn't hard to get used to Gale again. On the first day back hunting, itstarts out rather stiffly, but we just swing back into the usual program. In fact, it's almost like nothing ever happened. The next couple of months ease me closer to him, without sacrificing Peeta. Actually, there's no trouble about letting go of Peeta. Somehow – don't ask me how; I'm still dumbfounded, myself – they end up being real friends. Gale gives him a better chance than he did last time. They don't need me. In fact, they have a boys night with Peeta's brothers every other weekend.

Don't worry. I don't feel left out.

Well, not too much.

"No Peeta or Gale today, Katniss?" Mother asks me, watching as I doodle absently. It's some lazy day in that awkward shift between winter and spring; I found one of those seed-head dandelions in the Meadow today, which excites me. I can't wait until the bright yellow flowers turn up. Last year feels like forever ago.

I shrug. "Well -" Then, I look up at the door. Someone has knocked. I smile, seeing Peeta peeking through the windows. "Speak of the devil."

"Gale and your sister are at my house," says Peeta brightly. "So you should come."

"How did Prim end up there?" I ask, already getting a sweater on.

Peeta laughs. "Gale was coming over to my place – he and Tom reportedly have some 'unfinished business' to take care of -"

"Gale's sore that he lost?" I guess.

He smiles. "Gale will be insulted to hear about your lack of confidence in his wrestling abilities, but yeah. Anyway, he came across Prim when she was coming home and told her to come. Then he sent me to get you."

I turn back to the kitchen. "I'll be back before -"

Mother smiles. "Don't worry about it. Have fun."

I think she's just happy that I have a life.

As I walk to town with Peeta, I ask a little suspiciously, "Is your mother home?"

Peeta grins. "Yeah. I think Tom plans these days to infuriate her, actually. Also, I think she might be afraid of Gale. He's more intimidating-looking than you."

"Hey!"

"What?" he says, still practically laughing at me. "You're little Miss 'niss, right?"

I roll my eyes and lunge to hit him. He leaps nimbly out of the way. "Fight like a man," I say teasingly.

Peeta winks. "You have to catch me first."

I laugh, running after him all the way to his house. Along the way, though, he ends up getting me once or twice. He seizes me from behind by the time we get to the bakery. "Got you!" he cries. I turn around to him resentfully, and then shove my elbow into his gut. "Oof."

"That," I say haughtily, "was for calling me little."

"But you are."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He just gives me a giggle and runs into the house. "Help!" I hear him yell. "Katniss wants to hurt me!"

As I walk in, Gale says dryly, "Then none of us can help you." He's leaning against the doorway to the back of the house as Mrs. Mellark glares at us from behind the counter. Mr. Mellark is probably baking inside. I follow Peeta and Gale into the house – Tom and Eddy are wrestling; Prim is watching with (disturbing) interest.

Peeta laughs at Gale's response. He turns around to me and gets down on his knees. "Okay. I give up. Be merciful to me, Katniss."

I smile. "Okay. I'll spare you."

He clings to my ankles. "Oh, thank you. Thank you – thank you, your Mercifulness."

Laughing, I pull my ankles out of his grip. "All right, all right!" I remember him saying, all those months ago – Anything to make you smile. He's still doing well on that front.

"Hey, little sister," says Tom breathlessly. (Eddy won, clearly.) "How goes you?"

"I goes well," I reply.

Tom sits up, leaning by Prim's dangling legs on the couch. "You excited to see our victor come to visit?"

Oh. That's right.

Rue Graveolens, tribute from District Eleven. The little girl who defied the odds is coming sometime near the end of this week for the stupid Victory Tour. The Victory Tour is placed halfway between the end of the last Hunger Games and the beginning of the next one, to keep the horror fresh and immediate – it's usually briefest here in District Twelve, where we don't matter. It's the first time in a long time that a lower-district tribute has won, though. Maybe we'll get more attention. Maybe I hope that's what will happen. It's strange, perhaps, but I want to actually meet this little girl. She's meant more to me than any other stranger, and I want to see her.

It's not customary for the people in the Districts to meet the victor face-to-face, but maybe I'll get lucky. I can at least cross my fingers.

"It must be hard for her," says Prim glumly. "To have to look into the faces of all those people... imagine, Bee's parents!"

My throat constricts as the conversation goes on, remembering the special relationship that our female tribute shared with the victor. I can't even begin to imagine how painful it would be.

"Kat?" asks Peeta gently, interrupting conversation. "Something wrong?"

"Nothi -" I croak. I clear my throat. "Nothing."

Peeta smiles. "Liar, liar."

"Nothing," I insist. "I'm fine." I look to Gale. I know him well enough. That expression shows that he's torn between being worried about me and irritated that Peeta was worried about me first.

There are those little moments when Gale still gets jealous. And I notice. And it bothers me.

Peeta frowns, but lets it go.

"I wonder if Haymitch is still as drunk as he was last year..."

...

It feels like the true first day of spring. I stand at the edge of the Meadow, the dandelions tickling my toes. Now being quite good friends with Peeta, they set off bells in my head. I've never stopped connecting the dandelions to Peeta and to my father. Now more than ever, they are all related: Peeta Mellark, the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed. I stare down at the big dandelion by my feet, wondering if I should pick it, like I had all those years ago in the school yard.

Then, a hand comes down in front of me from behind, taking the flower. Peeta. It's strange that I didn't hear him. That is one of the larger things he and Gale differ in. Peeta (normally) apparently is not aware of his footfalls, which is only strange to me because I'm so used to Gale's stealthy walk. You could sneak up on a murderer with our tread – or, well, some game, in our case.

He pulls up beside me, holding up the dandelion. He smiles. "I remember, you know."

"Remember what?" I ask, not taking the dandelion. Gently, he inserts it behind my ear.

"I remember that day after I gave you the bread," replies Peeta. "We were in the school yard, and then I saw you, and you saw me... and then you looked away. And you picked the dandelion."

I look up at him curiously. "You remember that? All those years ago?"

"You don't?"

"I was starving, though. You'd saved my life. And my family's," I say. "I don't know why you'd remember it."

Peeta's cheeks turn a light shade of pink. He shrugs. "I got a beating that day. Maybe it was important to me."

I smile. "Sure, Peeta."

He takes a step into the Meadow, and I follow him. He asks, "Are you excited to see Rue today?"

"A little." I sigh. "A little scared, too."

"Why?" Peeta raises a brow.

"Oh, I don't know. It's just... like being excited to meet someone you've admired from afar, you know?" I ask, mostly thinking out loud. "And then you finally meet them... well, I won't really be meeting her, I guess, but it's still..."

"I get what you're saying."

I wrinkle my nose. "I don't remember ever caring so much for a stranger. It's so weird."

"It's not weird, Kat," he says. "I've cared for a stranger. Well, that person was basically a stranger."

"You're normal, though." I smile. "I'm cold and heartless."

Peeta crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "Are we really going to have this argument again, Kat?"

"I guess not." I grin.

The two of us walk in the Meadow, just talking. I recall all the times I did this with Gale, and how it was just this easy. But what he did caused a rift between us. I don't think our relationship can ever be the same. I know he still likes me that way; I can never look at him in the eye without remembering that – much like how I felt once, about Peeta.

"Hey, Katniss," he murmurs suddenly. Peeta motions to the edge of the Meadow, to the woods. I can't believe I hadn't noticed. We're close enough to notice, anyway.

Well, the person standing by the fence is very small. I suppose it's not too big of a deal that we couldn't see her. Peeta rushes up to her before I can say anything. I hiss, "Peeta!" He doesn't stop, though, so I'm forced to go after him.

She looks different face-to-face. More real. In my eyes, what she represents is horrifying. I didn't imagine it to be this frightening. She is so innocent-looking, though. She's dark, mostly, with thick, black hair and dark brown skin and eyes. I find her appearance to be endearing, though. She's someone who looks just approachable.

The little girl spins around, meeting our eyes. Hers widen. "Oh! Please don't tell them I'm here."

"Rue?" Peeta says. "Rue Graveolens?"

Rue sighs. "Yes, that's me."

I stare blankly.

"Peeta Mellark," says Peeta. Mr. People Person. "And this is my friend, Katniss."

"Oh," says Rue, "well, it's nice to meet you." She seems almost disinterested, as if we're not worthy. Maybe she's not as sweet and gentle as she looked on screen.

Peeta, however, isn't about to give up. "Don't tell who you're here?"

"I thought you'd..." Rue hesitates, then changes her sentence around. "My mentor, Chaff, and the escort, Lola Bagatelle – they're probably looking for me now. I didn't like it, though."

"Didn't like what?" asks Peeta.

"How they always know where I am, all the time," she mumbles. "I had more freedom even before all this stuff happened."

Sympathy from me rushes out to her. And pity. I'm ashamed to admit it. I do feel pity. For the rest of her life, she will be scrutinized and hurt and... trapped. All her life.

"So I came here," says Rue, looking wistfully out past the fence. "But then I found a fence, here, too."

"It's not on," I say. I move beside her and branch against the wire. "It's never on."

Rue looks to the woods. "So have you been there?"

I hesitate. Whatever comes out this girl's mouth can be said to the country. Anything that comes out her mouth must first come through her ears or her eyes. I can't say anything to her. I don't trust her that much. Anyway, she's an outsider. "No," I lie.

"So are you just going to hang around here?" Peeta asks dryly. He's changing the subject for me.

Rue is still watching me. I think she can tell that I was lying. "Just for a little while." She sits down.

I interrupt the silence that follows with a whisper. "Are you okay, Rue? How are you?"

She looks up at me, apparently surprised. "I'm not."

"We can listen, you know," I murmur gently, bending down in front of her. "I know you've gone through things that I can't even imagine. And I don't want to pretend that I know what you've gone through. But... I do want to listen."

"Katniss," she says after a very long silence, "that's a plant."

I nod. "Yeah."

"Katniss?" She pauses, watching my face. I force myself to stare into her eyes. This little girl who I've admired and dreamed of meeting. There is something about her that draws me to her. I can't put my finger on it. "You know, something tells me I'm happier than you are – despite what I've been feeling. I think I'd like to listen to you."

The truth is, there are a lot of things troubling me, but I imagine it's nothing compared to Rue's worries. I frown, reluctant. "But -"

"I'm sick of hearing about me, Katniss!" she says tiredly. "After the Games, it was me, me, me, and I'm sick of it. Let me care about you."

I smile slightly, because for so long, that last sentence had been my line. At least, it had always felt that way.

I take a deep breath. "Well..."

Y'all better give me some reviews. I lost some sleep to write this! ;D (And, yes, it's short - but I'm giving you daily updates. C'mon. xD)