This quick update is your reward for sticking with me through that last chapter! I know it wasn't quite up to par, but I'm hoping this is a juicy enough treat to make up for it. This is my longest chapter yet, and it features more of our lovely Clove.

Reviews-I'm actually going to reply this time!

anon: Thanks so much for reading all the way in Indonesia! I really appreciate the review.

ferb: Your reviews are awesome because you almost always include something for me to think about. This chapter is definitely indebted to you!

Nel: Thanks for thanking me! I hope I've gotten the mix of light and dark pretty well balanced. Here's the training you fear!

Raven Writer: You rock! Thank you for your reviews and I'm always flattered.

Vix04: Hope this update was speedy enough for you!

Franlucylucci: I get the impression that the last chapter wasn't your favorite, but I hope this one does better.

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The Deadly One: You're very kind! Thanks so much :)

That's it guys, swear. Thanks so much for reading, and please review! Disclaimer: The Hunger Games in no way belongs to me.

Saturday arrived much too quickly for Azalea. The morning was hot, humid, and foreboding, promising many things and none of them good. She rolled out of bed quietly, trying to avoid any questions from Clove, and grabbed the bag of gear she had packed the night before. For luck, she had included a few of her own knives and one special blade that really belonged to Clove. This knife curved sharply like a miniature scimitar, a type of sword that had been used in the days far before Panem had been dreamed into existence. They had learned about these swords at the Academy as part of their weapons history course, which was the only class Azalea and Clove enjoyed equally.

"Where are you going so bright and early?" Clove asked, causing Azalea to flinch. "It's Saturday, in case you hadn't noticed. We don't have to go to the Academy until three o'clock."

Azalea faltered, torn between trying to lie and telling Clove part of the truth. If she got caught lying, the torture would be much worse in the end, especially since it involved Cato. Deciding go with a half-truth, Azalea sighed as if pained. "I wanted to get some training in because we haven't been working out at the Academy lately. I've got nothing to practice on."

Clove sat up in her bed, flashing a feral grin that meant danger. "Why didn't you say anything? You know I've been dying to throw knives at you for years."

"Clove, being outside the training center never stopped you before." Azalea kept her face calm while panic began to build in her chest. "It won't be anything too exciting."

"Fuck that, I'm coming." Clove shot out of bed and began gathering everything she would need for a morning of torturing her sister. Pausing in her manic tossing of clothes, Clove looked up to ask, "Should I bring brass knuckles?"

"No, that is one thing you should leave at home," Azalea said firmly, touching the place on her back that Clove had struck the last time she had tried out her brass knuckles. "Do you really want to come? You always say how much you hate to spar with me."

"That's because you don't try and I hate beating you in two seconds." Clove bent over to tie one of her shoes, long hair falling over her shoulder in a dark curtain. "If you think I'm missing watching you be motivated for even one minute, you're kidding yourself."

"Am I really that disinterested?" Azalea muttered to herself. First it was Cato telling her she didn't try, and now Clove was taking a crack at her. Who was next, Titus? "If you're coming, you have to promise not to pull a stunt like our last private training session."

"Oh please," Clove said, rolling her eyes. "Just because you don't know how to escape from a garrote doesn't mean I'm not allowed to use one. Now shut up and come on."

Azalea trailed grudgingly after Clove, staring at the ground and hoping dearly that Cato wasn't already waiting for her. It would be hard enough to explain to him why Clove was joining their session, but explaining to them both at the same time would be miserable. Just the idea of it sent her intestines writhing and caused a bit of bile to rise into the back of her throat. When they reached the Academy doors, Azalea crossed her fingers and stepped into the gym right behind Clove. She had closed her eyes, hoping to open them and see that nothing was wrong, but before she got the chance Clove was cussing a blue streak.

"Why the hell does he have to show up everywhere we go? Sometimes I think he follows us," Clove grumbled, giving Cato a nasty look as she walked around the edges of the mats toward the changing rooms. "Look at him stretching. Jesus, it's like he thinks he's a real athlete."

"Clove," Azalea reprimanded tiredly, lifting her eyes to the heavens as if to ask for guidance. When she looked back down, Cato was watching her out of the corner of his eye, obviously wondering what Clove was doing there with her. She shrugged to convey her helplessness and slipped into the changing rooms after her sister.

"Selfish fucking prick. I bet he's going to take up the entire mat with those stupid friends of his," Clove complained as she put on a tight running shirt.

"Friends?" Azalea asked, whirling to face her sister.

"Yeah, Jacob, Natalie, and that other bitch whose name I always ignore." Clove smirked devilishly. "Oops, I meant forget."

"Are they here?" Azalea changed into her shirt and shorts quickly, pulling her hair out of the collar. "I didn't see them."

"They were over by the weight machines. Do I have to worry about you being blind as well as ambitionless?" Clove asked snidely.

"You hush," Azalea bit back, managing to let some of her fear turn into snappishness. "I'm only going to say this once, so you need to listen. Cato offered to help me train so I can beat the girls in my division next term during exams. He's doing me a favor and I expect you to be nothing but nice to him."

Clove remained expressionless for a few seconds, staring her sister blankly in the eye. "You're up at quarter to eight, ready to train, armed with knives so you can meet Cato. Really? And you let me drag myself here thinking it was going to be you and me."

Azalea sighed, pressing lightly against her temples to ward off the first headache she had ever gotten before noon. "I'm sorry, Clove, but I didn't think you were going to insist on coming with me. He and I agreed a few days ago that we would meet this morning and I was going to leave before you woke up."

"So you're sneaking around with him," Clove said darkly, eyebrows furrowing. "That's a great way to make be believe he's a good guy. Way to go."

Throwing up her hands, Azalea began braiding her hair tightly to her head. "You know what? Fine. If you want to play this Poor Clove game, I'm going to go out there. I'm freaked out enough as it is, especially now that we have an audience. You can either come out and train with us or leave."

Clove softened slightly, folding her arms and slouching against a locker. "Don't let those dicks out there psych you out. You're better than they are." She smirked lightly. "If they do anything mean I can always stab them for you."

"Thanks, Clove. That means a lot." Azalea reached out to hug her sister, only to receive an elbow to the gut. "So much for that."

"Let's go," Clove ordered, marching through the doors with her pony tail swinging. All Azalea could do was follow her and hope nothing bad was going to happen.

As she strode over to Cato, Clove looked more like a Peacekeeper than a trainee. Her posture was rigid and her face was set stonily, betraying nothing of what she was going to say. Azalea held back and readjusted her shoes, wanting to avoid a scene if at all possible. Cato could take care of himself.

"I have two rules," Clove said loudly. "One: you don't hurt my sister. Two: I get to punch the hell out of you if I don't like something you've done. Do we agree on those terms?"

Cato chuckled and looked down at the small, lithe girl in front of him. "And what do I get to do if I don't like what you do?"

"Whine somewhere else," Clove replied.

"Then I have no choice but to accept," Cato said, the tone of his voice dipping into condescending territory. "If you're good, I'll give you a lollipop."

Azalea began to say something in warning, but it came too late. Clove let out a scream of outrage and landed a solid jab to his throat before anyone could make a move. Cato started to gasp, but it soon turned into a wheezing laugh that meant he had gotten the desired reaction from her.

"Jesus Clove," Azalea sighed. "Already?"

"He agreed to the terms, right? And I didn't like what he said." Clove shrugged, moving off toward the treadmill for a warm-up. She climbed on and started doing a walking lap without once looking back or showing any sort of remorse.

"Did you have to bring the attack dog?" Cato asked genially, rubbing at his throat with a grin on his face. "Her bark is definitely not worse than her bite."

"I've warned you before about provoking her," Azalea replied without a bit of sympathy. "You're the one who decided teasing her was a good idea."

"What's she doing here?" Cato pulled his arm across his chest in a stretch and raised his eyebrows. "I didn't get the impression the two of you were training buddies."

"Neither were you and I before today," Azalea pointed out. "And I could ask the same thing about your friends. Did they show up on their own?"

"Yeah, actually. They were already here this morning when I came in." Cato gave a quick wave as Jacob caught them staring. "I don't think they're too happy you're here, though."

Azalea frowned, taken aback. "Why? It's not like I'm using their machines."

Cato sighed. "Natalie has been getting pretty pissed at me for hanging out with you so much. She thinks you're distracting me or something. And Jacob does pretty much whatever Natalie says because she can be a bitch. That leaves Laine, who is one of the biggest sheep I've ever known."

Azalea laughed incredulously. "So I'm supposed to be a bad influence on you? That's rich, considering you keep me up for hours and get me to say more curse words in one sentence than I've said my whole life."

"That isn't my fault," Cato disagreed, though his smirk belied his seriousness. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't really care what they think and neither should you."

"Easier said than done," Azalea muttered darkly. "So what are we going to do first?"

"Cardio." Cato grinned at her distasteful expression. "We talked a while ago about your lack of endurance. If you're going to ace all those exams, you need to be in better shape."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were calling me fat." Azalea glared at him with mock suspicion, stretching her legs in a lunge as they made their way over to the elliptical machines set up in the corner of the vast gym. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"That's the plan." Cato set her up on the machine and made sure she was comfortable with the settings before moving on to a treadmill. He started at a light jog, looking at Azalea over his shoulder to check that she was actually working. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue, putting her hands over the heart monitoring sensors before starting to move her feet.

As Cato began increasing the speed of his treadmill, Jacob climbed onto the machine next to his. They ran in silence for a few moments, aware of each other but not wanting to have the first word. Finally, Jacob cleared his throat. "What's with the girl?"

"Which girl?" Cato replied, ramping up the speed again.

"Fuck you, man! The one dying on the elliptical behind you," Jacob exclaimed quietly. "The one you've been hanging out with for a while instead of me and Nat."

"I never hang out with Nat." Cato wiped at his brow even though it was dry. "Did she say that we did?"

"That isn't my point." Jacob jumped and placed his feet on the stationary sides of the treadmill so he could speak more easily. "I'm not saying this because Nat told me to, okay? This is because I've trained with you on and off for the past four years and I know how close you are to being ready for the Games. Ever since you started hanging out with her, I've noticed your focus slipping. How many times have you been smacked around by Thaddeus in the past few months? Way more than you ever were before her, that's for sure. I know how much you want to be a Victor and I won't let you mess that up for some second-rate trainee you've only just noticed this year."

Cato gritted his teeth and kept running to drown anger that started in his chest and threatened to spill out his mouth. He and Jacob had been friends for a long time and he didn't want to throw that away. "Thanks for your concern, man, but I don't need it."

"Sure," Jacob snorted, stepping onto the belt again and faltering for just a moment before regaining his stride. "Say goodbye to that house in Victors' Village."

"Keep talking, Jake," Cato muttered, shaking his head. "Make me punch you."

"You wouldn't be able to get close now that you've gone soft," Jacob teased. "Spend some more time in the gym, youngblood, and then you can come after me."

"Whatever."

When Cato had decided Azalea had had enough for one day, he grabbed her off the elliptical and went through a short series of weight training. She laughed at the idea of ever being able to lift at the level he did, but she attacked the tasks set for her with a decent amount of amiability. Cato kept one eye on her and the other on Jacob, Natalie, and Laine. They were going through their own workouts, which involved extreme sets of abdominal exercises and a hundred pushups, but he didn't trust them to stay silent.

Clove wandered over as Azalea was doing a set of fifteen on the leg press. "You've got too much weight on there, dumbass."

"How motivating," Azalea grumbled, swatting Clove's hand away as she tried to adjust the amount of weight attached to the pulleys. "I've got this under control, thanks."

"Your legs are shaking," Clove continued, pointing to Azalea's trembling quads. "It would be better to use less weight and do more reps. That's how you tone muscle instead of gain it."

"Maybe I want to gain muscle," Azalea replied testily. "Cato, do I want to gain muscle?"

Cato looked over from where he was doing pull-ups at the bar. "I don't know. Do you?"

"You're a shitty trainer," Clove snapped. "Aren't you supposed to be helping her?"

"She knows how to use weights, demon child. We all do that during training." Cato dropped from the bar and strode over. "I figured she knew how much weight she usually used."

"I'm still here." Azalea stuck up her hand like she was in class. "Can I speak for myself? I went up five pounds because it wasn't challenging anymore, okay? This whole having two trainers thing is freaking me out. I can handle this part on my own."

Cato and Clove looked at her for a moment before turning glares on each other. Without another word, they turned away and went in opposite directions, Clove to the barbells and Cato back to the pull-up bar. Azalea sighed and continued her leg presses, taking care to go slowly and make sure every muscle worked in the correct way. The Academy instructors had taught them the proper function of each machine and how the muscles were supposed to feel when they were being exercised in the right way. That wasn't want she needed help with; she wanted to have a sparring partner who would challenge her.

After sessions on two more machines, Cato decided that they should go ahead and move to the mats. Clove was right behind them and insisted that she be included in whatever exercises they did. Jacob, Natalie, and Laine took up residence on an adjacent mat. Jacob wanted to watch Cato's interaction with Azalea, and Natalie wanted to intimidate them as much as possible. Cato would have tried to put a stop to it, but it would have been a futile effort and Azalea needed to get used to people watching her.

"Okay," Cato said slowly, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. He seemed to be at a bit of a loss.

"Oh I can't wait to see this," Clove muttered quietly, nudging Azalea in the ribs. Azalea ignored her, trying to stop herself from looking over at Natalie. The girl was pretending to spar with Jacob, but all Azalea saw her do was stare a hole in Cato.

"Let's try some boxing." Cato jogged over to one of the many racks of equipment that lined the room and grabbed a couple pairs of boxing gloves and two pads. Clove's eyes lit up as he brought them over and handed the gloves to her and Azalea. A sense of discomfort wormed its way into Azalea's mind as she watched her sister pull on the gloves and tighten them expertly.

"I'll go first," Clove announced, hopping forward and doing a bit of fancy footwork.

"This whole thing isn't one big chance for you to beat me up," Cato warned, glancing at Azalea over Clove's head. "Your sister and I are supposed to be working out."

"You two can make out later. Now put up your hands or I'll break that pretty face of yours." Clove ignored the slight twitch in Cato's right eye, but Azalea felt sick because of the offhand comment. There was no way Clove could know about Cato's father and hadn't meant any harm. However, Azalea knew it must have rubbed Cato the wrong way.

Cato put up his hands grudgingly, glad he didn't have any gloves of his own and was unable to smack Clove. She came at him fast and hard, ducking at his fake swings and firing punches into his pads without hesitation. He started moving his hands and having her hit at different parts of his body. It didn't feel like very long, but when they finally stopped he noticed it had been about ten minutes. Azalea was staring at both of them with wide eyes, looking a little shocked and unsure of herself.

"I don't think I can do that," Azalea said, shaking her head.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Cato cajoled, taking off the pads to wipe some sweat from his forehead. "I promise I won't give you a concussion."

"Just think of all the damage you could do," Clove offered, shrugging.

"I'll try." Azalea put on her gloves and pulled the laces tight as best she could, using her teeth on the second glove. She approached Cato slowly, hoping the session wouldn't escalate to the level of the last fiasco. "I'm going to feel silly."

"Girls who box are hot," Cato said, winking. Azalea let out a laugh before sobering and throwing a timid punch. Cato sighed and put his hands down before she could try again. The other trainees in the room snickered at her feeble attempt. "That's not even worth the price of admission. Think you can actually hit me this time, or are you going to give me another high five?"

Azalea wrinkled her nose and guarded her face. She waited until he put the pads back up before snapping her arm out in a jab similar to what she saw Clove do. The thwacking sound the leather gloves made as they connected with the pads was oddly satisfying. Azalea threw a couple more, happy with herself, before really falling into a rhythm.

"Nice," Cato murmured in encouragement, moving with her as she started shifting her feet. He moved the pads a little, forcing her to react, and began throwing fake swings above her head and to the side. She reacted well, dodging effortlessly until he surprised her by faking a jab to her head and moving with his other hand to her stomach. Her guard dropped and the blow struck her in the gut, causing her to tense and huff out a lungful of air.

Cato grimaced apologetically and took his left hand from the pad so he could rub her back while she recovered. She waved him away, insisting that she was fine and wanted to continue, but he wanted to wait a few moments. "Just breathe for a minute."

"I'm breathing now," Azalea said indignantly. "How often do the instructors let us take breaks? Never. So make me suck it up."

Cato chuckled. "Pull it together!"

"Okay!" She smiled and blew a piece of hair out of her face. "Let's go again."

Cato finally let them stop around eleven o'clock after realizing how hungry he was. He offered to put up the equipment they had used while Azalea and Clove hit the showers. They agreed wholeheartedly and ran off to the locker room, elbowing each other as they tried to squeeze through the doorway. Neither of them noticed Natalie slip in behind them.

Azalea let the warm water of the shower pummel her sore shoulders and sighed. The training session had been demanding and sometimes frustrating, but she felt better than she had in a long time. She was excited to finally have something tangible to work towards, since becoming a tribute hadn't been her motivation for regular Academy exercises. If she could ace her exams and move up a few spots in the ranking, she would feel more secure in herself.

After she had toweled off and changed back into her regular clothes, Azalea turned to look for Clove. Instead, Natalie stood in front of her with her arms crossed. "Have a good time?"

"Great," Azalea said, eyeing the girl suspiciously. Not a hair was out of place on Natalie's head and her clothes were perfectly fit to her body. Everything about her screamed that she was the daughter of a Victor, from the expensive non-Academy gear to the white teeth that gleamed each time she smiled.

"You know, I thought Cato would get tired of you eventually," Natalie said lightly. "He's dated girls before, but they don't last long."

"We aren't dating." Azalea folded her arms across her chest, willing her voice to stay steady. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, not really." Natalie's lips twisted darkly. "I suppose I should be grateful to you for distracting Cato. He'll still be the male tribute with me, of course, but he'll be so much easier to beat. All I'll have to do is mention you in the arena and it will be over, just like that. Then I get to come back and see your devastated face."

Azalea fumed, biting her lip in frustration. "If you think you can beat Cato in the Games, you're delusional. Good luck picking up the pieces of your shattered spine when he's done with you." Azalea pushed past Natalie with a disgusted expression, asking herself why she had ever felt intimidated by that petty, scared girl. If she was that jealous of Cato's attention, it would certainly hurt her in the Games.

Azalea emerged into the gym to find Cato talking with Jacob and Laine, both of whom looked up at her when she entered the room. She waved sarcastically, not in the mood for inter-trainee politics, and strode quickly to the main doors. Clove was at her side almost immediately, tossing one of her knives into the air over and over.

"Natalie cornered me in the locker room," Azalea said quietly as they stepped outside. "She thinks Cato and I are dating."

"No, she would like to think she and Cato are dating," Clove contradicted, brandishing the knife to make her point. "Haven't you noticed her freaking out whenever he sits with you?"

"You've seen him sit with me?" Azalea asked, shocked. "Wait, never mind. No, I haven't seen her. What does that matter, anyway?"

"She just thinks you're competition." Clove shrugged and hoisted her bag of gear onto her shoulder. "I'm going back home to get lunch. Are you going to come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a few minutes. Do you mind if Cato joins us? Dad won't be back until six." Azalea chewed on the inside of her cheek and waited for the explosion.

"I guess so," Clove agreed, not even blinking. "See you later."

Azalea stared after her sister in complete disbelief, unsure what had gotten into her. Just a few days ago Clove had been ready to slaughter Cato for even thinking about coming into their house. There had to be some sort of trick up her sleeve.

When Cato finally came outside, Azalea ran the idea of lunch by him. He agreed hesitantly, obviously still worried about Clove even though their training session had gone fairly well. Considering all that could have gone wrong, Clove had managed to mind her manners and only punch Cato a total of five times outside of sparring. Azalea had approved of two of the punches because Cato had been openly goading her sister.

"Should I protect my face when we go inside?" Cato asked as they walked up the steps to Azalea's house. "Will there be flying knives?"

"You never know with Clove," Azalea replied. "We better go inside so she doesn't eat without us. There might not be any food left."

They went inside, surprised to find that Clove had already made three sandwiches and was just sitting down at the table. She refused to acknowledge them and arranged her napkin in her lap daintily. Cato snorted at the scene in front of him, never having imagined Clove to have any table manners worth speaking of, much less proper etiquette. Azalea forced him to stop laughing and frowned disapprovingly.

"Haven't you been punched enough for one day?" She shook her head and sat down at the table next to her sister. "Thanks for making lunch, Clove."

"Couldn't let you do it, could I?" Clove grimaced around a bite of sandwich. "Every time you make sandwiches I end up having to clean the entire kitchen."

"I'm not that messy," Azalea exclaimed, refusing to be shown in a bad light. "Who does the cooking every night, huh?"

Clove refused to answer, continuing to eat her sandwich without looking over at Cato, who was now sitting across from her awkwardly. He finally started to eat when Clove was nearly done, taking smaller bites that he normally would have so he appeared neater.

"Would you relax?" Clove exploded, glaring at Cato after five minutes of him watching his plate intently. "Jesus, we're not that scary!"

"You are," Azalea grumbled, sipping at her water to avoid further commentary.

"Screaming is a bad way of conveying how not scary you are," Cato pointed out, smirking. "How hard was it to hold that hissy fit in?"

Clove gave a little moan of frustration and kicked Cato beneath the table. He winced, staring after her as she dumped her plate into the sink and stormed off to her room. Azalea stayed quiet and drank more water.

"She didn't kill me today. That's an improvement." Cato finished his sandwich and offered to take Azalea's plate to the sink. She complied, letting him take the plate from the table. When he started to wash them, however, she jumped up and put a hand on his arm.

"I'll do those, don't worry." She took the plates from his hands and set them in the sink. "I think you finally won Clove over today."

"That was definitely my goal," Cato said sarcastically. "At least she isn't dragging you off to have secret conversations about me being the Antichrist."

"She never said that," Azalea laughed, hitting Cato on the arm playfully. "She just implied that you're a horrible person."

"Same thing." Cato leaned against the counter and leaned his head back to stretch his neck. "I guess it's a good thing she was there today, though. Was it easier on you?"

"It certainly kept you in line." Azalea smiled to soften the comment. "I like having Clove around. She's not so bad when you get to know her. We fight a lot, but we're actually pretty similar."

Cato scoffed. "I think she would be a better match as my sister than yours. She's seriously focused on being a tribute."

Azalea turned to face him with an inquiring expression. "Why do you feel the need to be a tribute? Besides thinking that's your only job option. After everything your dad does, you would think fighting would be the last thing you want to do."

"It's what I know best," Cato replied. "Despite all his flaws, my dad was a pretty decent candidate for tribute in his day. He taught me from a young age how to fight and what it meant to serve your District as a tribute. I've had all that stuff drilled into me since I was a kid."

"Has he always, you know, hit you?" she asked quietly, not wanting Clove to hear.

"No, not like this. He's gotten worse with the drinking since Marcus left, but I think it started about a year after that." Cato puffed up his cheeks and let the air out slowly. "It wasn't that bad, but now he's doing it more often."

"I'm sorry, Cato." Azalea sighed, at a loss for what to say next. She could tell he was getting tired of talking about his family situation. "Thanks for this morning. It was actually sort of fun."

"No problem," Cato replied. "You did a decent job."

"Decent!" Azalea cried, pushing him playfully. "How's that for encouragement?"

Cato laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders genially. "You'll get better. We have a whole year before you need to be in top shape. You have a good foundation because you've been at the Academy for four years. You just need to learn how to intensify your workouts and keep the level of commitment consistent."

"Look at you, trying to be an instructor." Azalea shook her head. "Next thing I know you'll say we can't talk during the broadcast of the Games."

"Oh, that's definitely against the rules." Cato leaned in close, shaking a finger in her face. "You're a troublemaker, I can tell."

Azalea faltered for a response, noticing how blue his eyes looked from their new vantage point. It was a little difficult to draw breath, but she decided that had to be leftovers from the training that morning.

"You have no idea."

Probably not where you want it to end, but leaving me reviews will get you closer to the next chapter! Thanks so much for reading :)