Chapter Fourteen.
Training Day Three.
Saira Carinne, 18 years old;
District One Female.
Whenever Henry smiled, Saira smiled.
Whenever he laughed, she laughed.
And whenever he wanted to talk with her, she talked to him.
They only had hours to go before the end of training, but Saira felt like the past three days had gone much better than they could have. Much better than she'd hoped. Although her fellow allies were not the people she thought they'd be, a part of her had managed to swallow down whatever restraint she had and attach herself to each in turn.
Vance didn't mind her, externally at least. Rayah nodded whenever she was nearby. Rhaella and Saira were like classic best friends, giggling, chatting and bitching. Tristian was Tristian, he acknowledged her, he spoke fondly of his fellow allies, and Saira respected that of him. And then there was Henry.
Henry Eris.
Saira knew his type – knew his type better than anyone. That's why she felt drawn to him in the same way he must have felt drawn to her. Both of them were on the same wavelength in the sense of how useful their allies were, how useful each other was, and how useful as individuals they could be.
They were currently standing side by side, holding a bow each with an arrow notched in the string. Neither of them was a good shot, but it was still important amongst all these personality games to get some real weapon training in.
Especially because of the future Saira predicted- the turn her alliance would take early on. She'd made sure she had good ties with everyone, and made sure Henry's devotion was blossoming into unquestionable loyalty. The group was at a tense stage without a leader, but that made it even better, because they were at a stalemate.
No one but Rayah and Henry really disliked each other, but there was animosity in the air anyway because everyone was doubting the loyalty of one another.
Saira played on that because she could.
She'd secured loyalty with everyone to different degrees depending on the person, and now, she was comfortable to be herself more than anything.
Maybe it seemed fake. But it wasn't. She genuinely did like being around other people – they were interesting, like she hoped she was interesting back.
People were curious.
They made life exciting.
"First one to go from the Pack?" Henry immediately jumped into a rather random question. For a moment, Saira stood still, raising an eyebrow. But then he smirked a smirk she'd gotten used to and returned it, giggling lightly.
"I don't doubt any of them-"
"-But when it comes to it? Come on Saira. Don't be that girl. Who's gonna kick the bucket first?"
"Kick the bucket?" Saira laughed again. Henry did the same thing. In a way, he repulsed Saira, everything he stood for was twisted in the wrong direction. Both wanted to win, but both wanted to win by doing the same thing in completely different ways.
Still, she found him endearing in a sense. Like she found the whole room endearing. Everyone had their quirks, their attitudes and their distinctive voices to lend to this year's Games. Saira was making her mark in the shadows, really.
Because they didn't see her for her. They saw Saira as the girl they wanted to see. And that was good, because the real her wanted to smile and laugh, but the real her wanted nothing more than to just get to the killing so she could win and move on with her life.
That wasn't really what her fellow allies wanted though.
Saira came off like she had no ulterior motives because that's the way she wanted to come across. It was working, especially with Henry.
The younger boy shrugged his shoulders, chuckling as he released the arrow. It hit a few rings away from the centre. He frowned, but Saira tapped him on the shoulder, shaking her head.
"Don't be upset. That was good."
"If it was a moving target they wouldn't be dead."
Saira laughed again, because laughing seemed to work on him. "When it counts, you'll make your mark. Don't doubt yourself."
"Yeah you're right."
"I try," she said, shooting her own arrow. It hit a little closer to the centre, which Saira was pleased with, and Henry clapped accordingly. Although he might have doubted himself, Saira could tell he didn't want her to dislike him, so his enthusiasm bordered on… insanity.
But he was insane anyway. That was another thing she could tell.
Rhaella didn't want Tristian in the way she acted like she did, and he just wanted things to go according to a strict plan that would never work. Rayah tried to be a person she wasn't. Vance was holding in secrets that weren't secrets – masking things that were plain to everyone. And then Henry was this, a little bundle of giggles because he actually couldn't wait to kill.
Saira had pinpointed each characteristic that summed up her allies.
It was the best way of moving forward.
Her way of winning.
"So yeah, answer my question. First person to die?"
"You're a chipper guy aren't you? Don't you like our allies?"
Both of them laughed. Henry made a face, shrugging his shoulders at that, like he was doubting them really. Of course he would. No one else mattered in the long run to him. Except Saira, now. Except the only person he'd fight for other than himself.
She felt guilty for that.
But it was useful.
"I think each of them are… different. I hate who some of them are trying to be, or really are if I have to be honest. Vance tries too hard. Tristian tries too little. Rhaella is at least honest with herself. And Rayah is as fake as that makeup on her face."
"You really don't like her do you?"
"What's to like?" Henry's voice took on more of a whining tone. Saira braced herself for a spiel about every character flaw the girl from Two had, but instead of pointing out the things she knew anyway, Henry laughed and readied another arrow.
"I'll go first. In my honest opinion, the first person to fall will be Vance."
Really? She felt a twinge of horror at the thought of him dying. Then when she thought about that, thought about how absurd it was to even feel that way, she shook the feeling off. Vance had done nothing but smile and act charming, when he probably felt nothing too sincere towards her.
Why should she care about him dying?
Because, really, I don't want anyone to die. I don't. They would. And Saira was prepared to kill, see death, and do what had to be done. Clearly, she was already within the alliance and what she'd twisted to her advantage.
But nothing made it easier.
Hearing him say Vance, it hurt like she expected. And hurt led to doubt. And doubt led to loss.
She refused to let it swallow her whole.
"I agree."
Saira said it to end the conversation. She didn't want to talk about that just yet. She'd thought about it, but thoughts seemed to take on a whole new meaning when spoken out loud. Maybe that was why she bordered on pretend with other people, because what she really felt would crumble her strength if she ever spoke her opinions.
She did like her allies, honestly she did. And she disliked them too. But she kept that at bay to be a good, friendly person to them. It was easier than the truth because the truth was painful.
And in the Hunger Games, pain led to death.
Saira refused to die.
She looked at Henry, saw what she was doing to him, what he was doing for her, and tried to accept it. Enjoy it.
Or at least, put up with it.
This was the Saira she really was.
A Saira that struggled, but a Saira that fought anyway.
It was the Saira she needed. The girl that would win.
Saira, the Victor.
Sherina Harney, 16 years old;
District Seven Female.
When Sherina met Therese, there'd been something there. Something that clicked.
When Sherina and Therese met Arial, the same thing happened, something that enticed Sherina to accept the alliance invitation.
Now, the girl from Six was throwing knives next to the trio, smiling timidly and chatting with them, shy, but not silent, and Sherina couldn't make up her mind. She didn't want to be cruel and judge based on nothing more than a few words, gentle stares, and a cute smile.
But there was something – something Therese had disliked about Arial, and tensed up when near Holly Branwell. But Arial being Arial, saw nothing but the girl before her, and Sherina would not be the kind of person to cast someone away based on nothing more than… intuition.
Besides, if things turn out bad we can always… kill her. Sherina laughed the thought away, walking closer to Holly's side, pulling out her own knife and aiming for the target.
She was trying, really trying. Therese and Sherina had practiced since they'd met on day one with all sorts of weapons, and ever since their bubbly co-leader Arial joined, they hadn't stopped. Sherina admired her spirit.
Mainly because Sherina herself sometimes didn't really feel all that connected with her allies. Not that she didn't like them, and not that she didn't want them to like her back, but mainly because she couldn't help but feel putting distance between them was better. Smarter.
She looked once over at Therese, offering her the same sort of smile the two had given one another since meeting, and felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach. She offered the same gesture back but couldn't help but feel their relationship was more one-sided. Therese might sacrifice a lot for Sherina, but would she do the same?
She knew the answer, but refused to admit it.
Therese was a friend. But how much of a friend, she had no idea. And Arial… well Arial was everything Sherina tried to be without having to actually try.
It made her jealous.
It made her guilty.
It made her sad.
But Holly, she was a new mystery. So as much as she doubted this new arrival, she was more curious than anything to actually get to know the girl.
"Have you packed much training in over the three days?"
"I've done some things, here and there," Holly had a gentle sort of voice, the kind of tone that chimed through the air and made Sherina smile. She seemed kind. Almost frail. Weak. Alarms were going off inside her head that weak would not do them any justice.
She ignored that.
"Mainly I've been searching for some allies. It's day three now and I've wanted to really, well, you know, get to know the competition."
"Competition." Sherina said the word matter-of-factly. Although it unnerved her, such a sweet girl seeing other sweet girls – Therese and Arial, maybe not her – as the competition. Sherina knew they were all obstacles, all part of the contest, but somehow she couldn't see any of them really proving much of a threat.
That was another thing that scared her.
If they could be useful or not. If they really were the right allies for her, or if, once again she'd made a mistake with the choices she'd made. But she stuck to it – trying to be reliable for once. Trying to stick to the promises she'd made.
If she was going to die, she wanted to die feeling satisfied she hadn't spent the last few days of her life dwelling on things that couldn't be fixed. Being the person she hated to be.
Sherina threw the knife at the same time as Holly. Both of them missed the targets, but neither seemed to care. Or at least Sherina smothered her anger under another smile, to which Holly mirrored eagerly, the two turning to face Arial and Therese.
"It's a bit risky don't you think? Having such a big alliance." Therese tried to appear friendly to Holly, but really when her cheeks twitched into a smile, a spasm ran across her face and she stepped backwards, going bright red.
Therese cared a lot. But that's why she must have been hesitant. Because she cared about Sherina and Arial, didn't want anything bad to happen to them, so she acted like this.
"Three, four, who cares?" Arial turned to face Holly. "Got anything to bring to the crew?"
"The crew?" Sherina laughed. Arial nodded eagerly, her hair bouncing with her frantic movements. If Sherina thought she acted a little over the top sometimes, she obviously thought that before meeting a girl like Arial.
She sort of admired her spirit. And the fact that earlier, when Lucian had said something when they sat near to him, she'd almost exploded in his face. She had fire just as much as kindness.
Maybe they would get far, after all.
Maybe.
"Well, Holly? Sell yourself."
Sherina turned to the poor girl, eyes wide, lip trembling. "I-I," she stammered, fingers nervously tapping away together.
"What Arial means to say is, what can you bring to our alliance. It doesn't have to be anything major. I can't do anything with a weapon. Therese is better at survival stations. And, well, Arial…"
"…brings the kapow," Arial said it herself, giggling.
Holly seemed to be easing herself into the conversation at least. And with a tentative step forwards, she pat down a crease in her training top and gestured to the knives.
"I can't throw. I'm lousy with a sword. I can't even tell a berry you can eat from a berry that will burn your stomach. But I think what I can bring is what I see in you three, the idea of companionship. Loyalty. Everything I think builds an alliance up to be greater than they really are."
Arial, Therese and Sherina stared at her as she spoke. The other two hooked, Sherina feeling more and more guilty as she spoke. She'd doubted a girl like this, a girl who spoke of qualities Sherina hungered for herself, but never seemed to find in her life because she always overthought every situation she was ever in.
If a person was good, if a person was bad. If she was good, if she was bad.
It never ended.
"I mean, we're not from any of the Career districts, so we're never going to have complete Capitol favour. We need to stand out, and I think an alliance of four girls, four girls from Districts that never make their mark, can do that. Because we can do it together."
That was really all Arial needed to hear.
Maybe all Therese needed to hear.
And definitely what Sherina needed to hear.
It was a boost, an encouragement, a push in the right direction when Sherina doubted if they really could do anything in the Arena. Maybe Holly was right, maybe together, just because they were weak, they stood a chance because they had just that... they had the girls around them.
They had support.
And that was really all Sherina wanted to give, as hard as it had always been.
She wanted to help people, like they helped her.
"You're in. Go team!"
Sherina rolled her eyes, grinning as all girls embraced. "You really need to stop saying that."
"Bite me."
Again, they laughed.
But really, this felt right, it felt like Sherina had the chance she wanted. The chance she needed.
A chance to prove a point to herself, and others around her. That's all she craved. To be herself without having to try so hard.
This was where it started.
Where things got better.
Clarette Aamira, 16 years old;
District Ten Female.
Why does he have to be so tall…? Clarette grumbled to herself. Or better yet, why am I so damn tiny?
It was stupid of her to put so much stock in her height, and the height of the boy who was approaching her, but still, people got it wrong all the time. Size does matter.
In more ways than one.
When he reached her, his smile unnerved Clarette. Not that she didn't see the benefit of perhaps having an older, stronger ally – if that's what he wanted, of course – but because people hid things with their sugary sweet smiles.
Maybe that was why Clarette tried not to smile much. Or if she did, her smiles did in fact hide things. Or maybe I shouldn't base other people on my own attitude. Still, Clarette stood with one hand on her hip, cold-faced, staring at him when he extended a hand.
"You made quite the impression back in the Chariots." He brushed the back of his head with the hand she'd rejected, grinning awkwardly.
Clarette stifled a laugh and shrugged. "People have told me that."
"Why'd you do it? Do you like to piss off the people in control of your life?"
"I'm in control of my life." Clarette said it stubbornly, even though it was only half true. Sure, if it came down to a fight, if she gave it her all, then she'd be exacting control over the situation. But that didn't matter in the long run.
Mainly it was down to luck.
Or impressions.
She laughed dryly when the boy continued to just stare at her. "I was told to stand out. What more could I have done?"
"Smile?"
Clarette forced the grin into her face, like the tributes she'd seen when recapping the event. The tributes, like the young man in front of her, who were willing to disregard dignity for their safety. Clarette silently hated herself for being so stubborn, so set in her ways, but that was just her.
She wouldn't back down just because someone told her what the smartest thing was to do. Smart or not, if it wasn't who she was, then she refused to do it.
If it got her killed, then… so be it.
Do I really want to die, though? Casimar, the boy from Nine laughed back. No I don't. But she didn't want to be like him – or any of the others.
They were falling for something she'd fought against all her life.
She'd be damned if the Capitol could get her to change.
"Did you want something?"
"Are you in a rush?"
Clarette looked at her wrist, void of a watch, and tapped it, smirking. "I've got an appointment with a sword so make it quick."
"Think I can tag-a-long?"
She gave him a once over with her eyes, up and down. Sure he looked tough, and sure with it being the last day of training, she was pretty much one of the only tributes yet to secure an alliance. It was her, Casimar, the boy from Three and the annoying shit from Six.
Just them four, and now she had Casimar in front of her. Part of Clarette felt like telling him to scram, that she didn't need someone. Part of her nearly did. But that part wouldn't control her just yet, because deep down Clarette did need somebody.
In Ten she'd fought so much to be away from her controlling family that she surrounded herself with as many people as she could – people she couldn't usually stand.
Casimar, though, felt different. Maybe his smiles were real. Maybe they weren't like hers. Maybe they would work out.
"If you're looking for a nice girl be with your District partner. She's all lips and eyelashes. Fluttering them for that dull brick she's with."
"Don't be rude about Noelani," Casimar said, frowning. Clarette stepped back, but genuinely started to laugh. It was good to see a bit of fire, he wasn't a pushover at least, he had some fight which would do the pair a whole world of good come the Arena.
"So why aren't you with Little Miss Nice Girl?"
"Because…" he bit his lip, mumbling something to the ground.
"My face is up here, not down there." She clicked her fingers. He looked up again, sighing, then glanced towards the girl in question, with the plain-faced boy from Twelve.
"If I'm going to get anywhere in the Games I need someone who can at least… fight."
Clarette appreciated the indirect compliment, even if her face didn't quite match up to the way she felt. She only raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Maybe she wasn't the nice girl he had in a District partner, but that's what she needed him to know if this was going to work.
She was Clarette and Clarette acted the way she'd always done, whether someone enjoyed it or not, her life was her own and that was that.
"You're a midget but you look like you have bite."
She went red, stepping up to him, peering into his eyes with a curled lip. "Midget huh?" He tapped her head, grinning. It took all her self-control to keep her fist to herself, motionless by her hip as he started to laugh, moving backwards an inch or so.
"I need an ally that will get me places in the Games. As brilliant as Noelani is, as much as we get along, I can't be with her in there. I don't want to see her get hurt."
"But you're perfectly fine seeing little ol' me in pain?"
"That's the thing. You seem like you'd be better at avoiding pain. That's what I need. Someone who has a chance."
Do I really have a chance…? Clarette started to blush, cursing herself silently for acting so… vulnerable. He saw through her, she could tell. He saw the way she really felt, and Clarette couldn't tell whether or not she enjoyed that. People had always either stepped all over her, or went with her because the alternative was a slap to the face.
Or a bottle to the back of the head.
That was just her life. And it was hard to get out of that shell, because it'd been who she was for sixteen years. Maybe with Casimar she could adapt – not change, though, never change – for the better. Win as herself, without losing what she valued more than anything.
"If you're going to get all sappy you can fuck off."
He raised his hands. "I promise I'll keep a distance. But do we have a deal?"
"Allies. Not friends. You said it yourself, you aren't with Noelani because she's the sort of girl who'll form that kind of connection and then get hurt. I can't be dealing with that shit. Not that sort of commitment," she realised she was shaking, peering to the ground, she tried to hide the fact her cold shell was cracking, "allies, not friends."
"Allies," he extended his hand again, this time Clarette shaking it back, "not friends."
"Then we have a deal."
I have an ally. Casimar from Nine.
Clarette from Ten.
Would it work? She hoped so. And if it didn't, then it wasn't meant to be. She didn't want someone because she wanted to connect before the inevitable happened, she wanted an ally because it was logical, smart. It was beneficial.
Or, at least that's what she told herself.
If that was in fact what she really felt, even she didn't know.
But it was better this way. Better to deny the truth.
Better to hold back, because giving everything led to pain. And Clarette refused to be hurt. She refused to back down, no matter the consequences.
No matter the price.
Confirmed alliances/loners are on the blog, but just to clarify, here they are as well:
The Careers
Arial + Holly + Sherina + Therese
Chip + Ramon + Tymas + Lazaro
Adley + Lexine
Eliasi + Jasper
Casimar + Clarette
Noelani + Chase
Lucian
Blaine
So, the bae felicitea drew something for this story and it's on my profile. I LOVE IT SO YOU HAVE TO CHECK IT OUT I'M STILL SO EXCITED SOMEONE DID SOMETHING LIKE THAT FOR ME AW. Ok yeah, enjoy looking at perfection.
But yes this chapter marks the end of training. Two more chapters where we deal with the remaining tributes, and then some other stuff, then the Games! Woop!
Until then!
Oh, and if I reach the 200 review mark with this chapter, a massive thanks to everyone! And if not, still, thanks for all your support.