As I step outside the bunker of District Thirteen, I'm actually surprised to find that the air smells about the same as it did before. Somehow I guess I was expecting that everything was going to feel different, wonderful now that the war is over. I'm still happy, of course. The war being over is a substantial improvement over the alternative, but the overall situation doesn't really feel that different. The leadership that controlled District Thirteen, the ones who I basically betrayed, now control all of Panem, with a few minor adjustments. A war hero here, a qualified specialist there to augment weaknesses in District Thirteen's government. Most of them I've never heard of except for Kilo. He was valuable enough that they were willing to let him live, provided he pretend like my big speech was part of an elaborate plan so secret not even local security was allowed to know about it. He lets me know about all this as he walks me out to the train.

"And remember, Peeta," Kilo says, bug-eyed and sweating in insistence on this point, "whatever you do, don't say you were acting on your own."

I nod wearily. How the war was won wasn't really so important to me as the fact that it was won at all. I certainly owe Kilo this much. I still feel bad about using him the way I did. I can sense a fear from him when he talks about District Thirteen that just wasn't there before. Of course, in the same breath he jabbers on about all the great ideas he has that will be much easier to implement with the help of the engineers in District Three. Well, their eager help, anyway. They weren't quite as motivated when the Capitol just murdered the ones who didn't cooperate.

My plans, for the moment, are more direct. Kilo is leading me to the train station- trains no longer need escorts now that the war is over, and they traffic freely. Now that I have the chance, I'd like to see District Twelve again. Kilo tells me that a concerted effort is underway to rebuild the district. Only a hundred people or so have decided to move back and assist, but I want to see what progress they've made, if only because this population contains most of the people I know. When I arrive Kilo smiles and hurriedly waves me off. Glad as he is to see me, he has a lot of work to do now.

I get on the train shortly before it heads off and start looking for someone to talk to. It isn't long before I find Johanna with her head out the window, grimacing in the wind.

"What a disappointment," she says, without bothering to turn around, loudly so that I can hear her. "I got to do it myself. I messed it up on purpose, just so he could writhe on the floor for several minutes in utter agony. And I'm already sick of the feeling."

"Well, come on," I say, "you knew the war was going to end someday, didn't you?"

"I still don't think they suffered enough," she says bitterly, bringing her head back in. "Coin had this great idea, to run one more round of the Hunger Games for the children of the Capitol, just to show them who's boss. But it got voted down. That really stunk. I really wanted to kill Snow then. If he couldn't watch his granddaughter get brutalized, what was the point of even keeping him around?"

Suddenly, without any warning she jumps up and hugs me. I'm taken aback at first, but after those confusing first seconds I return the squeeze.

"That was all nonsense you said. You and I both know that there's no one waiting for me to come back," she says, whispering in my ear. "But it was a nice gesture."

We sit down and chat about various things. The other surviving tributes left almost immediately after Snow's execution to positions they had already accepted. Johanna had to stick around and argue with the government over what exactly her job was going to be. Johanna explains that she turned down a position in the cabinet so that she could represent District Seven in the new government. After what she did for the war effort she could have had any position she wanted, but I have to admit I like the way she puts it-

"Peeta, you, me, all of us, we're just screwed up kids looking for some peace of mind. We're not actually competent at much of anything. I know that I'm really good at being a complete bitch, and that's not a job that goes well with actually being in charge of anything."

When the train makes it to District Twelve, I wish Johanna luck in connecting with her constituents. In return she smiles. Not the vicious, hateful smile she usually goes for, but like she was actually glad to see me for a bit. I'm glad seeing it. It makes me hopeful that she'll find something nice for herself.

At the District Twelve station I find that I'm the only person on the platform as the train rushes off. I wasn't exactly expecting a welcoming committee, since I didn't really send advance notice of my arrival or anything, but the emptiness of my old hometown makes me feel a little empty inside. Right when I've decided which part of the slightly less destroyed area I want to check out first, I'm surprised with a hug from behind.

"Guess who!" cries the bright, cheery voice that could only possibly be Delly. I don't even bother saying her name as I turn around. I'm just glad she didn't cover my eyes, or I might have panicked badly.

I look her over. She's been in better shape, but she's not as bad as the last time I saw her. Delly's supporting herself with crutches, and it's obvious that only her incredible force of will is what's allowing her to hold on to me like this. I have to help her back onto them.

"So!" she says, "why don't you look over the town and see what we've done?"

She leads me on a tour. I have to admit, most of it doesn't really look that good. Several buildings that before couldn't have even weathered a rainstorm can now weather a rainstorm, but that's about it. And yet for every single one of them Delly has an elaborate story involving names of people with elaborate stories of their own of how they survived the war and came back and gained the willpower to put up a few walls on a mostly destroyed house. It's actually pretty inspirational. I half expect camera crews to be lurking around somewhere, but somehow I doubt motivating the people is quite so important now that it's not a matter of immediate life and death.

When we get to the victor village, the only part of District Twelve that's still intact, Delly tells me that I should get acquainted with what's going on here myself and hobbles off, shouting words of encouragement at some distant rebuilding effort. I wonder how many of the people here now only came because of Delly. If I had to guess, probably most of them.

At Haymitch's house I walk in to see Haymitch wearing, of all things, a nice suit. He's well-groomed. His hair looks clean. And I don't think I smell liquor anywhere. I must stand there for at least a minute just staring at him. He just stands there motionless, until his face finally breaks out laughing.

"Ha! It was worth it! I should have left yesterday, but just to see the look on your face when I'm wearing this garbage, fantastic!"

Haymitch gives me a clap on the back. He's decided that Johanna has the right idea, and that the best thing he can do for Panem right now is to accept a job with no significant responsibilities, and act as the belligerent representative of District Twelve. There seems to be some minor disagreement over whether Johanna or Haymitch came up with the idea first, and who exactly was copying whom, but it's not a big deal to me. It's a bit of a relief, from my perspective anyway. We sit and chat with each other for awhile. I feel like there's something I need to let him know.

"Haymitch, you might be a jerk, but I think I'm all right with that."

"Of course you are," he snorts. "In the long run it keeps working out, doesn't it?"

We sit in silence for a moment. It's a nice silence, not awkward at all. I'm glad that I got to know Haymitch as someone besides the stupid drunk at every year's Reaping. I doubt very much he's going to stay sober for much of his government work, but I'm all right with that. After the Capitol, I think our new society needs people who make partying not seem like such a good idea.

"You should know, Peeta," he says, ending the silence, "that she's here, over in her house. I think she'd like to have a talk with you."

I nod my head and make myself get up, moving the short distance it takes to get to Katniss' house. On the first floor there's no one there but that scraggly cat Buttercup. He looks at me and yawns, deciding to go to sleep. I think of how wonderful it is that there's been someone, this whole time, who genuinely did not care what I thought about or what I've been doing. It's a nice feeling to just feel unimportant for a moment, especially now that I have to go upstairs, and face the one person that I've been avoiding this entire time.