Nubu Sanders
"Is Victory all right?"
Blinding light seared my eyes and I threw my hands over them protectively. I wasn't sure why I was in a hospital bed. Victory was the one that got hurt. I'd barely gotten a scratch in the whole Games. There weren't even any doctors buzzing around. I'd caught a glimpse of Demi sitting by my bed, but that was it. I really wasn't sure why I heard her burst out crying as soon as I sat up.
"What's wrong?" I asked. No man ever knows what to do when a woman cries. We always feel like it's our fault we didn't fix it before it was too late.
"I'm so glad you're back," she said. "It's been so long." I opened my eyes in a narrow squint and awkwardly patted her back, even though it seemed inappropriate.
"Don't worry. I'm okay. I didn't even get hurt. Can you turn off the light? And is Victory okay?" I asked.
"It's all right. She's dead," Demi said. I sat up straight and she sort of slid sideways off me, almost falling off her chair. She tried to play it off like she was just standing up and she went to the door to flip the light switch. It was too late, though. My eyes were already tearing up for a different reason.
"She's dead?" Then I killed her. I didn't even think about it at the time. Only after the blade punched through her did I realize she was a person just like the little girl. She was a killer, but I didn't bring justice by killing her too. I only removed any chance she had of changing. I didn't avenge a murder. I committed one. And then I was crying and Demi was awkwardly patting my back.
"What's wrong? You're the Victor. We don't have to do this anymore," Demi said.
"They don't get to go home," I said.
I'd forgotten how much the Capitol changed Victors until I went to see my stylists. I was relieved to see they hadn't changed much. I must have already matched their standards for beauty. I was more muscular and they tanned my skin. My jaw was a little squarer and I was an inch taller. I didn't want to think about how they did that, and it threw off my balance. It was like I was trying to walk while I was drunk.
I was in such good shape it was hardly any time at all before I went to get crowned. The only affect from the Arena was slight malnutrition, which wasted my body and made my hair brittle. They fixed that before the stylists even got to me. It was like nothing had happened at all. But they couldn't cover anything up. I knew what we'd gone through, and all Panem had seen it.
I'd seen Harlequin run both hot and cold, but she seemed genuinely happy to see me. From what I'd seen from past Games, she preferred outliers to Careers, and she didn't let any Tribute give her crap. I was raised to be polite, and she must have approved.
"At last, the debut of Twelve's first Victor!" she said as I came onstage. Fanfare and applause blasted through the room, reminding me of how the Arena shook that night. I wa glad when it stopped as I took my seat.
"I'm so glad to see you back, Nubu. Aren't we all?" Harlequin said, and the crowd shouted agreement. "I was rooting for you from the start. Of course I'm not allowed to sponsor, but I was ready to call in a few favors. But you did it all by yourself! You've made us all proud."
Proud of what? She just said she didn't have anything to do with it. And why would she be proud if she did? She wouldn't have been so proud if she had been my final opponent. She wouldn't be rooting for me then.
"I'm glad it's over," I said.
"You said it. It was all tremendously exciting, of course, but I couldn't bear much more. My nerves are fried," Harlequin said. Naturally, she was only playing it up for the cameras. She knew her discomfort couldn't compare to my terror.
"Speaking of impatience, let's see some replays," Harlequin said. The screen behind us flashed on and the recap started. For a few minutes, it was like my allies were alive again. I treasured every moment I saw Zetan, Arter, and Gizmo alive with me. I saw us lying around, joking and laughing. They showed Arter's death, and the first crack appeared. I wanted to jump through the screen and save him. Some people in the audience hissed. I wished they'd remember what he was before the Games, not the Capitol mockery of him.
Most of the recap was devoted to the mutts. It felt strange to think I'd been in an Arena of dinosaurs and I'd barely seen any of them. All the Tributes with the coolest stories were dead. When I saw the asteroid hit, I finally knew what made the Arena break that day.
The fanfare was loud again when Galba came to crown me. I'd never seen her so close before, and I saw she was older than she looked. There were stress lines and a tightness to her face she never let the cameras see. Sometimes the crowns she gives out are complex or personalized, but mine was simple. It seemed to represent my Arena, not me. But then, my role in these Games was pretty boring. My crown was a basic king-type crown, but it was dark blue, almost as dark as the Arena at the end. It had a single white stone. People in Twelve know stones, and I recognized that it was a moonstone. It must have referred to the asteroid that came down from the heavens.
I was glad when the coronation was finally over. I wasn't a hero, and I didn't deserve a crown for what I did.
