TRIS POV

"Fights today," Christina reminds me as we saunter into the training room.

I sigh. Between hearing the news of suicides and being taunted into shooting a gun for the first time in a year, it totally slipped my mind that we were done with gun training and moving straight on to fighting. I haven't really been paying attention during training since it has mostly been a reiteration, but it doesn't really matter. With or without training, I am prepared. Plus I have the advantage of experience that the new initiates don't have.

"It feels like they threw us in the ring faster last year," I say.

She scoffs. "I know. I feel like these initiates are getting it easy this year. You know, they have no idea what it's like to have Eric stalking every move they make."

I shudder at the recollection, how he forced us to fight until someone was unconscious, how he demanded that Four throw knives at me, how he threatened to kick Christina out to the factionless if she didn't hang over the chasm for five minutes. These new initiates may be wary of Four, but they would be physically peeing their pants if Eric was their instructor.

"Yeah, hopefully we won't have to worry about fighting until one of us can't continue," I grumble as we crowd around Four with everyone else.

When I see him, everything inside of me collapses. The unspeakable insults he cut me with last night echo off these very walls and reopen the gaping wounds that I have tried to patch up over the last twelve hours. I don't care that that was his point, to drive me to rage so that I would overcome my pain and shoot; he couldn't have made up those remarks on the spot, so they must be true to some extent.

And it tortures me as much as it tortures him. Despite what he thinks, I did love him. I just couldn't be a decent enough person for him, and I proved that by putting him through all of those situations that he spoke of. More than anything, I hate hurting the people I love, and even though he is in the past, I still ache for him.

He looks uncharacteristically alert for this time of morning, with his back rigid and his muscled arms crossed, but that might have something to do with the Dauntless leader standing next to him.

"What is Hunter doing here?" Christina whispers.

I only shrug and scan the list of names scrawled on the chalkboard next to them in Four's handwriting. I will fight fourth, before Christina, and my opponent is Dez.

I meet her frightened eyes from across the group, and they plead with me for mercy. Biting my cheek so hard I eventually taste blood, I force myself to turn away. All I can think is I don't want to fight someone so helpless.

Once everyone has filed in, Four clears his throat and addresses us.

"Initiates," he says. "Today is the first day of fights. For the first few, we will have a guest watching. I'm assuming you are familiar with our leader, Hunter. He will be explaining how the fights work."

I frown. This feels like last year all over again, with a Dauntless leader overseeing—more like taking charge of—our training. I can only wish that he is not brutal like Eric was.

Hunter takes the floor. "Thank you, Four," he says. "So you may be wondering why a Dauntless leader would take an interest in brand new transfers. Well, this is where it all begins, where we separate the men from the boys, the soldiers from the bystanders. At this stage of training—no matter how ill-prepared you may be—this is how we find the strongest initiates. You could be completely ignorant when it comes to fighting and still drag yourself up when everyone thinks you are finished. That is what we are looking for in potential future Dauntless members because the war showed us that the bravest are the ones who can take hits and still come together to fight."

In a way, I agree. Some of the weakest people have the most fire in them. But I have a feeling that last year's rules have not changed, and I don't see the point in ruling out the more fragile people by seeing which ones can handle getting pummeled more times and which ones cannot.

"That being said, the fights will continue until one of you is physically unfit to continue. Most of the time this ends in the loser getting knocked out. This way, you won't be tempted to concede."

A few muffled gasps reach my ears, and I close my eyes, disappointed.

"I think that covers it. Let's begin," Four says, and I can tell by the almost unnoticeable tightness in his voice that he doesn't agree with this. "First fight: Justin versus Derek."

Justin, the blonde boy we met a couple nights ago, shakes out his hands and steps into the ring with a nonchalant look on his face. Derek, who is shorter and less confident than him, tightens his shoelaces before doing the same.

And you would think that all eyes would be on the pair, but Peter has other ideas when he slyly joins Christina and I next to the mat.

"What's up, Stiff? You actually decided to show up to training today?" he taunts.

"Yep." I leave it at that. He doesn't need to know why I didn't attend gun training, although I'm sure he knows why. He doesn't need to know how I made up the points, and certainly not who helped me, since that would warrant a fresh string of teasing.

"Well, I'm assuming you're low on the scoreboard this time because of your absences..." A menacing grin turns up his lips. "Maybe I will get the top spot I deserve this year."

I roll my eyes and watch as Justin lands a heavy blow to Derek's jaw. "And if you don't?" I ask. "What are you going to do, stab me in the eye while I sleep? Find some buddies that will help you throw me in the chasm?"

He throws his hands up. "Wow. I'm hurt that you would think so low of me."

"You did that to yourself, Peter," Christina says. "Now what do you really want from us? The Peter I know wouldn't talk to us unless he wanted something, and that something is usually bad."

"Nothing. Cross my heart," he offers. How was he ever Candor? "Unless you happen to know how I can get on Four's good side, then..."

After trying to toss me into the chasm, I don't think Four will ever show any decency to Peter Hayes ever again. Definitely not enough to bump up his rank.

"Bye, Peter," I finish, leaving no room for him to continue his antics. He laughs maniacally and returns to Jessica's side on the other side of the mat.

She is whispering something to April, something that must do with the only instructor with a number for a name in the room. My blood boils, and I dig my nails into my palms as I observe her lusting over my ex-boyfriend, who shows no interest by paying attention to the fight.

"What a hoe," Christina says aloud. "Who throws themselves at their instructor?" And then with a glance over at me, she adds, "Not you, I mean. That's not what I meant."

I wave her off, knowing she didn't mean any harm. I'm more occupied by an idea that just occurred to me though. Now I know why Peter is making nice with Jessica: if she were to pursue a relationship with Four, then she would presumably ask him to help her friends out in the rankings. Little does Peter know, Four isn't corruptible like that, wouldn't even raise my rank if I begged him to last year.

The current fight ends with Justin as the winner and Derek as the one in desperate need of the infirmary. The next two fights are less interesting and only serve to put off my own fight that I am dreading. Hunter leaves in the middle of the third one, claiming that he has leadership business to attend to, and suddenly I am slightly less stressed. Maybe Four will let it go if Dez fakes unconsciousness...

"Next fight: Tris versus Dez."

With a deep breath filled with apprehension, I step up into the ring and meet Dez in the middle of it. She tightens her brown ponytail with trembling fingers and throws a half smile my way, maybe to gain sympathy, but either way it works. We both know that I will destroy her in this fight, with my experience and my strength.

Before we even begin circling each other, I whisper to her, "Pretend to faint."

"What?" Her eyes are wide and confused.

"When you take a hard hit, pretend to pass out."

I see unease in her nod, and I can only hope that she will abide by my plea. I don't want to hit someone like her when she clearly can't fight back.

"What are you waiting for?" Four calls impatiently. "We don't have all day."

While casting a mental glare his way, I get into a defensive position, and Dez copies me. She leaves open a few holes that she wouldn't be able to close quickly enough though, and I know without a doubt that she will not have it easy today.

We begin circling each other, and I punch her in the side to warm her up. A wheeze leaves her, and she backs up to gather her bearings for a second before returning back to the center.

She doesn't know what is coming. I doubt someone as gentle as her has had many bruises in her life, yet she joined Dauntless anyway. And here she is, struggling to keep up with me when we haven't even begun.

I hit her in the jaw next, and when she isn't expecting it, I land another blow underneath it. She gasps, blood rushing to the surface of her skin and tears prickling in her eyes.

I'm sorry, I think. I hate this as much as you do.

Dez sniffles and comes back for more. I hit her in the nose, and it is enough to finally knock her down. I can only pray that she doesn't get up again.

But she does. She drags herself back up to her feet and wipes the blood away from her upper lip and gets into a sloppy position again.

"What are you doing?" I hiss at her. "Stay down!"

"No," she whimpers before attempting a swing at me.

I block her hit and knock her back down with a punch to her stomach. I wince along with her and watch as she shakes trying to push herself up again.

I can't do this. If I hit her one more time, it will be too much but just enough and she doesn't deserve that pain, especially since she may have to fight again tomorrow. I can't make this any worse for her than I already have.

So I try to pin her down with my eyes, but she just pushes herself up on all fours.

"I-I can't," I finally say. All eyes in the room stare at me incredulously, though admiringly because I was able to say what they couldn't.

"What?" Four scowls.

"I'm done!" I shout at him, walking out of the ring.

He catches me by the arm, his grip rough but still enough to awaken the want in my core. "Tris—"

I round on him shoving him as hard as I can, though he barely moves an inch. "No!" I yell up at him. "I said I'm done. I am not beating a helpless girl just to prove that I'm a better fighter than her; I have already established that, and she has shown that she is brave enough to get up each time she gets pummeled. Now let me go."

I see Dez's same pain reflecting back at me through his eyes. He knows what it is like to be that pitiable kid that keeps getting wailed on because the stronger person won't relent. Who knows, maybe he will just let this ordeal go, despite his orders from Hunter.

He releases my arm, and I storm out of the training room to clean my knuckles.


I visit Dez later that day, when she is more awake and coherent than she was earlier—and than I thought she would be. She is sporting a black nose and several bruises on her jawline, but she is sitting up in the infirmary bed, talking avidly with Christina.

"Hi, Tris," she says softly when she sees me approaching the bed. I really hope it isn't because she is afraid of me now.

"Hi," I reply, looking down at my split knuckles. "I think I owe you a few apologies."

A breathy laugh escapes her, cut off quickly by the pain it takes to do so. "No, you don't. It's a part of training. I understand."

"No, I..." I shake my head. "I shouldn't have left you there, first of all. I just couldn't think, and all I wanted was to leave that room before I suffocated."

"It's okay. Christina helped me get here."

I nod. "That's good." And then I add, "And I also want to say sorry for beating you up, obviously."

"Seriously, Tris, it's fine. Don't worry about it," Dez says. It is easily spoken, but I still feel guilt clawing at my throat. "Besides, I should be thanking you."

I stare at her, dumbfounded. "Huh?"

"Seeing you push Four around was hilarious."

Christina giggles. "It really was."

I offer them a slight smile, though I know it was wrong to shove him. I don't want any of the initiates to view him as anything less than impenetrable. "Yeah, well, I'm lucky. He wouldn't let anyone else do that." He shouldn't have let me get away with it in the first place.

I change the subject. "Wait, Dez," I say. "Why haven't you been sitting with us during meals the last few days?" Her absence has perplexed me because I thought she was our friend, and I'm sure she doesn't have anyone else here being the only Amity transfer.

She shrugs. "I just didn't know if you guys wanted me there," she mumbles shyly. "I mean, you all are war heroes, and I'm just this little girl from Amity of all places..."

Christina speaks my mind before I can. "No, no, no. We did what we could to survive last year. Trust me, we aren't heroes. In fact, we made some of the biggest mistakes of our lives during that time," she rambles.

"It's true," I tack on. "Just because our names are spread everywhere through gossip, don't think that that makes us important. You're our friend, okay? And don't feel like you're any lesser than us just because we've been through this before either."

She blushes and admits, "I thought initiation would be easier for someone like me, but I guess I was wrong."

"It's hard for everyone." Even brutish Al couldn't handle initiation, though he had a fragile mind.

"Yeah. I just..." Dez covers her face. "I joined Dauntless because I didn't want to be scared anymore. The possibility of war still keeps me up sometimes, and I remember all the bodies I saw, and every time I think about how I don't want to be helpless like that. I want to be able to defend myself like the rest of the Dauntless can, and here I am, this pathetic mess." She chuckles dryly and gestures to her nose.

I admire her reason for transferring. And since she seems to always be looking for my approval, I give her some. It is the least I can do. "Well, if today proved anything, it's that you are brave enough for Dauntless," I say. "And trust me, that will matter more when it comes down to rankings, especially in the second stage."

It gets her to smile triumphantly.


"I still feel bad," I tell Christina as we walk to the training room later that night.

"Well, don't. We've all had to beat people up." I throw her an unbelieving side glance. "What? It's true."

"Yeah, but I don't like to be callous about it."

She bumps into me on purpose. "Speaking of calluses, let's hurry and get this over with. I want to go to bed sometime today," she quips.

"You don't have to," I say as I push the training room doors open. "I just thought it would be good to get some extra practice in—"

A loud roar cuts me off. In the center of the training room, a large crowd is packed around the ring, where two people are presumably battling it out. I remember someone telling me that that is one of the job options once you complete initiation: fighting for entertainment.

"This must be intense!" Christina shouts in my ear so I can hear her over all of the noise. "Let's watch!"

Begrudgingly, I follow her to an open spot in the crowd so that we can see what is happening in the ring, but in reality I don't want to watch another fight. I have seen enough of those for today, for a lifetime.

But my attention is caught on the fight when one of the fighters turns with his back to me, and I notice a tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

"Is that Four?" Christina gapes, and I do too. We both watch, her with interest and I with horror as he circles his opponent in the ring and throws a visibly shattering punch that has the audience shouting again.

Everything is wrong about this. Tobias took no enjoyment from fighting, in fact he dreaded it because it reminded him of his father. He only resorted to violence when he had nowhere else to turn.

But this man in front of me is not him. This is heartless Four, who seems to take pleasure in dodging fists and feet and retorting with a skilled blow to the other man's weakest places.

And that simple fact that he has utterly vanished makes tears well up in my eyes, even though I already knew it. It certainly doesn't make matters any better when he takes a cruel hit to the temple, and the impact makes me step back even though I am not the one who got injured.

I don't even stay to see the outcome, though I know he will win. I don't even stay to tell Christina that I am ditching her. I leave before the tears fall, carried out by the sounds of cheers and people betting their points on the winner.


So I am considering posting chapters every other day from now on. would you guys prefer that or my current schedule?

Thanks for reading and reviewing!