"Enemy"
A/N: Okay I think I have actually hit the point in my stories where things just randomly click and writing it becomes super easy. This chapter was stuck for a long time and then suddenly it just all came flooding out and I'm already well into the next chapter. Hopefully things can speed up from here. Regardless, enjoy the second day of training with the lovely gals Ainsley and Everly.
~Pray it away
I swear I'll never be a saint, no way~
Ainsley Maris Sims
The Career pack isn't in an ideal state. I knew from the start that this wouldn't be easy, the reaping recaps shattered any disillusioned thinking that a sensible pack of six would form. District One is a complete wash full of egotistical rich kids who have been handed everything in life and never had to fight for a thing. But they're half the pack, and Arno and Ethan are too soft and weak to stand up to them. Everly is the only one who would maybe stand with me against them, but she's only marginally less closed off to me than she is to them. So my closest ally in the pack has said maybe ten words to me the entire first two days of training.
Again, not ideal. On the bright side, District One have rocks for brains. They spent the entire first day of training playing games and mocking the outliers. Once they go into the arena their games will get them killed. Maybe they'll get cocky and an outlier will take them by surprise, or they'll all turn on each other when things get tough and they stop getting three full meals a day at the clap of their hands.
I shouldn't even spend any time bothering with them. But it's hard to ignore the unjustness of it all. After everything I've gone through, all the sacrifice and hard work that it took to just barely scrape up enough points to win a chance to volunteer, what did these District One brats do to earn their spot? Just a bunch of rich kids spoon-fed everything they've ever gotten in life. Ariya and Pierre at least are probably the best fighters their district has to offer, but May? She's fifteen and doesn't take any of this the least bit seriously. Her last name is the only reason she's here, and it's infuriating.
She'll pay for that soon enough though, so I need to just let it go. Maybe when she finds herself way out of her depth in the arena, she'll start regretting her choice. Until then, I just have to put up with them all for a few more days. Even if they don't get any less annoying in the arena, we can split into hunting groups and I can get far away from their trio.
Ethan and Arno may not be what I was hoping to find as my allies, but they're at least tolerable, and Everly is predictable if nothing else. She wants to win and is focused on that goal, just like me. Whatever other differences we have, at least there's that commonality.
Pierre's threat about the weapon seems to have expired. Either that, or Pierre just got bored scaring off the outliers and has moved onto something else. The whole District One team was two hours late to practice this morning, and have spent their time doing dumb competitions with bows and throwing knives. In the meantime, a handful of outliers have moved to a few of the weapon stations.
Most of them are still wasting their time, but a few of the outliers are setting themselves apart as potential threats. Kyler Valde has been boxing and doesn't throw a half bad right hook. The District Eleven pair, Ceeja and Lakin, aren't exactly impressive with swords, but the fact they're willing to even try a weapon is something. The District Ten team of Jedediah and Thomas have joined with Kiera Polski from Six, and while they aren't at the weapons stations yet, they have enough numbers and muscle to look out for. It's Kiera's district partner, Azai Zoltankild, who possesses the only real threat. He's been working with spears all morning, and while he's rusty, he has a decent enough handle on the basics that it wouldn't surprise me if he's able to take down a Career after another day of training.
Well, a few specific Careers that is. From what little training I have seen from the rest of the group, it's already obvious there's a clear hierarchy within our alliance. Pierre is talented, there's no doubt about it, but he's also cocky and overconfident. Ariya and May are the same way but with less and less skill to back up that cockiness. Ethan is mediocre, somewhere in between Ariya and May. Arno is even less talented, which isn't news to me. He only just recently started training, and I'm not sure if I'd even bet on him against May. Everly is the best among us, except for maybe Pierre if he took the fight seriously.
"Watchya looking at?"
The katana slips out of my hands and clatters against the ground. Basila Romero, the slightly older of the two tweens from Eight, appears in front of me, a curious look etched on her face as she curves her head to look up at me.
"What do you think?" I say plainly, hoping the steel in my voice is enough to send her scurrying away. I don't want to sit here and bully a thirteen-year-old, but I'm not here to make friends with the outliers either.
"Dunno, that's why I was askin' ya," she replies lightly. I go to pick up my Katana, but she beats me there, running her finger along the blade as she picks it up and looks it over. "Cool sword."
"You're going to cut yourself on it," I warn her.
"I'm sure ya would be heartbroken to see that," she says.
"I don't care either way. I'm just telling you what's going to happen."
She shrugs. "I thought all ya District Four people used tridents and harpoons and nets 'n stuff."
I turn to the rack of weapons and run my hands along the dull blades, checking for the Katana with the just-right feel. "It's a big district."
"Is it?" She asks, tilting her head.
"Look." I sigh. "Why don't you go run back to your allies and annoy them instead? I've got stuff to do."
"I'm tryin' to learn how to use a weapon, and they're all scared that if they come with me you're all gonna kill 'em for it."
I pause with my hand on the blade and turn to face her. She's holding the Katana up in the air, staring at her reflection in the steel. She sounds sad saying it, but her eyes look angry.
"Pierre was just being an ass. Nobody's going to kill you for training." I find a short Katana that catches my interest and take hold of it.
"Ya," she blurts out. "I'm sure that if I run into ya in the arena you'll hold my hand and ask me how I'm doin'." She tosses the sword to the ground. "Don't act like you're any different from 'im."
I close my fist around the handle, squeezing tight. "What do you want? Do I need to start threatening you like Pierre to get you to go find someone else to bug? You have two more days left to train, if you don't want to die, then maybe you should start working for it."
She snorts, any traces of anger dissipating as she shrugs indifferently. "Jus' wanted to see what kinda person would volunteer to kill kids. Always figured from all the stories that you'd all be these big bad monsters. Ya know, seven feet tall, muscles on your muscles, always smiling those big, toothy, villainy smiles, maybe an eye patch or two. Some of 'em kinda look like that, and the rest act like it, but ya seemed different."
"Thanks," I respond dully.
She tilts her head at me oddly. "Wasn't a compliment."
Before I can take the time to think about that, a banging sound comes from the other side of the training room. I look over just in time to see the boy from Ten, Thomas Easton, the biggest outlier contender, lying on the hard floor below the climbing station, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
The screams follow quickly after as a stream of trainers flood over to him, shielding his body. They get him onto a stretcher and out of the training center in no time at all, but none of that matters. I catch another glimpse of his leg as they carry him out, and there's no mistaking it. Completely broken. Just like that our biggest contender might as well have just stepped off his plate.
The girl from Eight laughs. I turn over to her with a confused look on my face, but she doesn't spare a glance back at me, still staring at the spot where he fell. "Heck of a week," I hear her mutter under her breath, clearly not meant for me.
Finally, she does turn to me, a pleasant smile on her face as she bends down, picks up my Katana, and holds it out to me. I tentatively take it from her and she gives me an informal two-fingered salute. "See ya around, Four," she says.
I run my hand against the blade as she walks away, my eyes scanning over the room on autopilot as her words replay in my head. Before I can get lost any further in my thoughts, someone taps my shoulder and I spin around to face the source. This time it's a more welcome face, Arno crossing his arms as he looks between me and the spot of the accident.
"You see that?" He asks.
"The result of it," I reply.
He nods his head. "Good for us, I guess."
"No guessing about it," I say. "He has to die regardless, this just makes it easier for us to make that happen."
"Right," he says, clearly uncomfortable with that fact. "Lunch is soon, guess we can talk about it more as a whole group."
"Okay, I'll see you there. Just gonna get some more practice in before then."
"You want a sparring partner?" He offers, eyeing the wall of Katanas curiously.
"No," I say, readjusting my gloves, tightening them so that I nearly lose all the circulation in my hands. "Right now I just want to warm up by myself."
"Right on. Well, I'll be with Ethan at the archery station if you change your mind. Everly is with her swords, per usual, and I'm pretty sure District One is back on their floor taking a quick break before lunch. I'll let you break the good news to them if you want."
"Yeah," I say. "I'd love to."
Everly Amata
The first two days of training have almost been liberating. It's like a new world has opened up in front of me, full of new experiences and things to learn. I could spend an entire year in the training center, just absorbing all this new information and technique outside of my familiar corner in District Two.
But my time here is already running out. The day is half over, and then tomorrow is another half-day before we're expected to go through our Private Sessions. According to the mentors, they've streamlined the pre-games process and after tomorrow we only have one more day in the Capitol. A short morning to prepare for the interviews, the interviews themselves, and then we go to sleep, the arena waiting for us the next morning.
Just seventy-two hours from now my pedestal will be lifted into the arena, and the Hunger Games proper will begin. I've been so focused on every step of the journey that looking forward like that feels surreal. It's as if I've been barreling forward on this train with my head down, and now I'm lifting my chin to find my destination right within reach.
There's still so much I need to do. As much as I've enjoyed this time to myself, this time to just slow down and enjoy the process of learning and bettering myself, there are other things I've been ignoring that I need to pay attention to.
Chiefly among them are my allies. I wish that going solo was an option. I've always worked best by myself, and none of these other Careers are people I can trust. But that isn't an option. I have to join the pack, and that's a reality I need to start facing. Which means I need to start speaking with my allies. Riven was clear with her advice that making friends in the pack needs to be my first priority. You never want to be the odd one out. The pack will split at some point, and when that happens you need to make sure that you're on the right side of that divide.
This all goes through my mind while I pass through the line and I resolve myself to work on turning that around this lunch period. The two kids from District Nine are in front of me and keep peering back at me nervously, but I ignore them. I take a handful of fruit and drop it onto my tray then shove away from the line and make a beeline for the Career table that the others have already taken over.
District One is already there, the three already almost finished eating as they loudly laugh and joke around with one another. Ethan is sitting beside Arno and every once in a while will try to butt in with a comment or joke, but each time will be cut off and ignored before he can get a word in. Arno is sitting on the opposite side of the table next to May, quietly eating his lunch as he side-eyes the rest of the group. Ainsley is nowhere to be seen.
I slide my tray across from Ethan's, taking a seat next to Ariya, who flashes me a smile and a wave as I take my seat. The conversation seems to settle down at my arrival, Pierre pointing a fork at me thoughtfully as I settle in.
"Heard that there was some commotion down here this morning. We didn't miss out on too much fun, did we?"
I bite down on my tongue, resisting the flutter of words that I want to blurt out. Maybe you would know if you were down here training instead of wasting time messing around on your floor, may be the words I want to say, but Riven's advice is enough to temper that. Instead, I force out the words they want to hear, even though they feel like scalding water on my tongue.
"Thomas Easton fell down from the rock climbing wall and broke his leg," I say simply, stuffing my mouth with a banana.
"Thomas Easton?" Pierre asks.
"The boy from Ten," May says casually.
"Aren't there two of them?" Ariya asks.
"The older one." May picks at the food on her plate with her silverware.
"I'm surprised you remember that." We all turn to face Ainsley as she drops her tray down beside me and sinks into her seat.
May snorts, setting down her fork as she looks up at Ainsley defiantly. "And why is that?"
"I'm surprised anybody could remember it," Arno quickly chirps up, before Ainsley is given the chance to fire back. He laughs awkwardly. "Thomas Easton, pretty forgettable."
"They're all forgettable," Pierre says. "A bunch of scrawny thirteen and fourteen-year-olds, too afraid to hold a weapon because the edge might cut them. I'm almost sad Ten broke his leg, at least he would have been an interesting fight."
Ariya yawns. "You four have been spending a lot of time hanging out here, what do you think? Anybody else we need to worry about? Or is this gonna be a seventeen-person bloodbath into an honor duel tournament?"
"Dibs on first-round bye," May says cheekily.
I can't stay quiet any longer. "We're getting too ahead of ourselves," I say reproachfully. "There's still seventy-two hours until we're in the arena. There's plenty for us to work on before we get in there. If it really is so easy to beat all of them then we'll have plenty of time to relax and celebrate in the arena. Or after it."
"She's right," Ethan says. "There's things we should be discussing, as a full group, not a bunch of individuals. If we just work together as a team then they can't stop us. So maybe we should work out any problems we have with each other before we get in the arena. Just put it all on the table."
"Is this the part where we say what we don't like about each other?" May asks with faux excitement. "Because I can start."
"I think the opposite might be more useful," Arno says lightly.
"I'll start with Arno," May says. "He's too nice? It's kind of annoying."
"I'm sure you'd think that," Ainsley says coldly.
"Let's not." Arno sighs.
"As for Ainsley?" May continues, unperturbed. "She might be cool if she didn't have this awful training accident a few years back where one of her big ole Katanas got stuck up her–"
"This isn't helping," I say frustratedly. "How'd any of you survive in your academies?"
"Helps when daddy hands you everything on a silver platter," Ainsley says too-sweetly.
May leans in, looking halfway ready to leap across the table. A flicker of something dark runs across her eyes. "You think you know everything about me, huh?"
"Guys–" Arno barely gets a word in.
"You're a fifteen-year-old who thinks she's hot shit when she's the least talented one here and your last name is Redding." Ainsley laughs humorlessly. "It doesn't take a genius to fill in the gaps."
"We're from District Four!" Arno blurts out, right as the two girls look ready to tear each other's throats out. "I started training a year ago and I'm already the second-best trainee in the district. We don't exactly have a ton of experience, either."
Ainsley drops the knife from her hand and looks over to Arno. "You're taking her side in this?" She says incredulously.
"He isn't taking anyone's side," I mutter. "He's just trying to stop the pack from blowing up before the Games even begin."
"Is that so much to ask?" Arno asks tiredly.
Pierre speaks up for the first time, his tone neutral as he continues to shovel down food. "Pack or no pack, it makes no difference with what the outliers are showing. But it's always more fun with a group."
"I think we need to bury some hatchets," Ariya says overly pleasantly. "Ooh! You know what we need? A party! Just a bunch of besties drinking and playing games and bonding and having a good time."
"I don't think that's what we need," I say bluntly.
She shrugs. "We'll circle back to it."
"For now, let's just do something that will be inoffensive to everybody," Ethan suggests. "There's seventeen outliers, none of us have had the time to see each and every one of them. But together as a group, we should be able to talk through each of them and see which ones are threats."
"Figure out a pecking order of who to target at the bloodbath," Pierre says, nodding his head. From the exasperated look he wears that doesn't seem to be what Ethan was suggesting, but he doesn't correct him.
"Eleven and Ten are the only ones that can fight, the rest are irrelevant," Ariya says in a bored voice.
"Don't forget Kyler," Ainsley says, not looking up from her food as she speaks, picking away at the pasta with her fork. "He looks like he has fighting experience. And besides, his sister was popular last year, so he'll have sponsors."
"That's a good point," I say. "If we think there aren't that many strong fighters, we should take out the ones that will be stealing sponsors from us. You never know, it might be a barren cornucopia and arena. We might need sponsors for food or water or weapons."
"So both of District Five have to go then," Ethan says.
"District Seven too," May says glumly. "Gal says that the Capitol is loving the drama about their story, he says we just need to kill one of them though and that'll be enough."
"What about that kid from Six?" Pierre asks, looking directly at me. "The one who was doing all those crazy flips and stuff on the mats yesterday?"
"Azai Zoltankild," I say. "He's a gymnast."
"Not half bad with a spear, though," Arno says through a mouthful of spaghetti.
"Ah, look at us!" Ariya squeals. "We have our first official kill list. That's so cute of us."
"So cute," Ainsley says drolly.
Ethan coughs. "Then it's the non-crippled guy from Ten, both from Eleven, both from Five, either one from Seven, and Azai from Six? Anyone we're missing?"
We all look around the table, but nobody has anything else to say. It's hard to not notice Ainsley looking a bit hesitant, though. I decide not to push it. There's been enough in-fighting for one meal.
"Great!" Pierre announces. "Seven targets, that's one for each. We can each pick a person and then target them at the bloodbath, even if we don't get any more kills, everyone else that's left is harmless."
"How do we want to pick names then?" May asks, a burst of energy overtaking her as she looks around the table excitedly. "A draft? Draw names out of a hat? Ooh, we could do some games for it, maybe at the party that Ariya was talking about. . . ."
"Maybe we wait 'till we see their scores before we decide," Arno says hesitantly. "If one of them surprises us with a ten or something, maybe we send Pierre and Everly at them."
I look over at him oddly, taken aback at the casual compliment. I'm more surprised by the lack of disagreement that follows though, everybody nodding in easy agreement at the proposal. I'm barely given time to process the meaning of it before a buzzer goes off and the intercom announces that lunch is over.
We all shovel our last bits of food in our mouths and begin to stand up. Before we can head out, though, Pierre stops us. "That was a productive lunch," he says, in a voice far too pleasant for the type of person he's already shown himself to be. "Let's meet again at lunch tomorrow, talk some more strategy. Only way any of us die is from each other, right? So let's save it for the finale, give the audience a real good couple of fights."
I nod my head, keenly aware of the way that even as he looks at the whole group, he only seems to truly be seeing me. "I'm looking forward to it."
A/N: Things heating up in the Career pack. Having a ton of fun writing this, and hopefully gonna be able to get the last day of training out to you all before the end of this 4 day weekend I have. See y'all next chap with Ariya and our D12 mentor Tristan!