I decided to post this because I'm clearly not gonna get any more reviews and what the heck, why not. Review.

And btw, since it's been two weeks, Hiro was being swept over a waterfall last time we saw him.

The ground beneath my feet disappears, and my scream is swallowed as I plummet toward the ground.

The only indication of when I hit the ground is a sudden explosion of pain in my side. The water swallows my scream as I plunge under the surface, but I manage to get just enough air to hold my breath until I get out of this (censored) flood.

The waves sweep me onto the bank and I barely manage to drag myself a few feet before I collapse, coughing up enough water to fill a small swimming pool. Each cough sends white-hot jolts of pain through my ribs, but at least I can breathe. That was a luxury I was deprived of for far too long.

I flop onto my back and just lie there, not wanting to get up. I really just don't want to move. I want to lie here forever and let someone else win the Games.

After a few minutes, I hear a soft whirring sound above me. I look up to see a silver drone descending toward me. It lands at my feet and I remove its contents—a small bottle of painkillers.

"Thank you, Tadashi," I breathe, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and taking one—dry-mouthed, but at least it eases the pain a little. They're common medicine and won't last too long, so I take two, figuring I'll either be dead or victor in a few days anyway.

I sit there for at least fifteen more minutes until the sound of soft footsteps reaches me and I push myself up, instantly on the alert. I need a weapon. Where…

My bow and arrows are thirty feet down the bank. I've got no chance. Whoever it is could easily take me down before I got to them.

"Hiro?"

"Megan!"

Megan collapses next to me and throws her arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft whimper as she squeezes my ribs—the painkillers might already be wearing off.

A twig cracks in the woods and Megan gasps, pulling away. I get to my feet and pull her up. She's shivering again. The water must have broken her fever.

Our only remaining competitor—the girl from District Four—emerges from the trees. A long, thin sword is clutched in her fingers, the blade stained with blood. She's killed already. And she's not afraid to do it again.

"Look at that," the girl sneers. "The District Three lovebirds trying to protect each other. How cute."

I pull the knife from my belt, knowing it'll be useless against that but that I'm not going down without a fight.

The girl smirks when she sees my knife. "Go ahead, District Three. See how long you last. I could count on my fingers the number of seconds you'd live."

"We'll see."

I fling the knife at her, praying just this once it'll go straight. It grazes her shoulder, not enough to scare her off, but it slows her down. While she's distracted, I lunge for my bow and arrows.

By the time she recovers, I have an arrow nocked and aimed at her neck.

I won't do it. I know that. I'll die before I kill anyone. But she doesn't know.

Megan flings a knife at the District Four girl, hers aiming to kill. Megan is not afraid to take someone else's life in exchange for her own.

Megan's knife catches the girl in the leg, lodging in her calf. She shrieks and yanks the knife out, tossing it to the ground.

I take aim at the girl's sword arm and fire. She deflects the arrow, the metal bouncing off her sword. But while it didn't hit, it did distract her long enough for Megan to get behind her.

Megan leaps at the girl from behind, locking her in hand-to-hand combat. Megan's faster, but the other girl is bigger, giving her a huge advantage in such close quarters.

I abandon my bow and pick up the discarded knife. Maybe she's a Career, well fed and strong, but we'll be two against one.

The District Four girl throws Megan off her. Meg slams into a tree and falls to the ground, limp.

"Meg!"

Make that one on one.

The girl turns to me. "Your turn."

I slash at her sword hand, cutting across her wrist. She shrieks and slams the hilt of her blade into my side, hitting one of the breaks in my ribs. I cry out and fall to my knees, the impact breaking through my painkillers. Megan screams my name as the girl slams into my torso. She pins me to the ground and digs the tip of her sword into my gut, just below my rib cage. I lunge toward her sword arm with my knife, but she knocks it out of my hand and pins my wrists above my head, never moving the tip of her blade. Megan starts to get up, but the girl lands a kick to her head, knocking her down again.

The girl grins down at me and slowly, agonizingly drags her blade across my gut. I scream, the painkillers completely worn off by now. The girl laughs softly and tears spring to my eyes as she traces her finger through the cut, eliciting a whimper of pain from me. I wouldn't be surprised if her hand was on fire. It hurts like she's dragging a second blade through my skin.

Then suddenly, her eyes widen and her mouth opens slightly, her hand slackening. The light in her eyes fades and she slumps on top of me, dead.

Megan stands over her, her knife bloody. She looks triumphant, but it only lasts a minute before she crumples to her knees, the knife falling from her grasp.

"Megan!"

I rush to her side, my breathing heavy and painful. I catch Megan before she can hit the ground and gently rest her against a tree.

"Megan?" I whisper. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Hiro," she mumbles. "I should have told you."

"Told me what?"

She doesn't answer.

"Megan?"

"I got hurt in the bombing," she says. "It's infected. It has been for days now."

My eyes widen. "No. You are not going to die. I forbid it."

She smiles slightly. Those are her mother's words.

"Go win the Games, Hiro," Megan says. "You deserve it."

"No." My voice cracks. "Please, Megan…"

"Just remember I saved you, okay?"

I rub my eyes. "I will."

"I liked you, Hiro. Maybe even loved you."

The statement startles me, but all I can think is one thing.

I should give her one good kiss before she dies.

I lean down and press my lips to hers. She gasps against my mouth but doesn't pull away.

Then her body goes limp and the light goes out in her eyes. I pull back as her cannon sounds.

I have won the Hunger Games.

I feel no joy and no pride whatsoever.

tadashi hamada

He did it.

Hiro won the Games.

Hiro is going to be okay.

I watch as Hiro stands up over Megan Everdeen's body, clutching the slash under his ribs. He presses three fingers to his lips and raises them into the air—the Mockingjay Salute.

It's a rebellion, no doubt. The salute has been outlawed for thirty years, and Hiro just broadcast it to all of Panem on live television. Over Katniss Everdeen's daughter, no less.

Trumpets sound, and the voice of Claudius Templesmith blares: "Citizens of Panem, I give you the victor of the 105th Hunger Games: District Three, Hiro Hamada!"

I sneak a glance at the Gamemakers, who sit twenty feet from the mentors in the stands. They look angry. Angry that Katniss's daughter died with honor, not as one of the first tributes killed. Angry that their victor stayed with her while she died. Angry that he used an illegal salute to say goodbye.

They're not going to let this go. They will punish Hiro for it, and everyone will know. Everyone will know that a thirteen-year-old boy tried to rebel against the Capitol and suffered for it. Hiro will be a scapegoat, a warning. A reminder to Panem that they do not fight.

Hiro holds his fingers in the air for another moment, ignoring the voices announcing his victory, then crumples to the ground.

"Hiro!"

Before I know it, I am out of my seat, out of the building, and running toward the arena. I know where it is, how to get in, and that I have to get my little brother out.

I hurriedly type in the code to unlock the arena gates and dart in. Hiro lies a hundred yards into the arena, his eyes closed, his breathing uneven, but at least there.

I pull Hiro's slender form into my arms and carry him out of the arena, amazed at how tiny he is. Less than five feet tall, couldn't tip the scale at seventy pounds soaking wet. No one believed he could win the Games, even after the ten he scored in training. That's why I couldn't help him as much as I wanted to—no sponsors. The painkillers came from my money. But he handled it all pretty well himself.

A band of Peacekeepers in white uniforms meet us at the gates, here to take away my little brother and do who knows what to him. I try to resist, but they pry me away from Hiro and drag us in opposite directions—him toward the Capitol buildings and me toward the mentor's quarters. I fight them, but there are so many and they're all stronger than me. They have to literally drag me back to my apartment and force me into the room.

I pace my quarters, wondering where Hiro is. If they're getting him ready for the victory broadcast, or taking care of his wounds, or something I might not want to know about. The Capitol is unpredictable. But I might just be paranoid.

I pace until my energy is gone and I want nothing more than to sleep. But I can't. Tomorrow is Hiro's victory broadcast and I will have to be there, pretending I respect the Capitol and the president of Panem.

Which I don't.

I get around half an hour of sleep before they come to get me for Hiro's victory broadcast. I dress in the typical clothing of a District Three programmer, not their fancy Capitol stuff.

I have to fight to keep my head from drooping during the short train ride there. Hiro is dressed in silver vest, black pants, and a white shirt with a single, circuit-patterned bracelet on his wrist. I wear a full silver suit with an itchy collar.

Cesar sits Hiro down and starts bombarding him with questions about how he won, what his strategy was, why he allied with the daughter of Katniss Everdeen. Hiro stutters his way through the interview, looking thoroughly uncomfortable the whole time.

"So, Hiro, what was going through your mind when you realized you had won?"

Hiro rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't really care. I never wanted to win. I'd rather I died than Meg."

"How sweet." Cesar wipes a fake tear away. "The star-crossed lovers of District Twelve, reborn thirty years later."

Hiro's face falls, and I know he's thinking about Megan. Hiro's seen enough people die. He doesn't need to lose someone else he was close to. Everyone was upset when Cass died, but apart from our mother, Hiro was hit the hardest. He was only six.

Hiro is dismissed after several more questions and we leave the interview room. Hiro exhales loudly as soon as we're out of range of the cameras.

That night, we're on the train back to District Three. Back to Mom and Dad and a normal life.

"Hiro?"

Hiro looks up from the window. "Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you."

"I'd be proud of me too."

I'm taken aback for a second, then say, "You have a point."

Hiro laughs.

The train lurches to a stop and Hiro stands up.

He survived. He won.

And now we're going home.