Training, Day 1, Part 2


The room was too cold.

Mati shivered in his short sleeves, fumbling for the fourth time the knot he was trying to tie. He hadn't ever had the chance to experience and adjust to air-conditioned buildings; back in Nine, he'd just turn on the fan and open the window. He gritted his teeth and started at it again. He'd worked through the stuffy, putrid heat of a factory in District Nine summer; he wouldn't let a little air conditioning throw him off.

It was more than the physical freeze that left him shivering. He glanced across the room to where Clarke was. She wasn't looking at him; she hadn't spoken to him since the incident on the chariots. If anything, she now did her best to ignore him—and he wasn't about to go looking for trouble.

But why then did it feel like she was always glaring at him? When he had sat down with Rusk after dinner last night, his new mentor had told him to try his best to ignore her, that worrying about her would only distract him from getting the most out of the training days he desperately needed. Rusk was right. It was a waste of time to fret about it.

But that didn't change the fact that Clarke hated him, and she would hate him until one or both of them died. That knowledge wrapped around his heart and squeezed it until it hurt. He didn't want her to hate him, as every glare made him wither. He didn't want her to die, though she couldn't say the same for him. But he didn't want to die himself, either.

And why did Vannes switch with Rusk? What had he done wrong?

The knot slipped from his hands. If only they would turn up the temperature. Maybe he would come back tomorrow with a jacket and try the knots again then since he evidently couldn't handle it today.

As he rose and moved over to the edible plants, he noticed the Six boy watching him from the fire-starting station. Thomas, if he remembered correctly from the Reaping Recaps. The boy's stare sent a chill down his spine. Back in Nine, being watched was never a good thing, whether by suspicious Peacekeepers or, even worse, violent rebels. It meant that you were under suspicion, and suspicion usually led to some kind of violence.

He smiled back. If the boy had a problem with him, he hoped the smile would appease him, at least a little bit.

Compared to the knots, the edible plants station was more of a review than anything. Though he lived in the city as a refugee of natural disaster, his years out in the country had taught him what weeds to eat, and which ones to avoid. He did notice, however, the abundance of sharp plants in the books provided, from pampas grasses and their serrated blades to barrel cactus and the unnerving spines. He grabbed a different book, just to be sure. Sure enough, a good portion was dedicated to the very same plants. It might have been a little early to tell, but it couldn't hurt to keep it in mind.

"Hey!" a soft voice said from the next table over. The Eleven girl waved at him.

He waved back uncertainly. Did he do something wrong? "Oh, hey."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Now he was convinced he did something wrong. "…Why?"

She smiled at him. "If you want, you could come sit here."

"I'm fine," he said, though it was more instinct than anything. Very few people genuinely meant the polite things they said. But then her face fell, and he felt bad. He hadn't meant to disappoint her. "Actually… I think I might take you up on that."

Almost immediately, she perked up again. "Great!"

He picked up his books and settled down at her table with a nervous smile. This was the sixth new person he was meeting since the Reaping, and the previous five encounters hadn't gone well. It didn't surprise him. He wasn't exactly a charismatic figure.

"So, what's your name?" the girl asked. "I'm Yggdrasil, but everyone calls me Iggy."

"I'm Mati, from District Nine; nice to meet you. Are you from Eleven?"

She nodded. "But… I don't know my edible plants too well."

"At least we're learning now."

He rubbed his neck. Was he doing well enough? He hoped so. But now she just waited with a warm smile, and he wasn't sure what she could be waiting for. He must've missed a social cue. He hoped she wasn't wondering why this strange boy from Nine acted so awkwardly.

"So…" he said, grabbing for things that could complete the statement. "What did you ask again?"

"What? I didn't ask anything."

"Oh! Sorry—"

"I was just listening, but…" Realization dawned on her face. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'm just used to listening to Mother Tree and I forget…"

"No worries." He gave her a reassuring smile. He hadn't ever heard of a "Mother Tree," but he wasn't about to ask and make everything worse than he'd already make it. Now the poor girl was flustered. But if she was waiting for him to speak and he was waiting for her to speak…

"Thanks for inviting me over to sit," he said. Hopefully, it would make her feel better while filling the silence. .

"Of course!" she said and beamed at him, as if it were the most obvious thing to do. "It felt like you were sad, and it's nice to have nice people around when you're sad."

Maybe not all attention was bad, though this meant his own worries had bothered someone else, something he actively avoided. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a funny look. "Why?"

"For bothering you."

"You're not bothering me. How did you bother me?"

"I didn't?"

"You're nice!"

"You barely know me."

"But your…" She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. "Your energy is very nice. Soothing, almost."

He didn't know what she was sensing, but he definitely didn't sense it himself. Far too many people had decided that he was not nice. They couldn't all be wrong. Poor girl; the Games were about to eat her alive. He felt a sudden need to protect her, though he was the least qualified one to do it in the entire room. He'd probably bring her some kind of bad luck.

"You're very kind," he said. "Have you been alone this whole time?"

"Ellis from District Eight was here earlier, but he's talking with the boy from District Five right now." She pointed over at shelter-making. It was immediately obvious which one Ellis was, with his confident posture and sunshine aura.

Mati straightened his shoulders, but he only had rainclouds over his head. "He seems like an awesome guy."

"Yeah, he's really nice too." She sighed. "I'm not… choosing any allies yet, though."

"It could be good to have help."

"But if they have to die…"

Though the words came out of her very mouth, it couldn't have been her speaking, not with her wide-eyed kindness. Someone must've told her this somewhere up the line, and she'd soaked it up. But it made sense. No matter how much the thought didn't sit right in his gut, it made too much sense to ignore. Finding allies would be asking for a world of extra pain if he wasn't emotionally detached enough to keep his distance—which he wasn't.

At any rate, this wouldn't apply to him. It didn't matter whether he wanted allies or not if they always had better options than him.


"Gracias." Nevaeh said as the Avox handed her her lunch tray, piled high with seafood and rare delicacies she'd never seen before in her life. It barely registered that she'd said it. Papá had raised her to be respectful. Any mal bicho could yell and threaten to get what they wanted, but ain't nobody was going to look at her and treat her like a common drug dealer.

As she approached the long, rectangular table where the other seven sat, she breathed deeply of her food and sighed in contentment. The whirlwind of the morning left her electrified and starving, but she loved the adrenaline high. Plus, with all this good food, any appetite stimulant was good. Things wouldn't be so pleasant in the Hunger Games.

She hoped the caliente lollipops in her pocket hadn't completely melted. She had no intention of dying in the Arena, and if it meant dropping the guard of her allies to make them less threatening to her, so be it. Those officials back home thought they could control her and her papá by coercing her into the Hunger Games. They could suck it. The daughter of widely-feared Gabriel Jimenez wouldn't be a pushover.

"No me digas! What a feast!" she said, dropping the tray on the table. She sat in the empty corner seat, Sos on her left and Ilithyia across from her. Eros was at Ilithyia' right, and the Sevens and Ones were at the other side of the table. Everyone but Eros had plates piled high. "Qué onda? You not hungry?"

He shrugged, eating another forkful of salad greens. "No cheat days for me."

"Come on!" Ilithyia slapped him on the back. "We're in the Capitol. It can't hurt your pretty face to have some fun, if that's what you're worried about."

That was one way to put it, though Nevaeh's biggest concern wasn't her weight—it was the imminent reality of the Games. That was the one thing she couldn't understand about the tributes from One and Two. How could they treat the Games as something desirable? She looked at Sos and found the very same concern in his eyes. No matter how much they had in common with the Twos, there'd always be an underlying, irreconcilable difference.

Ilithyia took a fried chicken wing and moved it to Eros' plate, which he begrudgingly accepted. "There, enjoy it. It's protein anyway."

Sos chuckled. The sound rang of the District Ten countryside, hearty and strong. Nevaeh had always been more of a city girl herself—what would she do without the street food?—yet here in the Capitol, it was the sound of home. For her to actually get home, she'd have to lose him, though he was possibly the nicest person she'd met in a long time. Any other year, she would've rooted for him from the comfort of her fashion boutique, but she was here in the Capitol with him and she wasn't afforded that privilege. She hoped he'd end up in third place. Killing him wouldn't be easy.

"Oh!" Ilithyia said, suddenly staring at Nevaeh. Her eyes shone with unbridled excitement. "Didn't you say you had a surprise? From District Ten?"

"You got it!" Nevaeh winked at her and pulled the lollipops from her pocket. "These candies have classic District Ten flavors."

Ilithyia's jaw dropped. "Oh. My. Gosh… How… What…"

"I have my methods."

She picked up a candy and gingerly inspected its wrapper. "It's really red… What flavor is it? Strawberry?"

Nevaeh held in a giggle. She extended one to Eros—everyone had to get in on the fun. But that pobrecita, expecting it to be strawberry! "Try it!"

Unable to decipher the packaging, Ilithyia tore the packaging and plopped the entire red candy in her mouth, while Eros held it in his hand, watching her. Her eyes widened. "Woah. I was not expecting that."

"Is it good?" Eros asked.

Ilithyia gave her the look, and Nevaeh had to bite her lip to hold in her snicker. The girl's lip quivered, but she didn't break her straight face. "Just hurry up and try it!"

He followed suit. He'd barely had a chance to close his mouth before he was panting for water. "Gosh! That's spicy!"

Nevaeh and Sostonio burst out laughing, as did Ilithyia, who nearly choked on the water she was guzzling down.

"Your face! I wish we had a camera!" Nevaeh said.

"Right?" Ilithyia said, swallowing the last bit of her candy. "By Snow, that is hot, but…" She reached for another one. "I kinda like it."

Eros gave her an incredulous look.

"Spice ain't your thing?" Sos asked. "We add spice to everything, but it's a lot if you ain't used to it."

"Not my thing." He shook his head, face burning red. Whether it was the spice or embarrassment, Nevaeh couldn't tell.

As Ilithyia popped another one into her mouth, wincing again at the initial rush of spice, Nevaeh grinned from ear to ear. It was always fun to connect with someone new. Plus, there was the added plus of making these two less likely to stab her in the back once the Games began. Using just a few candies, she now felt a lot more in control of the days to come, even if the entire "killing is my life goal" thing still unnerved her.

"So," she said, resting an elbow on the table and playing with her ponytail unassumingly. During the moment of quietness, Sos had turned to chat with Ven on his left, leaving her and the Twos. "Tell me about Two. What's it like?"

Ilithyia broke into a huge smile. "Two is…" She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Alive. We have mountains and woods for camping, rivers for kayaking, rapids for rafting, malls for shopping—"

"Though One has nicer malls," Eros added.

"Yeah, One is so pretty. But everything there feels… organized. I love District Two because it's wild too. What about Ten?"

Nevaeh smiled. She liked someone that wasn't afraid of a little wild, something Sos struggled with. This girl clearly enjoyed the feelings of simply experiencing, and Nevaeh was happy to oblige.

"Ten is… big. More than big. It's grande. You could go out to the wilderness and see nothing but grasses and bushes in every direction. And then you look up at the cielo that just goes on forever."

At some point, Ilithyia had closed her eyes again, resting abnormally still. "Do you do that a lot?"

She chuckled. "Nah. I'm a city girl. I live in the world of mariachis and street marquetas and Capitalino tourists."

"It sounds nice."

"Es mi tierra." She sighed. No matter how much she loved talking about home, it was making her far too sentimental for the Hunger Games. She had to switch up the conversation before she got too attached. "Why do y'all train?"

Ilithyia opened her eyes, looking a little disappointed. But she brightened up immediately. "Officially, it's something about honor yadda yadda yadda."

"And you?"

"Not gonna lie, I started training because it looked fun and all my friends were doing it," she said, playing with the handmade bracelet on her wrist. "But the Games seemed exciting, so I thought I'd give it a serious shot. I was top of my class, and… Now I'm here."

The District Two way of training still didn't make any sense, but Nevaeh figured it wouldn't do to pry. "That's a cute bracelet."

"You like it? My best friend made it for me. I made one for her too." She held up her arm to show off the trinket, which had "Friends 4ever" hand-lettered on the side. Messy, but cute. "I love the Capitol, but I miss her so much."

Nevaeh gulped. This girl talking about her loved ones… it felt so real. She herself had volunteered for Papá's sake, after all. Two and Ten felt like separate worlds, from their food to their landscapes to their reasons for training, but she wasn't all that different from the girl sitting across from her.

Yet she still had to win. Staying unattached was getting harder by the moment.


"So, where do you wanna go?"

Adora looked at Eros and fixed a dainty smile on her face, calculating a response. Lunch had just ended, and they'd mixed up the pairs for "team bonding" purposes, as Ilithyia had put it. The girls from Two and Ten seemed to have taken leadership of the group, but Adora couldn't say she minded. Her years of watching District One's political landscape has shown her that those at the top also fall the hardest. She didn't need any more people gunning for her than necessary.

From the periphery of her vision, she watched his every movement. She'd spent the morning with Sostonio. Now it was time to figure out this next boy. It would be wonderful if he turned out to be a good companion, but based on his ever-present smile… but her hopes weren't high. No one that smiled that much was ever trustworthy.

"I don't know—there are so many options!" She giggled. The unnatural sound came naturally, even after a morning of acting. At this point, it might as well be considered natural. "You choose."

He pursed his lips. "Would you prefer… the ranged weapons targets or the poisons?"

Interesting choices. The ranged weapons station was a given since she'd done enough information-gathering to know that Eros Worshire of District Two preferred the spear, but… poison? She filed the information away for consideration later. Or perhaps she could chase this line of inquiry right now.

"Hmm… Let's try the poisons."

He beamed at her and led the way to the station, located in the corner near the bathrooms. A couple of books sat on the table, while a few screens with interactive simulations hung on the wall.

"For you, milady." He extended a booklet to her, titled Poisonous Plants.

She giggled again and riffled through it, eyes alighting on a few familiar names. Ricinus communis. Conium maculatum. Cnidoscolus texanus. Poisons had been an elective class back in the Academy, one she had chosen to take instead of more athletics since she hadn't intended to volunteer for the Hunger Games.

"My goodness, all those big scientific names!" she said. Dumb blonde from District One was an easy enough show to pull off, one that wouldn't invite too many questions. "Do you know a lot about poisons?" It was a risky move to ask so boldly, but her persona should be enough to excuse a few more questions than normal.

"Let me see." He took the booklet from her and flipped through a few pages. "Nah. Not a clue what kuh-nido-sco-lus texa-nus is."

Cnidoscolus texanus. Bull Nettle. Was he genuinely clueless, or was this a ploy on his part too? She'd have to ask Ilithyia about non-physical training in District Two; that girl wouldn't think twice. Though now that she thought about it, she never had to think twice with Sostonio earlier in the morning. Both of those two exuded such authenticity that even paranoid ol' Adora, jaded by politics, could take what they said at face value.

But this boy… not so much. He looked up from the book and beamed at her. "Between your brain and mine, I think we got this."

"Are you sure? There's a lot here."

He winked at her, flashing his signature smile. That cursedly charming smile. "We won't know unless we try, right?"

As much as she wanted to believe him, she knew better than to let her guard down. He'd worm his way into her sympathies and then tear her down from within, taking advantage of her to reach his own goals without any concern for her or the destruction he left behind.

Her father was the same way.

Was it presumptuous to draw a conclusion so quickly? Only if she didn't have enough evidence to justify the hypothesis, and his terribly familiar feel was evidence enough. It set her on edge.

The two started from the beginning of the booklet, immediately opening up to a large spread depicting none other than a pepper plant.

"I didn't realize peppers were poisonous," she said.

"Maybe Arena peppers will be different." He frowned. "That's gonna suck. I love spicy food."

She didn't mind spice herself, but she scrunched up her face. "I can't take much spice."

He chuckled, with hints of sympathy and reassuring friendliness that he undoubtedly lacked. Just like her father. "This is boring. Wanna look at the simulations instead?"

"I'll take a bit more time with the book, but I'll catch up in a bit."

"See? You're more studious than I am."

She smiled bashfully and covered her mouth. "Aw… Thanks."

Once he had his back to her, she turned to the book and let the corners of her lips droop, just a little. Her facial muscles strained under the smile she'd held since breakfast. Here in this corner of the room, face hidden by the book, she could rest for a moment. Just like at home, when she retreated from her father's lavish parties to a dark back room to catch her breath and remember what being herself felt like, amidst the crowds of people that couldn't care less whether she lived or died as long as she did what they wanted.

She had complied. Every time. She gave up her childhood dreams to attend the Academy under her father's wishes, for the sole purpose of making "friends" that he could then use to get to their parents. She gave up her ideas of a romantic life to an arranged marriage with Valor Miliken, and then she gave up that arranged marriage for the Hunger Games to save her father's political career.

She glanced back at Eros. Coming to the Capitol hadn't changed anything, not with people like him running around. She suspected the same for Adair, though she hadn't spent enough time with him to test that theory. Such was human nature, to manipulate, twist, and dominate.

But why did she feel disappointed? Had she dared to hope that people outside of her toxic climate back home might be different?

What an idiot she was.

So she'd smile and wave, pose for the cameras, grit her teeth and play the game, just like she always did. If she played it well enough, perhaps she might find freedom, for the first time in her life. She'd be allowed to do what she wanted, whatever made her happy. What a strange idea.

She didn't want to hope. There wasn't enough good in the world for it.


Adair sauntered out of the bathroom, whistling a mountain tune under his breath. Wasn't life good? He thought so. Good lodging, good eating, good training facilities—what else could a man hope for? He didn't mind living like a king, even if it were just for a few days before the Capitol shipped 'em all off to the Hunger Games.

At any rate, he had no intention of only having it for a few days. He'd come back, luck-willing or not. He hadn't lived his whole life for nothing, with the bandits and brawling, hitmen and hitch-hiking. Though, to be perfectly honest, the Games seemed rather exciting in their own right. Not 'cause killin' was any fun, but 'cause this was such a gamble. High risk; high reward, ain't it?

"That's gonna suck. I love spicy food."

On his way back to the throwing knives, where he'd left Nevaeh, a familiar voice caught his attention.

Eros, huh? The boy and Adora were hunched over a book at the poisons station. He'd have to take any food they prepared in the Arena with special caution now, but even more intriguing was Eros' supposed love of spice. He figured Adora wouldn't have picked up on it since the Ones and Sevens had been involved in their own conversation over lunch, but he'd kept an eye on the Twos and Tens the entire time, even through their lollipop debacle. Last he checked, spice "wasn't his thing." The kid must've faked a reaction for attention and affection.

Adair chuckled. What a try-hard. Real skill didn't require sucking up.

But this was a competition now, more than simply a matter of being the last one alive in a week. If Eros wanted to play the manipulation game, Adair would too, and he wouldn't have to resort to self-deprecation and pleading eyes. That rich boy from Two had no idea what he was up against.

Oh, how he loved a good competition!

He found Nevaeh still throwing knives when he returned. A persistent girl, he supposed, one clearly skilled in her craft. But though it had only been an hour or so since lunch, the idea was starting to bore him. Hurling pointy objects at a distant target could only stay interesting for so long. Time to shake things up. Why not forge a "connection" while they were at it?

"You a bettin' woman?" he asked.

She cocked her head, appraising him. "Igual y sí. Depends on the bet."

"Three knives each. Loser swims a lap in the pool, clothes on."

"Clothes on?"

"That's the punishment part." He chuckled. "Clothes off would be flexin' on the rest of 'em."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Sure. You go first."

"My pleasure." He twirled the knife, stepped up to the line, and raised his arm into position. The target stood eighteen feet down the lane, with a black bullseye ringed with red and white. "You ready?"

She raised her eyebrows, an amused twinkle in her eye. "What are you waiting for? Throw it."

Evaluate, aim, fire. Or throw. Either way, the knife lodged itself off-center in the bullseye. Not bad for an opening throw. "Your move."

A subdued pause settled as she aimed, suddenly silent in competitive determination, before she broke it with a grunt and the knife left her hand. It stuck dead center. "Hmm. Not bad."

"I see." He hadn't expected her aim to be that accurate. Evidently, the girl hadn't been trying as hard earlier. He narrowed his eyes, this time taking a moment to realign and re-aim. It paid off. His second knife struck bullseye, comparable to hers.

She didn't even flinch as she grabbed a second one. With her eyes dead set on the target, she released her second knife with the same grunt as before. It missed her first throw by a hair. She was now ahead of him.

This wouldn't be no problem. Improvise, adapt, overcome, just like he always had. Before he threw it, he paused to look at Nevaeh.

She smirked. "Got fear, ey?"

"Ain't got no fear," he said with a relaxed grin. Eyes still on her, he snapped his hand down and let the knife fly. It was a risky move, but it would pay off if it worked.

He waited for the sound of impact before he turned away to see. It had landed in the red ring right 'round the bullseye. Not quite as accurate, but it was her move now.

"Vale." She nodded slowly but showed no other sign of fear. This girl didn't shake easily. Take him up and up the challenge, or settle for the easy win?

After a deep breath and likely consideration too, she swept a knife off the ground and hurled it at the target in one fluid motion, without pausing even so much to aim. All the same, the knife struck the red ring, a bit further out from where he'd struck.

An even game. Maybe he hadn't won, but at least he hadn't lost. What a relief—a thought he refused to show on his features. "Good match."

"So we don't swim?"

"Or we both swim."

"I'll race you!" She grinned, turned heel, and ran for the pool, her bubbling laugh trailing behind her.

"Oh, come on!"

Though he took off after her lickety-split, it was no use. She'd already gotten a head start down the lane by the time he dove into the pool, shoes and all.

Oh well. 'Ya win some; 'ya lose some. Or in his case, he'd always win, and any losses eventually would lead to a win. Not finding any lodging in the city had brought him to the Training Center, hadn't it? And Nevaeh's little "victory" on her way to the pool would make her a little more friendly and less threatening to him, wouldn't it? Surely drawing the short straw to end up volunteering would only propel him to new heights of Hunger Games victory. Ain't nobody ever been like him before.

But for now, he'd just enjoy splashing and kicking his way through the chlorinated water. He wouldn't have much time for enjoyment in the Games—

On second thought, all the exciting gambles sure to come sent a rush through his veins. Oh, the thrill of the fight!


A/N Hooray for faster updates! I think I'm finally settling into a system that works for me. Let's hope that the next updates come just as quickly too.

I'd love to know y'all's thoughts!