Shogo Hara, District Four (18)

It wasn't fair to do this to Kanu. I didn't care if I kept getting dragged back over and over just to die again, but it wasn't just me involved. Kanu had a loving family and a stable home. Every few years he had to be told that his father was back and each time it took him longer to picture me as his father and not the Capitolite man who had raised him since he was four. Then he had to wrestle with the conflicted feelings of wanting to see his birth father again and wondering what things would be like if I actually lived this time. A child needs stability. I would rather stay dead and let Kanu move on than let him have this wound ripped open over and over.

Why did they have to bring him back too? I couldn't kill Lyte. I really didn't know if I could. It was bad enough Vera was back. When a voice boomed in from the skies and Lyte was summoned from the Arena I think we all knew what was happening. Right after he left I heard a single quickly-aborted cheer from someone- Vera, no doubt- who couldn't hold in her joy. I was right there with her, silently pumping my fist in the air as I cheered on my little bro.

Politics make strange bedfellows. Perhaps because we knew Chrome and Jayden were allied and systematically sweeping the house, Floki and I made an awkward but earnest friendship when we crossed paths. I learned a lot from Floki about not judging by appearances. One minute we'd be talking strategy and the next he'd be describing what kind of vegetables he wanted in his garden once he settled down. It was eerie to think about how while I was training for the first time he was a little kid running around Four. We might have crossed paths and never even known it.

It was too late when I realized I shouldn't have allied with him. There were only ten people in the Games, minus Des and Keylor who had died in the Bloodbath. Then Lyte left and Shinju died. With six people there was an uncomfortably high chance Floki and I would end up fighting each other. It turned my stomach to think about. Floki wasn't much older than my son. How weird was that? I'd spent decades trying to be a father for my son when the only way to do that was to kill people. I was a real role model.

In the end it was me, Floki, Jayden and Chrome. Somehow we didn't find each other for an entire day. It brought up the image of some kids' cartoon where two characters look for each other and keep missing each other by seconds. As Floki and I barricaded a bedroom to camp out for the night, everything changed.

The cannon made both of us jump. Then there was another. Floki turned his head to look at me. He was met with my knife in his throat. I knew he'd been turning to set up a fair fight. I didn't even think about what I did. His eyes went wide with betrayal and disappointment and I watched as he slid to the floor. It was an ignominious, undeserved ending for a brave Viking warrior. The only thing that could have killed Floki was his own nobility. I knew that and I didn't hesitate.

My boy was so old when I saw him again. Kanu used to have room for only one emotion. Happiness, sadness, anger, they all took over his face completely. But he was guarded when he saw me. I couldn't even read the expression on his agonizingly unfamiliar face. And my little boy was so mature. He talked about anything but the Games. For the rest of my life he never asked me about the Games. And I never talked about them.

It was the greatest blessing of my life, barring only Kanu himself, that Kanu's adopted parents were devoted to nothing but what was right for him. I would have had no hope trying to regain custody from a Capitolite family that had raised him longer than I had but they sat down with me immediately to discuss what was best for Kanu. I didn't want to break up his stability and I started with regular friendly visits. When Kanu independently expressed interest in a family relationship with me his adopted parents and I set up occasional short-term visits. They started to stretch longer and longer and before I knew it they and I were co-parenting.

No matter what I would never get back the time I lost with my son. We would always live with that loss, but sadness is just part of the human condition. Time went on and scars that couldn't disappear did fade. Eventually the time I'd been reunited with Kanu equaled the time I'd been apart from him. Then we overtook it, and at last we left it behind.