Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: And here's our second batch of tributes.

Training Day One – Afternoon
The Nearest Way

Leonardo Choi, 18
District Two

This was exactly what Vester had told him not to do.

Leo shook his head as he sewed a few more stitches into the dummy's leg. He didn't care what Vester had said about getting too comfortable at one station. He had spent the whole morning at the first aid station, and it felt good. It felt – for a moment – like he might be able to do something in the arena to help someone rather than hurt them. That was what he wanted – to help someone, to do some good before the end. That would make it worth it.

Wouldn't it?

"Is anyone sitting here?" a voice asked.

Leo glanced up, surprised, to see one of the younger boys from Nine. That wasn't so surprising in and of itself, of course; Vester had told him that outer-district tributes usually gravitated towards the survival stations on the first day. What was surprising was that there had been someone sitting there not ten minutes before – the same someone, in fact. "I think you were," Leo answered cautiously.

The boy cocked his head. "I was?"

"Yes."

"Huh." The boy plopped down beside him. "I'm Barlen. What's your name?"

"Leo."

"District Nine."

"District Two."

The boy's eyes grew wide. "You're a Career?"

Leo chuckled a little. "No."

"So what're you doing here?"

"No volunteers this year – remember?"

"Really? That's rough. I wonder if someone would've volunteered for me – if they could have, I mean."

Leo couldn't help a smile. "I'm sure they would have."

"Really?"

No. No, he wasn't sure. Because even when volunteers were allowed, so many younger children still ended up in the Games. But there was something about this boy – something a bit off. Would his district really have sent him into the Games if they'd had any sort of say in the matter?

And even if it wasn't true, there was no harm in a little white lie if it helped the boy feel a bit less terrified. "I think someone would have. But I guess we're both here now."

"I guess so." They boy leaned in a little closer. "What're you working on?"

"Suturing a leg wound."

"Wow. Sounds tough."

Leo couldn't help a smile. "Want me to teach you?"

"Really?"

"Why not?" He took two more dummies' legs and made incisions in both, then handed one to Barlen. "All right. Let's start off simple. First thing you want to do is thread this needle. If you don't have a needle, you look for something similar – something sharp and smooth that you can attach the thread to. Maybe a porcupine quill or a spine from a sea urchin or something like that."

"Do you think there will be any of those in the arena?"

"No way of knowing, really," Leo admitted. "But there'll probably be something sharp."

"What if you don't have any thread?"

Leo shrugged. "You've always got thread. Sometimes you just need to look for it." He took the knife and made a small cut in the end of his sleeve, then unraveled a little bit of the thread. "See? Thread."

Barlen smiled, then did the same with his own shirt. As he rolled up his sleeve, Leo caught a glimpse of something – something written on the inside of the boy's wrist.

You're in the Hunger Games.

Barlen Rimmonn, 13
District Nine

You're in the Hunger Games.

Barlen quickly rolled his sleeve back down. No matter how many times he saw the note he'd written for himself, it didn't quite seem real. At least, he assumed it hadn't felt any more real than it did now. Despite everything around him – the training stations, the other tributes, the trainers, the weapons – it was still hard to believe. He'd been chosen for the Hunger Games. He was going to be in the arena.

He was probably going to die.

Tears came to Barlen's eyes at the thought. He couldn't even remember the reaping – not really. He remembered someone – an older boy, he was pretty sure – helping him get to the stage. But aside from that, it was all a blur. How was he supposed to remember what he was doing once he was in the Games?

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Barlen? Are you all right?"

Barlen shook his head. "No. I … I'm sorry. What was your name?"

"Leo."

"And you're … my mentor?" he guessed.

Leo shook his head. "No. I'm another tribute, but I … I'm your friend, Barlen. Your ally, if you'll have me."

Barlen wiped the tears from his eyes. "Really? You mean it?"

"Of course."

Barlen removed the pen from his pocket. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Write that down? Of course not. Go ahead."

Barlen couldn't help a smile as he wrote himself a note, in smaller letters, below his other message. Leo = Friend. "Is that all right?"

Leo nodded. "It's perfect. Now, what do you say we fix up these legs? Got your needle threaded?"

Barlen glanced down at the needle. He didn't remember threading it, but apparently he had. "I guess so."

"Great. Now, you want to hold the skin together like this. Not too tight or anything. You don't want it to bunch up. Just close enough to be touching, and try to keep them on the same level."

"Like this?"

"Exactly like that. Now, it's better if you have some sort of tweezers to hold onto the needle, but chances are, you're not going to have anything like that. So just try to hold it as still as you can."

Right. Just hold it still. That was easy enough when they were practicing on a dummy, but once they were in the arena, if he was actually stitching up another person – or stitching up himself – would he really be able to hold still enough? "What if the other person isn't holding still?" he asked.

"Try to calm them down," Leo answered matter-of-factly. "Not exactly the easiest thing to do, but if you can get them talking about something else – something that has nothing to do with whatever happened to them – that can help. If that doesn't work, you can always try singing."

"Singing?"

"Nothing too rambunctious, of course. Just something soft and soothing. Like a lullaby."

Barlen shook his head. "I … I don't know any lullabies. Not that I remember, at least."

"You could always make one up," Leo offered. "Chances are, no one from another district is going to know the difference."

Barlen nodded a little. "Have you … have you done this before?"

"Plenty. I'm in training to be a nurse."

"Really? I didn't know they had nurses in District Two."

Leo chuckled a little. "You don't really think the whole district is full of Careers just fighting each other for fun all day, do you?"

"I don't know," Barlen admitted. He had always pictured District Two a bit like that. But Leo was different. He was nice.

Barlen just hoped he wouldn't have to kill him.

David Abadi, 14
District Twelve

"I'm glad he found someone."

David glanced up from the plants he was sorting. "Who found someone?"

Ti pointed over towards the first aid station. "Barlen. Looks like he's working with one of the kids from District Two, of all places."

David shrugged. "Not so strange, really. Not with everyone being reaped and all. No Careers, so not everyone from District Two is going to be … well, like they usually are."

"Brutal?" Ti offered. "Bloodthirsty?"

David nodded. "Yeah. Like that. And if he's over at the first aid station, there's probably not much to worry about."

Ti nodded. "True. Still, I'm glad he found an ally."

David threw a few more plants into one of his piles. "I said earlier if you wanted to invite him, it was fine."

Ti shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I didn't mean I wanted him to join us – just that I'm glad he's not going to end up alone. But we made the right choice not inviting him."

We. It had been an easy choice, settling down at one of the knife stations with Ti in the morning. Orphelia had started the day with them, but had quickly branched off on her own, and from the look of things, she probably wasn't coming back. She was over at the spear station along with the older boy from Eleven.

Meanwhile, he and Ti had flitted from station to station ever since, picking up a little bit of this and a little bit of that. There was just so much to do. So many things to try. So many things that could save their lives in the arena, if only they could remember all of it.

Which was the advantage of there being two of them, of course. He wouldn't have to remember everything by himself. And Ti seemed like good company. Not that many of the tributes seemed like bad company, of course – aside from the obvious. The Careers and a few of the older tributes who seemed a bit more intimidating, maybe. But for the most part, the others just seemed … normal.

David threw the last of the plants he was sorting into the second pile – the edible one. At least, he was pretty sure these were the edible ones. He looked up at the trainer, who was watching them curiously. "How'd we do?"

The trainer chuckled a little as Ti finished sorting his own plants. "How do you think you did?"

"I think we got them right," Ti offered immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

The trainer smirked. "Sure enough to bet your life?" She scooped up a handful of berries from Ti's edible pile.

"I…" Ti hesitated, but then seemed to notice that David was watching him. "Of course." He grabbed the handful of berries from the trainer and stuffed them in his mouth. "See?"

The trainer chuckled a little and reached into a bag at her side. "You might want this."

"What's that?"

"It'll keep them from breaking out in some pretty nasty blisters. Just because something won't kill you doesn't mean it's good for you. Try to remember that."

Ti quickly took the medicine she'd offered, washing it down with a glass of water from the fishing station nearby. "Thanks. I will."

The trainer nodded. "I hope so."

Ti Bulgur, 14
District Nine

"I hope you don't do anything like that once you're in the arena."

Ti whirled around in time to see one of the boys from Five watching him. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

The younger boy nodded. "For now. She's right, though. Just because something doesn't kill you doesn't mean it's a good idea. Especially if you're only doing it to impress someone."

"I wasn't trying to impress—" Ti took a step back. What was the boy trying to imply? "I just wanted to see if I was right!"

"And if you'd been wrong?"

"Then I'd be dead." Would he? Would the trainer really have let him eat something poisonous before they were even in the arena? What happened if a tribute accidentally killed themselves during training? He'd never heard of that happening before, but with so many pointy objects around, it wasn't an impossibility.

The younger boy shook his head. "That would bother most people."

Ti shrugged. "I'm not most people." The thought of dying did scare him, of course, but damned if he was going to admit it to this little kid.

"I see."

David took a step between them. "I'm David. This is Ti. And you are…?"

"Retro Liu. District Five."

Ti snorted. "Like that's something to be proud of."

Retro shook his head. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot."

David shrugged. "Hey, no harm done. Want to join us?"

Retro hesitated. "You mean join you at the station, or … or in the arena?"

"Both, if you like," David offered, ignoring Ti's expression. "The more, the merrier."

Great. Just great. Ti had managed to talk David out of inviting Barlen into their group, but now he wanted to invite a cheeky little twelve-year-old? "Look, Retro," Ti started. "I'm sure you're a nice kid, but—"

"I think that should be in the other pile," Retro commented, pointing to one of the roots that David had thrown in the edible pile. "Why don't you ask about that one?"

David turned to the trainer. "This is edible, right?"

The trainer smiled a little and shook her head. "I know it looks a lot like this one." She held up another very similar-looking root. "But there are little bumps here on this kind that give it away. Your friend was right."

He's not our friend. Ti almost said it out loud, but he stopped himself in time. Why didn't he want Retro as an ally? Was it because he was younger than them? Or was it only because he'd shown them up? Having an ally who knew a little bit more about plants than them was a good thing, wasn't it?

Finally, Ti nodded. "All right. You can stay."

David clapped Ti on the back. "That's the spirit."

Ti turned to Retro. "So where'd you learn so much about plants in District Five?"

"In school."

"They teach you about plants in school?" He couldn't remember learning anything about what was edible or not in school.

Retro nodded. "Not until recently, but once we started training Careers, they figured school was a good way to work in some of the things that might not be taught while they're fighting at the academy. A bit about plants, a bit about survival. Not much, compared to what the Careers probably know, but enough to be useful."

Enough to be useful. He was trying to make a case for being allowed to join the group. Ti nodded, clapping his new ally on the back.

"Let's hope it's as useful once we're in the Games."

Merrik Haims, 15
District Three

He hoped he wouldn't be as jittery once he was actually in the Games.

Merrik shook his head as he put the finishing touches on a snare, his hands still shaking nervously. What were the chances that he would actually be more relaxed in an arena where everything and everyone was trying to kill him? No, it was probably better to get used to being nervous now, when it wouldn't literally kill him to freak out a little.

"Think it's ready?" the trainer asked, and Merrik nodded. The trainer stepped a little to the right, which should have sprung the trap. Nothing.

Another step, then another. "Damn it," Merrik muttered.

"That wire's too loose," came a voice from the other side of the station. A girl pointed to the wire closest to his left hand. "Pull that a little tighter, and maybe try looping it around – yeah, there you go. Try it now."

The trainer nodded a little as Merrik reset the trap. "That should do it." He took another step, and this time, a net came tumbling down on top of his head. "Nice."

"Thanks," Merrik mumbled as the girl came over to join him, helping the trainer remove himself from the trap in the process.

"Not a problem." She held out her hand. "I'm Lena."

"Merrik." He shook her hand as quickly as he could, hoping to hide the fact that his hands were still trembling.

"Is anyone else working here? Besides you, I mean. I mean, is it okay if I join you?"

Merrik shook his head. "No one else is here, no."

"Great. I mean, it's not great that you're working alone, but … glad I can join you."

Merrik sighed. "Why don't you just ask?"

"Pardon?"

"Look, there are two ways this goes. We sit here and you try to make small talk until you work up the guts to ask if I want to be your ally, and we waste a bunch of time beating around the bush. Or you just ask and get it over with."

Lena flushed. "Was I that obvious?"

"You've been watching people at this station all day. I'm the first one you've come over and talked to. So … yes. It was pretty obvious." He shook his head. "But the answer is yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll be your ally, if that's what you want. And you wouldn't be asking if it wasn't what you wanted, so … yes."

Lena giggled a little. "Just like that?"

"Why not? You clearly know enough to help me out a bit with this trap. That has to count for something, right?" He studied her for a moment. "But why me?"

"What?"

"Well, like I said, you've been watching people at this station all day, but I'm the first one you've actually talked to. So why'd you pick me?"

Lena settled down next to him. "You've been sitting here at this same station all day, trying to make sure you get it right. Everyone else – they're trying to snatch up a little bit of everything that they can, make sure they get it all in. You're more worried about getting everything right." She smiled.

"I like that."

Lena Khatri, 16
District Six

She couldn't help wondering if he could tell it was a lie.

Lena glanced up at Merrik occasionally as the two of them continued to work. It wasn't an outright lie, maybe, but it was only partly true. The fact that he seemed so determined to get things right instead of doing them fast was part of the reason she'd come over to talk to him. But it wasn't the only reason. The real reason was a bit more embarrassing than that: he wasn't as intimidating as some of the other options.

A lot of the other tributes who had stopped at the station already had an ally or two. One of the Career groups had even come by. Merrik, on the other hand, had been alone until she'd taken it upon herself to join him. It was nearly the end of the first day of training, and he hadn't seemed particularly interested in finding anyone to work with. Which either meant that he'd decided to go it alone, or that he was waiting for someone to ask him, instead.

And if he was waiting for someone to ask him rather than the other way around, that meant he was more likely to say yes to whoever did happen to ask him. She certainly didn't want to waste her time seeking out an alliance with someone who was just going to turn her down. And when she'd noticed he needed a little help...

That had been the deciding factor, really. He'd needed a little help. A little nudge. Something in the back of her mind had tried to tell her that this was exactly what her mentors would tell her not to do. But it wasn't as if he'd had no idea what he was doing at all. He'd just needed help with a few of the details to get it right. There was nothing wrong with that. Everyone needed a little help now and then.

Especially her, if she wanted to make it out of the Games alive. She was going to need help, and Merrik … He seemed like someone who would be willing to pitch in and lend a hand. Maybe not someone who would be tremendously useful in a physical fight, but neither was she. There was no way she was going to win this thing by brute force. But maybe she could think her way through it.

"Lena?"

Lena looked up, startled. "What?"

"That was the bell," Merrik answered. "It's the end of training – for today, at least. See you back here tomorrow?"

Lena nodded. "Count on it." The other tributes were already starting to file out of the training room and back to their separate floors for dinner. Lena couldn't help a smile at the thought of another Capitol dinner. Whatever she might not like about the Capitol, she couldn't complain about their food.

Merrik raised an eyebrow. "What are you smiling for?"

"Just looking forward to dinner tonight. You?"

Merrik shook his head. "I guess that's something."

Lena nodded. "Of course it's something. It's called the Hunger Games, after all. Might as well eat as much food as we can now, while it's still an option." She clapped him on the back as she headed for the elevator. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Things were already beginning to look a little better.

"Yet do I fear thy nature; it is too full o' the milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way."