We spend most of the next day scouring the woods for Katniss, Lover Boy and the girl from Five.

It's not until we hear the cannon that we finally pick up their trail. Cato leads the way through the underbrush, convinced they have to be somewhere near.

After a short walk, we come across Five's dead body. She's lying motionless on the ground, without any visible wounds. But her hand is filled with the sort of berries I would recognize everywhere: nightlock.

Only two more to go, I think to myself while I look into her lifeless eyes.

Unbelievable how stupid she's been. How can you happen to eat nightlock when you're so close to victory? What a tragic twist of fate. But that's how it goes if you don't watch out. Seeing the nightlock in her pale hand reminds me that we're still in the Hunger Games; that it isn't over yet. We still have to be careful, and patient.

Nevertheless, the death of Five is a benefit for Cato and me. After everything that happened, the odds finally seem to be in our favor.

Suddenly, I hear Katniss' desperate voice screaming "Peeta!" and I lock eyes with Cato. We're both quiet for a moment, listening intensely. Leaves are rumbling somewhere in front of us, and I think I can make out steps; quick steps, muted by the soft forest floor. Katniss has to be within spitting distance…

I just can't see her anywhere.

Cato grabs my arms and points at a spot only a few feet away, behind a group of massive trees. Their foliage is so thick that I can't see anything at first. Then I bend forward and spot a clearing, hidden quite well behind that leafy undergrowth. In the middle of the clearing, a jacket is outspread on the forest floor. That's all; Katniss is still nowhere to be seen.

Cato gestures for me to be quiet and pulls me out onto the clearing. I see a small pile of berries on the jacket, obviously nightlock, and I understand that the girl from Five has probably stolen hers from this pile. So if the berries actually belong to Katniss and Lover Boy, he might be about to eat them, right?

In this moment, Katniss' relieved voice is reaching my ears. She must've found him. And we will find her, now that she's given away her location.

I look at Cato to see if he thinks the same. He nods in the direction of Katniss' voice and grabs my wrist. Follow me, his gray eyes seem to say. Then he starts running and I stumble after him, already pulling out a knife from my belt for the upcoming fight.

The last fight of these Games. The last fight that separates us from victory. The memorable moment has finally come.

I follow Cato through thicket and shrubbery until we come to a stop. Then I grip my knife even tighter and step out from behind his back.

Katniss and Lover Boy are right in front of us, their bodies intertwined in a close hug. For a split second, I'm too startled to react. The sight of these two is somehow bringing back my own feelings, my feelings for Cato that I've never been able to show. If Cato knew, would he hold me like that? Would he play with my hair as tenderly as Lover Boy does? Would I huddle against his chest like Katniss? I wonder if I will ever be able to tell him about my feelings, but honestly, I doubt it.

All at once, Lover Boy raises his head and looks straight at Cato and me. Cato gives him a triumphant smile before he dashes his sword at him. It hits Lover Boy right into the chest. At the same time, I hurl my knife into Katniss' throat. They fall into each other's arms and sink to the ground, both immediately dead.

I would never have thought it would be so simple. This was supposed to be the final battle, and yet it wasn't even a real battle. Katniss and Lover Boy didn't get the chance to fight back. We killed them in the blink of an eye. Somehow, I just don't get it: How could it be that easy? As easy as stealing a lolly from an infant, Cato would say. Where's the trouble, the fight, the action? Where is everything that's making the Games so exciting to the Capitol citizens?

My mind is occupied with what has just happened. I just can't believe it; but there they are, the dead bodies of our last opponents. Cato and I are the only tributes still alive. That means we've won. With the simple act of throwing a knife into somebody's throat, I've won. Is this really happening? After all the pain I've seen in the arena, after everything I saw and everything I expected to see, this is the end? Have I trained my whole life for this simple moment? Is this how victory feels?

I didn't think victory was so full of doubts. But it is, obviously.

An hovercraft arrives to collect the dead bodies to our feet. I watch it disappear in the clouds, following it with my eyes but seeing nothing at all.

After we've been silent for a while, Cato shrugs and says: "So that's it. We're done."

I nod, even though it doesn't feel right.

We're done, that's not what you're supposed to say when you've won the Hunger Games. As a child, I used to think something like that when I was done washing the dishes. I would be relieved and think: Yeah, you're done; finally!

But that's nothing compared to my current situation. So why don't I feel any different?

"Cato", I begin, but he interrupts me.

"We can go home", he says. "We've won!"

"Cato –"

"We'll go home", he repeats like an insane. "We will go home, Clove; can you believe it?"

His voice sounds so full of euphoria that I don't want to destroy the atmosphere now. This moment is supposed to be perfect, so why am I still in doubt? This is victory! Glorious victory, dream of my past life and guarantor for my future one – a life in fame and fortune. The life I've always wanted for my family and me. I remember the reaping, when I felt so overly happy because I got the chance to fight for that life, and now that I'm actually going to get it, I hang the head? No way.

Cato is right: We are the only ones left. We did it. The Gamemakers have no choice but to crown us the victors of these Games. They have to observe their own rules, don't they?

I put a smile on my face and look at Cato. Seconds later, I'm in his arms.

Images of Katniss and Peeta appear in my mind; the way they were holding each other, the way they were so grateful to have each other, to be still alive, to be together. Lying in Cato's arms actually feels a bit like that, but I have to remind myself that I'm not the reason for his happiness.

We're hugging each other as the deadly Careers from District Two; the victors of the 74th Hunger Games. We're nothing but a team. There are no feelings involved. At least Cato doesn't feel anything, that's for sure.

"Clove", he whispers into my ear, making it really hard for me to believe in his insensibility. "Do you know what that means?"

"What?" I whisper back.

"It means that I'm gonna have a huge party!" Cato exclaims, and suddenly I am lifted in the air – not violently, like Thresh did, but joyfully, effusively, and I laugh as we start to spin around and around, my hands clasping Cato's shoulders for support.

That's more like I expected to feel as a victor. Happy and free and without any sorrow.

"Attention, tributes!" Claudius Templesmith's voice booms through the arena.

Cato immediately sets me down. We're staring into each other's eyes in anticipation of his announcement, the announcement of our victory. We'll be officially presented as victors in front of the whole Capitol.

It must've been the absence of this announcement that caused my insecurity. I'm not able to feel like a true victor until I've been presented as such. The Gamemakers create the board, they start the Games, they control their course and they decide when it's over. Only the Gamemakers can make you a victor. You have only won if they say you have.

And now it's going to happen. I already hear Claudius Templesmith say: "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the victors of our 74th Hunger Games: From District Two, Cato and Clove!"

That's what everybody's waiting for. He's just delaying it to build up tension, and when he finally says it, the tension is going to explode into a mass of elation, applause, jubilance. The Capitol citizens will be partying all night in honor of Cato and me. We'll be the center of everything. For a few seconds, when Claudius Templesmith presents us as the victors, we will be the center of Panem, the most important people, more important than President Snow even. This is going to be our moment.

"The former rule change has been canceled. The rule that two tributes can win if they originate from the same District does no longer exist. There can be only one victor."

I let the words sink in. After a small pause, Claudius Templesmith adds solemnly: "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

It's quiet again. There's the wind rustling through the treetops, the birds singing their lonely song. It comes back as a hundredfold echo, and I know the birds must be mockingjays.

"No", I hear Cato say next to me. He clenches his fist. "They can't do that. That's perverse."

I shrug. "It's like before. One of us has to kill the other. That's how it was supposed to be."

"Okay, then. Kill me."

"Cato, I –"

"Go ahead!" he yells.

I notice that his sword was taken away with the hovercraft. He doesn't have any more weapons, whereas I have my knives. Still, I don't plan on using them. I unfastened my belt and drop it to the ground, the blades clanking mechanically.

"I'm not doing this", I point out, a bitter edge to my voice. "You kill me."

"Am I supposed to strangle you with my hands?" Cato laughs. "No way."

I sigh. "Why are they doing that to us? What did we do wrong?"

"I know the reason", Cato says.

In the following minutes, many things happen at the same time.

It starts with Cato coming closer until we're only inches apart; a look of melancholy and desperation in his eyes. I have the impression that he stares right through me, right into me, into my heart. Then he opens his mouth and whispers: "It's my fault. They're doing this because I haven't been good enough at hiding…"

"Hiding what?" I reply, confused by his mysterious explanation.

"I've tried to ignore you and distract myself with Glimmer", Cato goes on. "I didn't want them to know because I knew they would use it against me – against the both of us. I was afraid they would hurt you, so I've been extra cautious not to reveal anything, but it didn't work. They know everything."

I look at Cato in exasperation. I don't understand what he's talking about; all I know is that I've never heard him talk so full of hatred, so it has to be something serious.

Cato returns my look and remarks my lack of understanding. "I'm sorry", he says, shaking his head. "I don't know how to explain this to you, Clove. I've been an idiot."

"Yeah, well, that's probably true." I smile uncertainly, but he doesn't even seem to notice.

"I'm serious", Cato says. "I behaved like a complete idiot, so it's okay if you don't want to hear my apology. It's okay if you don't believe me. This is what I promised to tell you when we're home, Clove."

"Then tell me", I press. "You promised it."

He nods. "I did. And I'll keep that promise. So…"

Hell, why does he act so double-mindedly? He's fumbling with his fingers as if he was actually nervous. But I know Cato. It's impossible for him to be nervous, anxious or any other kind of uncertain feeling. He is always strong and straight-forward, no matter what's happening. That's the way he is. And one of the numerous things I like about him.

"So?" I arch an eyebrow at Cato.

He takes a deep breath. "So I've been an idiot on purpose. I've never liked Glimmer, and I never meant to be rude to you, but I had to do it because it was the only way to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" I ask.

"Them." Cato shoots an angry look at the sky, and I understand that he's talking about the Gamemakers.

"But why would they want to hurt me? I mean, what has that got to do with you?"

"They would hurt you to get to me", Cato explains matter-of-factly. "They would've seized the opportunity to thrill the audience by cracking me. They would've done anything if they had known about my secret! Maybe they would've killed you…" He trails off, then adds quietly: "I can't even stand the thought of it."

I feel impatience rising inside of me, and I try hard to hold it back, but it's already prevailing.

"What secret, Cato?" I want to know. "What did you have to hide?"

All at once, I feel his lips on mine. I'm so startled that I pull back from the kiss immediately, even though I've been waiting an eternity for this moment to come.

"I'm sorry –", Cato begins, but now it's me who's cutting him off. I press my lips onto his as hard as I can; so hard that I can't breathe for a few seconds, but breathing doesn't seem important, anyway.

The only thing that matters is the kiss. As long as it endures.

"I didn't plan for that to happen", Cato says when we reluctantly part from each other. "But when I discovered I had feelings for you, I knew I would have to hide them. That's why I've been such an idiot, Clove."

I put my arms around his neck, lost in the gray of his eyes that doesn't seem to be so gray anymore. It's more like graphite. Actually, Cato as a person is a lot like graphite: He can be hard and cold like stone, but he can also be brilliant like crystal. It's just not that obvious, his crystal side. Only if you look closely, you'll discover the graphite's beauty. Not the lyric, sentimental kind of beauty, but the sincere one that's coming from deep inside. That's Cato.

"These are good arguments, you know?" I tell him. "I guess I have to accept your apology."

Cato smiles whole-heartedly. "I love you", he whispers into my ear.

"You're still gonna have to kill me", I tease.

"Under these circumstances…" Cato reaches for my belt and pulls out a knife, then steps back from me and turns skyward.

"Did you hear that?" he yells, obviously talking to the Gamemakers once again. "I love her! And I'm not going to kill her! You can try whatever you want, but I won't do it! I'm not one of your little marionettes! The Games are over; you've lost."

I reach out for his hand when he adds: "And don't even think about hurting her! If you kill her, I will cut my own throat with that knife and there'll be no victor at all!"

Before I can even think about it, I grab another knife with my free hand and point it at the sky. "I'll do that, too!" I announce loudly, not even the slightest trace of doubt in my voice.

I squeeze Cato's hand tightly. I feel like I would do anything for him. This is not just a mere flashing of solidarity, but it's a strong bond that will unite Cato and me until the end.

Either both us win or none at all. It doesn't matter as long as we stay together. I don't care if I die because it'll be with Cato, and I wouldn't want to live without him, anyway.

There's nothing the Gamemakers can do to stop us.

We've already won.

And after a few seconds, they seem to have recognized that, too. Claudius Templesmith's voice sounds really blank compared to his usual enthusiastic tone, but it doesn't matter to me.

I am looking into Cato's eyes and all I hear is: "Ladies and gentlemen, the victors of our 74th annual Hunger Games: Cato and Clove."