Ahh! Finally on Winter Break! I apologize for the slight hiatus. I know it's been a while since I updated. But to celebrate my break, here's the new chapter for you! You get to meet our lovely couple's stylist, and see what she has up her sleeves!

The next chapter will come much more quickly than this one, I can assure you. Enjoy!

"Brother, I was shortsighted!

I ignored your cries...

You really are the chosen one,

the calculated sacrifice!"

-Razia's Shadow, "The End and the Beginning".

Training had been going well. Everyone had been working hard, himself included, and they had learned several new skills that could help them in the arena. But for now, everything was quiet, calm. Gilbert couldn't sleep. He'd been restless all night, and now he sat in their window, staring out as the first rays of twilight began to break through the darkness. The albino man looked tired. Exhausted. And he was. Quite honestly, he'd not slept more than an hour or two every night since they had arrived here. All the rest of his time was spent planning, planning, running every scenario he could imagine through his head. He was struggling without alcohol, but he'd promised himself to stay sober, to not go into the Games dependent on something he would certainly not have. Instead, he occupied his darting thoughts with remnants of memories from past Games he had seen. Every arena was different, but that didn't mean there couldn't be something useful. Perhaps similar plants or animals, a repeat in muttations or obstacles, a strategy used, or, or...Long, slightly roughened fingers rubbed repeatedly at the man's temples, trying to ease the throbbing. His normally alcohol-numbed mind was now alive and racing, leaving him staring out the window without seeing, completely absorbed in the pseudo-battles occurring behind his eyes.

A light disruption in the breathing behind him was his only warning that the blond man he shared his room with had woken.

"You're up early." There was a subtle note of surprise in Vash's voice as he approached the window, gazing past the glass instead of at Gilbert. To be honest, he was a little unnerved that he hadn't realized that the other hadn't been in bed...or that he hadn't noticed sooner that the albino hadn't been sleeping regularly.

Gilbert turned from the window with a light shrug, chuckling. "Wanted to see a sunrise for once." He moved from the window, padding across the floor towards the bathroom, his gleeful expression falling a bit once his back was turned to the other male. "Not like I have many left," he muttered, pushing the bathroom door open and turning on the water, beginning to wash his face.

"What was that?" Vash turned from the window after a moment, frowning some and looking towards the bathroom, only to see a smiling, Gilbert come out, flinging a wet towel carelessly towards him. The shorter man immediately reached out to catch it, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Pig."

"Hey, I'm allowed to be messy. Not like they have to put up with me for long, right? Dead man walking here." He chuckled some, flopping back on the bed, stretching luxuriously. Vash looked startled by his words, his fingers curling a little tighter around the towel he held.

Somehow, he'd forgotten to remember that if he got to go home to his Lilli, Gilbert would die. His lips parted to say something-what, he wasn't sure, but anything would do, really-to thank Gilbert again, to say he'd never realized what the man was offering to give up, to...but Vash had never been excellent with words. His skill was with guns, and by the time his jumbled thoughts fell into some semblance of order again, it was too late.

A hard knock on the door alerted them to the presence of the Peacekeepers, and they were swept out of the room, Gilbert half-dressed, wearing only his pants, Vash belatedly letting the towel fall to the floor, his green eyes turning to watch as they led the albino down the opposite hallway he was being walked down.

xXx

"You're not putting more of that powder on me."

"But, sir, we mus-"

"No more fucking powder! I'm done with this! You've scrubbed me and painted me and prettied me up all I'm going to allow now, got it? Get the hell away from me with that brush!"

There was a crash as a table was overturned, several pots of color spilling as Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms and fuming. "This is my natural skin tone, alright? I'm a freak, yeah yeah, heard that before. But that's me, alright? Get over it."

His stylists were huddling, trembling before him now, and with a soft sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, dusting some of the yellow powder out of it, making it appear once more silver, rather than the brushed on blond they had attempted to turn it to. "Aw...come on, don't act that way. I'm not really mad, okay? Here, look, come here, I think you missed a speck of dirt on one of my nails..."

And with a soft sigh, he was back under the ministrations of those three strange creatures from the Capitol.

xXx

At the opposite end of the building, Vash sat quietly as his hair was brushed through a final time. Throughout the entire process of being painted and pampered, he had been silent and compliant, doing his best to keep his temper with his mild-mannered stylist, a woman who called herself Lutetia. She was the only stylist for District Two; her companion had mysteriously disappeared a week before the Reaping, and no time had been left to find a replacement. But Vash had found her quite unwilling to speak of that. She was surprisingly normal looking for someone from the Capitol; her hair fell to her shoulders, a silky black, tipped with red, and her skin was untouched, a pale, flawless shade of cream.

"Your fellow tribute is apparently making a real mess of things down the hall." She murmured softly, urging him to stand with a gentle push of her finger at his elbow. She clipped and buckled heavy belts around him, filled with disarmed ammunition. She'd picked up quickly on his taste and styles, and had whipped together a theme she was sure both of tributes from District Two would be agreeable to; and she had been right. Vash had been pleasantly surprised at the lack of flashy, gaudy trinkets, and the minimalist design of their costumes.

"I do not doubt that in the least, Miss Lutetia." He murmured as she brought out face paint in varying shades of greens, browns, and blacks, beginning to paint his face in a camouflaged, war-like facade that accented the stunning green of his eyes and made them brilliant.

"I told you to call me Lutie." A light note of disapproval. "It shouldn't be much to worry about. When I am finished with your paint, I will go deal with him." The slight edge to her voice made Vash smile, just faintly. The woman knew what she was doing.

"Hit him once for me."

"I'll be certain to do that." And with a flourish, he was done, and she was gone, the door closing with a click that rang of a finality he did not want to think about.

And then, all Vash could do was laugh as he heard shouts and crashes from the end of the hall.

xXx

Gilbert's fresh bruises were covered with paint that matched Vash's, the two of them suited up in gear reminiscent of a war they never saw, belts with bullets crossed over their pale, scarred chests. Baggy camo pants bunched around their knees, tucked into surprisingly plain black boots. Leather gloves covered their fingers, and Gilbert had a pair of tinted goggles to hide the deep crimson of his eyes, lest it frighten any potential sponsors. He'd fought with their stylist for half an hour keep her from putting contacts in his eyes, and this had been the compromise.

"My eyes look fine. Not like those Capitol freaks don't look weirder than me. I saw a blue chick walking down the hall. Blue." He grumbled, fidgeting with a bandage on his upper arm, where Lutetia had hit him; the cloth was smeared in a deep red dye that quite accurately resembled blood. Vash slapped his hand away.

"They consider it stylish. Stop picking at that or it will come off. You would look odd to them. You only have to deal with it for a little while; can't you be still for five minutes?" The man sighed in frustration, swatting at his hand once more as the albino started moving the belts.

"They feel weird! And stop hitting me, damn you!" Gilbert inched slightly away from the other, pouting and crossing his arms, looking dejectedly to the side. Vash merely rolled his eyes and looked around the room; the parade was no different from the training in that the Tributes seemed to be keeping purposefully away from everyone else. It was odd; even those from the Career Districts seemed to be keeping away. Perhaps it was because they'd chosen the lovers from each area, and not the fighters.

Except for in District Two. His blue eyes slid once more to Gilbert. Logically, if he calculated their chances, they'd be much more willing to sacrifice each other, because they weren't romantically involved. Right?

But wasn't Gilbert's professed purpose to protect him in these Games?

If that was truly the case, that meant that only Vash was willing to sacrifice his partner. How heartless that sounded, when he put it to himself like that. But if it meant he could return to his Lilli...

Vash had to blink a few times to register the gloved hand waving in front of his face, the annoyed albino in front of him gesturing towards their carriage, lips moving without sound. A light shake of his head, and Vash started moving towards the carriage, sound returning to the world.

"...the fuck were you thinking about? We've got to go, we're the second ones out, dumbass!"

Any retort was silenced as they climbed atop their carriage, balancing easily there, back to back as they had been instructed to do, large guns balanced on their hips, left arms hooked. After all, they had to make it look good for the spectators.

The doors opened for the second time. When had the tributes from District One gone? He'd missed it...But there they were, ahead of them, decked in shimmering whites and golds. A female stood atop the black carriage, dancing in the arms of a man in an expensive and exquisite looking suit, both swaying to music no one else could hear. The woman was what caught the eye though, beautifully clad in a wedding dress. Vash could almost hear the sighing and sobbing of the Capitol women, their hearts breaking for the lovely bride and groom.

It was a clever ploy, and all of the tributes knew it.

A hush fell over the crowd as their carriage entered the limelight, the spectators appearing shocked at the sudden, harsh transition from bright, happy memories of weddings and dancing, balls and riches, to stark, cold reality, the pair of them standing rigidly together, expressions grim. Perfect semblances of soldiers, going to their deaths; and that was what they were, weren't they? Lutetia had done her job well.

As one, they raised their guns, as earlier instructed, and fired into the air.

The crowd gasped as one as what the couple thought had been blank shells exploded in the air, a shimmering picture appearing above them of a flower, a lily blooming over their heads, before slowly curling in on itself and wilting, showering them with sparkling ash, making their skin seem to glow under the lights.

A resounding cheer went up from the crowd, and some of the tension eased from Vash's back as he felt Gilbert relax some as well.

Lutetia had done her job quite well.

I hope it was worth the wait! The next chapter will be coming soon, and we'll finally begin the Games!

I'm always glad to hear suggestions and comments; drop some off!