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There will be one more chapter after this, wrapping things up back in District Five.

Post-Games
Some That Die

Tania Fray
District Five Mentor

She wanted to hate him.

What Harakuise had done to Brie was despicable. He's used her, manipulated her, turned own love for her brother into a weapon and used it against her. And, worse, he'd always planned to – maybe as far back as the train rides.

She wasn't sure who she was angrier at – him for doing it, or herself for not seeing it.

But watching him now, smiling in his sleep, it was harder to hate him. Harder to blame him. Thinking back to her own Games, Tania knew she might have done the same thing, if she had thought of it. It would never have occurred to her, of course – her mind didn't work that way. But could she really blame him for the fact that his did?

No, she couldn't hate him. But she didn't have to like him.

Slowly, Harakuise opened his eyes. His smile faded. "Tania," he said quietly, surprised. Clearly, he hadn't expected her to be the one to greet him. "I'm … sorry."

"That you killed her?" Tania asked, a bit more harshly than she meant to.

Harakuise sat up a little, shaking his head. "No. It was her or me. I'm not sorry for that. I'm just … sorry it was necessary. She didn't deserve it."

Tania looked away. He'd wanted to survive. She couldn't exactly fault him for that. And he'd made it quick, which was more than she'd expected. "None of them deserved it," she said at last. "But that doesn't mean you did, either. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Harakuise shrugged. "I was expecting it. You liked Brie better. I get it. I'm not the victor you would have preferred. But I'm the victor you've got." He held out his hand. "And, at the very least, that means you're not alone any more."

Tania stared. He was right, of course. District Five had another victor now. Another mentor. It would still be her burden, but now she could share it. She had hoped to share it with Brie, but, if that couldn't happen … well, this was better than being alone.

Tania reached out and shook Harakuise's hand. "And neither are you," she replied. "Things aren't quite over yet, and I just want you to know … I'm still here to help you."

She fully expected him to laugh. To scoff. To say that he'd won the Games without any of her help, and he certainly didn't need her now. But the boy in front of her simply nodded. "Thank you. There is something you can do." He reached over to a small table beside him and lifted a little rag doll. "This belongs to a little girl named Bailey in District Seven. If you could give it to Hazel, she'll get it back where it belongs. I'd do it myself, but … well, it might be better if it came from you, seeing as my alliance was responsible for Sterling's death."

Tania blinked. "It was Equinox who—"

"Who stabbed him? Yes, it was, but coating the knives with swamp water was my idea. If the wound hadn't been infected, he might have lasted longer – maybe long enough to win." He shrugged. "It's the little things that make the difference, in the end. Tiny variables that change the course of the Game – that make it unpredictable. A different word here, a little bit of water there, a few inches in either direction – things could have turned out so differently, so easily."

Tania found herself staring again. "All that planning, all that manipulating, and you're crediting luck?"

Harakuise shook his head. "Not luck. Unpredictability. Chaos. The sort of things you forget to take into account if you're planning out every possible scenario. It's not chess. It's…" He trailed off weakly, lying down again. "Are you going to give her that doll or not?"

Tania actually smiled a little. "Of course. Just one question."

Harakuise closed his eyes. "One."

"Brie promised Sterling she would get it back to Bailey. So you took the doll from her after you killed her. You want to fulfill her promise – why?"

Harakuise smiled sleepily and mumbled two words before dozing off again: "Why not?"

Cornelius Juniper
Hunger Games Host

He was glad the Games were over.

Cornelius was always grateful when the Games were done with, and the victor was sitting safely beside him onstage.

They were so different – the victors. Vester had been triumphant, and seemed as if he'd wanted the Games to go on quite a bit longer. Ivy had been grinning from ear to ear, so different from whenever he saw her now. Hazel had been in shock; it had been an effort to get even a few words out of her. Glenn hadn't had much to say, either, but for different reasons; aside from starving in a swamp, he hadn't really done much during the Games. Even Cornelius had struggled to come up with material for that one.

Tania had just seemed relieved, grateful that everything was over and done with. Lander had put on a rather convincing show of pretending the Games had been no big deal. Jade had been smiling and waving the entire time, caught up in the realization of his dream, already determined to help other children achieve what he had. Mags had appeared calm, but he could tell it was an effort for her to stay that way, and she had gripped his hand the entire time, as if not quite believing that she was really safe.

And now their newest victor, Harakuise Swallot, sat beside him, sitting as tall and straight as he could manage, decked out in a dark blue uniform, complete with gold trim and a formal-looking cap. He looked every inch a soldier, newly returned from battle, and his expression matched the tone: serious, grave, but also proud.

It was hard to believe the boy was fourteen years old.

After a few moments of introduction and a generous amount of cheering from the crowd, Cornelius turned to the boy. "So, Harakuise, are you ready to watch the highlights?"

Harakuise nodded crisply. "Of course, Cornelius. I have to admit, I'm rather curious to see how it all played out."

It took Cornelius a moment to realize that he wasn't making a joke, despite the fact that it was obvious how it had turned out; he was sitting here, alive, after all. So Harakuise took it upon himself to explain. "Oh, we all know how the story ended, of course. But there are still some missing pieces of the puzzle – some parts that I missed. You know the whole story, Cornelius, as does the audience. Some of it's still a mystery to me." He smiled a little. "And I don't like mysteries."

Cornelius grinned broadly. "Yes, I remember you telling me that the last time I saw you. I believe I still owe you a tour of the Capitol."

"I promised I'd hold you to that," Harakuise nodded. "But not tonight, I suppose."

"No, we've got quite the night planned as it is," Cornelius agreed. "Let's see if we can fill in some of those puzzle pieces of yours, Harakuise."

Harakuise Swallot
Victor of the Ninth Hunger Games

Pieces of the puzzle.

That's what they were, in the end – the other tributes. Pieces of the puzzle. Gears in the machine. Stepping stones that had only led to his victory.

But, as the highlights played, Harakuise couldn't shake the thought that it would have been so easy for things to end differently.

The gong sounded, and, this time, he could see everything. He'd known that Equinox had gone after the boy from Three, but now he could see Husk – taking down his district partner first, then going after the chubby girl from Ten, only to be attacked by her district partner. What if Husk had been satisfied with one kill, left Libby alone? How would his own alliance have fared with Husk in command?

Now he could see Sher reaching the same conclusion he had – that the Cornucopia wasn't necessarily directly across the mountains, that maybe it was to the north or to the south. His alliance turned south, Harakuise's north. What if their places had been exchanged?

Abstract reached the Cornucopia, then settled down to wait for the first tribute to stumble into her trap. Harakuise wasn't too surprised when that tribute turned out to be the young girl from Twelve. As he watched her allies flee, Harakuise couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if his alliance had gone straight over the mountains. Would that have been one of them, instead?

Harakuise watched in amazement as the boy from One picked up two kills – his ally, the girl from Six, and then the large, muscular volunteer from Four. Despite the fact that the footage had been condensed and edited, Harakuise could still tell the boy's death had been agonizingly slow. To his own surprise, that bothered him a little. Mars had been helpless. Angus could have made his death quick, as Harakuise had done for Brie, but, instead, he had savored every moment of it.

Then again, Brie had been his district partner, and, in the end, an ally of sorts. If he had been facing someone who had tried to kill him – someone who deserved it, maybe one of the rebels – he might have done the same thing.

The next two deaths were a surprise, too – the girls from Three and Seven, killed by their own ally, Ella. Harakuise found himself staring, dumbfounded. He had assumed Ella had lasted so long simply by hiding. He'd never imagined what the girl could do with a few sharpened sticks. Harakuise smiled a little, glad he hadn't known that when he and Brie had decided to seek her out. Would they have handled it differently? Would they have been more cautious?

Would that caution have cost him his victory?

Harakuise wasn't at all surprised that they chose to show him standing at attention during the anthem. As he'd hoped, it had an effect on the crowd, and, even now, they cheered, applauding his show of loyalty. Harakuise glanced over at Vester, seated with the other victors, but his expression was unreadable. Was he upset that Harakuise had borrowed his idea? Was he glad it had worked? Or did he wish it hadn't?

Either way, it was clear the Capitol's attention had paid off; his request for a message to be sent to Sher was immediately followed by a parachute drifting down towards the Cornucopia. The look on Sher's face told Harakuise everything he needed to know: the boy had never even considered refusing his offer. It was too tempting. Too much of a puzzle. And Sher needed puzzles solved as badly as he did. How differently would the Games have gone is Sher had been just a little less curious, or a little more cautious?

The next day consisted mostly of shots of the larger alliance exploring the arena. As Kiona and Zione headed for the swamp, Harakuise barely held back a laugh. Luckily for them, Sher had warned them away from the area of the swamp near the mountains. Otherwise…

What? Would his alliance – three strong at the time, and with the element of surprise – have been able to take them down? Or would he and his allies, hungry and weaponless, have been defeated easily? And what would Zione and Kiona's alliance have done if their leaders hadn't returned from the marsh?

Lordez, however, wasn't so lucky. Harakuise nodded silently as Sher left her to die at Ella's hands. The boy had fooled everyone else – maybe even his allies – into thinking he wasn't a threat, but, even if he hadn't personally gotten his hands dirty, he'd been perfectly willing to sacrifice even his allies if the opportunity presented itself.

Then the forest began to move. Harakuise sat there gaping for a moment, then burst out laughing. No wonder Ella had lasted so long! The audience must have adored her. And now her forest took her to the volcano, safely away from everyone else's reach. Harakuise found himself applauding along with the audience – applauding not Ella, but the Gamemakers. Clever. Very clever.

They played his encounter with Sher in full, and, unlike most of the previous shots, there was no background. No music. Nothing. Just the two of them, the two best minds in the arena, locked in a battle of intellect. Harakuise forced himself to watch as he stabbed his opponent, as he heard Sher's last words one more time. "Then I win."

And he would have, Harakuise was certain, if he had let him live then. He was clever. Too clever. He would have found a way.

In that sense, Sher had been the only piece of the puzzle he had been certain of.

Angus caught up to the tributes in the caves, and that was the end of the girl from Ten. Angus quickly followed, finished off by the girl's allies as he lay unconscious. The next morning, Aldo joined the ranks of the dead after wandering out onto the marsh to retrieve his parachute. What if he hadn't? What if Equinox had gone, instead? What if they had both waited for Harakuise to come back? Would he have died, instead?

No. No, probably not. Harakuise was fairly certain he would have reacted the same way to his father's face in the marsh. As he watched himself stumble back out of the swamp, however, it suddenly struck Harakuise how easily Equinox could have killed him just then. Why hadn't he? Had the boy felt some sort of loyalty towards him? Had he simply not wanted to lose another ally so soon? Had he been afraid of facing the others alone?

The footage turned back to the tributes in the caves – Nicoline and Pike making their way east while Wulfric headed west, searching for them. Then the drums began – deep and steady, echoing through the mountains. Harakuise leaned forward, struck with a sudden curiosity. His alliance had never ventured into the mountains themselves. What was in there?

As soon as he saw what lay beneath the mountains, of course, Harakuise was grateful his own alliance had sought shelter elsewhere. The creature that trailed the two younger tributes was terrifying – flame and darkness, fear and death. The boy fell, and the girl ran on, finally reaching Wulfric on the other side of a chasm. Pike, closely pursued by the creature, reached the bridge Nicoline and Wulfric had made, and Harakuise tensed, waiting for him to try to cross it.

But he didn't. Instead, the boy reached down and cut the rope, then turned to face the creature alone. Harakuise stared, unable to turn his eyes away, as the boy was engulfed in the flames. The footage lingered for a moment on the image, and Harakuise could practically feel the cameras on him, broadcasting his reaction.

Harakuise didn't think. He simply rose, gave a quick salute, and sat back down.

Cornelius cocked an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "It was a good death," Harakuise shrugged. "Courage, honor, sacrifice – that's everything the Games are about, right there. He was only twelve, and he understood that. The Games are a chance for all of us – both victors and vanquished – to show our quality. And he showed his: the very highest."

Harakuise couldn't be sure, but he thought he could see Aron nodding his thanks. Maybe even his approval, or his agreement.

The footage rolled on, moving faster now. Wulfric and Nicoline wandered through the caves, finally stumbling out into the light, only to be met by Abstract, who quickly killed the girl. Wulfric, in turn, killed Abstract, and Harakuise's curiosity about what had prompted the boy to take on the larger alliance was satisfied. Something inside him had snapped, and he had simply lost any sense of the danger he might put himself in by attacking. What would have happened, Harakuise wondered, if Abstract had waited? If she had killed Wulfric first instead of Nicoline? Would Abstract have been so careless as to attack the larger alliance? Or would the battle have played out without her, leaving the injured survivors ready for the slaughter at her hands?

He knew the rest of the story, but it was strange watching it from the outside. It was amazing, really, how well everything had come together during the battle – the fog obeying his command, Wulfric attacking at just the right moment, no one noticing Harakuise as he quietly made his way to the Cornucopia. Zione and Kiona slew Wulfric, and then Brie and Sterling slew Equinox. Harakuise shook his head as he watched himself stab Kiona. Stupid. So stupid and reckless. He should have waited. And the mistake had nearly cost him his life.

Fortunately, his opponents had been stupid, too – not bothering to check to see if he was still alive, even after the other bodies were removed. A parachute floated down, bearing two syringes. Zione chose one.

Harakuise shook his head. How differently things would have gone if he had chosen the other one.

At Kiona's death, Zione began raging at the Capitol, and Brie and Sterling wisely fled. Harakuise watched himself crawl out of the Cornucopia, and then stab Zione in the back. Zione turned on him, knife in hand, but then dropped it in favor of the other syringe. Harakuise smiled a little, savoring the rebel's death in a way he hadn't been able to in the arena. Then, he had been bleeding, wracked with pain, and almost certain he was going to die himself. Now he could feel the satisfaction. He'd done what he'd set out to do, and more. The rebels had died, and he had lived.

For a moment, the fact that it could easily have ended differently didn't really matter.

Much of the audience was in tears at Sterling's death, then on the edge of their seats as Harakuise revealed himself to Brie, proposing an alliance. Harakuise smiled a little. Was it simply dumb luck that she hadn't thrown her knife at him before he'd revealed his plan? Luck, or simply her nature, not to kill without great need? Either way, he had no doubt it was that moment that had cemented his victory.

They played every moment of the fight in the volcano. Ella's fiery death. Brie's sacrifice – though it wasn't portrayed that way. For all the audience knew, her back had been broken in the fall, and she had been helpless. Harakuise – and surely the Gamemakers, as well – knew better. She had chosen his life – and, by extension, her brother's – over her own. Freely. Willingly.

The eagles bore them out of the erupting volcano, the Capitol anthem soaring majestically in the background. The audience rose to their feet in applause, and, after receiving a nod from Cornelius, Harakuise stood and saluted them. No smile. No bows. No waving. Just the salute of a soldier to his citizens, a promise that his life was theirs to command.

Because that was what mattered, in the end. It didn't matter that the Games could have ended differently. It didn't matter whether he died in the arena or lived to see a hundred more Games play out. All that mattered was that, whether he lived or died, he did it with honor, dignity, and loyalty.

And he would.

"Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?"