TW for mentions of emotional abuse in the second POV.

"No one's gonna hurt you,

No one's gonna dare

Others can desert you,

Not to worry

Whistle, I'll be there."

Asa Trevino, 15, District Nine Male

He hasn't let go of Luz's hand since the Escort called their names. The warm pressure of her pulse is like an anchor for him. Her touch is the only thing keeping him from running away, taking off and soaring, fast as a hummingbird. But when Asa runs, he runs to her. So he just laces his fingers through hers and breathes through the panic, leaning on her for strength as he always has.

The Peacekeepers approach them and usher them off the stage. Asa and Luz walk hand in hand, until the moment when the Peacekeepers stop.

"Time to say your goodbyes," one of the Peacekeepers says. "You'll be going to separate rooms in the Justice Building. Mr. Trevino, come with me, and Miss Contreras will go with my colleague here."

The two Peacekeepers watch them expectantly, waiting for them to let go of each other. But Asa doesn't want to. Luz looks anxious, and that makes him anxious.

"Why do we have to say goodbye?" asks Luz, and her voice is level and musical.

"You may not see your loved ones again for... quite some time."

Asa's breath catches. Luz's mother knew Linnet Llamora, the girl that went into the Games and did not come back. "She was different, after the Games," Mrs. Contreras had once said. "Haunted eyes."

Luz squeezes Asa's hand. "Will we see each other again?" she asks softly.

"You'll ride the train together," one of the Peacekeepers says. "You'll be reunited in about a half-hour. Please accompany us to the Justice Building so you can speak with your families."

Asa doubts that his father will want to see him, and he feels dread unspool inside him at the thought that he would come.

Maybe it's all Asa's fault that he and Luz were Reaped. Maybe he's to blame. Asa is overcome with the urge to run once more, thoughts of his father and Luz potentially getting hurt and being unable to smile and brush this situation away making his heart pound, but Luz squeezes his hand.

"I'll see you soon," she says softly, looking at him with a tenderness that instantly makes him feel better. "We're in this together."

And then she lets go.

She follows the other Peacekeeper away, and the remaining official turns to him expectantly. "Come with me, please."

He doesn't want to. He's so scared. The woman reaches out as if to touch his shoulder and he flinches back, feeling an instinctual jolt of fear. The Peacekeeper's eyes soften, and she retracts her hand.

"If you want to see your girl again, you need to follow directions."

His girl. He exhales and hurries after the woman into the Justice Building, where he finds the Contreras family waiting for him.

Dolores, Luz's mother, reaches out her arms, and with an approving nod from Asa, she embraces him, murmuring comforting words into his curly hair. Mr. Contreras looks angry, his expression fierce. After a moment, Asa realizes that Luz's father is not angry at him.

"I can't believe they get away with this," he snarls as little Anza hugs Asa's waist. She probably doesn't understand where Asa and Luz are going. Then again, neither does he.

"Asa, baby, please be careful," says Dolores. "These Games are dangerous."

He nods, pacing circles around the room. "I will. I promise."

Already Asa misses Luz. He fell for her the first time he saw her, and it's changed him for the better. He always wants to be there for her, through all of life's tribulations. He wants to see her grow up, and he fully plans to marry her someday.

But he knows, like he knows the sun will rise in the morning, that these Games are not going to be kind to them. He fully intends to make sure that Luz makes it to the other side. Luz Contreras' family will miss her if she's gone. The world will miss her. Come what may, he'll make sure she comes back home, safe and sound.

...

Callisto "Cal" Novella, 17, District Five Male

When he Volunteered for the Games alongside his twin, Callisto Novella knew why.

All his life, he'd been asking questions. But in that moment, the fog of confused musings had melted away, and when he'd spoken, he'd felt confident. He hadn't planned that moment, hadn't meticulously written it down as he so often had before. And yet, he'd known what he had to do, and he'd walked up to the stage in front of all those people and stood beside his sister.

And ever since that moment, Columbia has been practically vaporizing him with her eyes, glaring daggers into his skull. But he still doesn't regret it.

Colby has always been the more successful twin. After working his mind ragged trying to figure out why, he's finally come to the conclusion that he's always been too nice. Too kind for the Novella legacy. And Colby is perfect for it; she is ruthless and pragmatic and has always been praised by their parents, simply by being born with different personality traits than Cal, while Callisto himself got abused, ravaged with words. He could perfectly recite their knife-sharp monologues if anyone asked him to, the way they called him weak, pathetic, useless. And yet he has never been angry. He still isn't. Why should he be?

"What were you thinking?" Colby demands of him now, as the Peacekeepers herd them from the stage.

How could she ask such an impossible question? He was thinking so many things, he always is. He was thinking about how Colby is such a prized jewel to the family, how it would be such a shame if she was damaged by the Capitol, or worse, gone. He was thinking about how he'd never been able to do anything right for his family. He was thinking about the ultimate moral truth, how he still hasn't found it.

He steps closer to her, trying to make her understand. But he doesn't know how to tell her through his shaking hands and ragged breath. He tries though, speaking haltingly.

"I... I'm trying to protect you," he manages.

Colby scoffs. "That's so funny, that you'd think I need your protection."

But Colby sees his suffering sister in a way no one else does. He can't imagine how hard it would be, living under such constant pressure. He does not know how to compare tragedies, weigh them on an imaginary scale, but he does know that he feels sympathy for his twin. And he just wants... he doesn't know what he wants. Every time he thinks he has it figured out, every time he believes he's found the right way to do things, it all goes wrong. He doesn't know what he's missing.

But he still tries, because that's what he does; he absorbs himself in books, and he tries to figure out the world.

He knows how this next part will go. Colby will hate him. His parents probably won't even look at him. And no friends will show up to bid him farewell; he has none to speak of.

But he's made this choice. And he's going to make sure that Colby makes it out of these Games, and back home to their parents. Because maybe then he'll finally figure it out, whatever 'it' is.

What else can he do?

...

Here we are, with another intro! This time we've met some kids who are just trying to live their lives and figure things out, but the Games (and the Submitters, and the author of this story) had other ideas! What did you think of them? Next chapter, we're back with goodbyes part two! Thank you to all who reviewed, it means a lot. I hope you are having a lovely day, I am really enjoying these intros and I hope you are as well!

Much Love,

Miri