Despite Katniss's growing doubts about Olive and Finnick's relationship, it was a surprise for her to see them talking in the artificial sea. Both wasted no time to demonstrate their love. Probably because, for whatever reason, they had kept it hidden from everyone else. At least she and Peeta.
"Did they use Olive against Finnick?" asked Peeta.
"No." Katniss shook her head softly. "He called many names. The most recurrent were Mags and Annie, though."
"That's odd," said Peeta. "I didn't think they would use Olive's sister against him."
"Maybe they wanted Olive to go in instead of him." Katniss readjusted her head on Peeta's shoulder, while he moved his arms to have a better hold of her still-shivering body. "They could have planned the jabberjays for her."
"Why use 'Mags', then?" asked Peeta, more to himself than to Katniss. "Wouldn't her other two siblings make more sense? Or her father?"
Johanna ignored the couple as she sat beside them, bringing back the shells filled with water that she had promised not long ago. Olive's and Finnick's interaction didn't faze her like it did with the young couple from Twelve. She wasn't exactly used to seeing her two friends being open about their relationship. It wasn't something Victors had the privilege to do. Nevertheless, their little moment, even if so brief due to a cannon's intervention, was well-deserved. She could only hope that, by the time Thirteen came to the rescue like the 'heroes' they so claimed to be, Olive would remember it.
It was a genuine lurking fear of Johanna's. What if one day Olive woke up, and she no longer recognised her? What if, as they watched the hovercraft's claw having to dip down five times into a nearby jungle, she freaked out and forgot more and more? Nobody could snap Olive out of it once her mind had gone into that dark abyss. The moment it ended up there, she was all alone with her thoughts and her disappearing memories. Who knew if she realised she was forgetting? Who knew if she could even make an attempt to fight against it?
Johanna just knew that she didn't want to be forgotten.
"The Gamemakers went overboard this year," said Olive, watching as Peeta drew a new map on a leaf, adding a JJ for jabberjays in their current section and 'beast' in the one where they had seen the tribute collected in pieces. "I don't know if they meant for these Games to be quick, but the fact that we're in the nine left during the second day is kind of concerning."
As time passed, mundane tasks became tiresome. Olive had a chat with Peeta by the treeline while waving baskets for the fish that Finnick caught with his newly woven net. Both were immersed in their conversation. Enough to ignore the sun dropping below the horizon to give pass to an odd bright moon. Only the call to settle for the meal was enough to snap them out of it.
They didn't have to move. All tributes had an unspoken agreement not to stay too close to the water while together. Although, as they were about to dig in, the anthem played, stopping them all in their tracks.
The faces appeared in the sky. Some shouldn't have brought up any feelings, like Cashmere's or Gloss's, but, still, Olive couldn't help but stare at their faces. So perfect, so devoid of their true characters. Even Wiress didn't look like herself. It was all edited. The woman from Five, Six, Bright and the man from Ten weren't any better either. Their last portraits did no justice to them. Even in death, those people would never escape their title. None would ever free themselves from being another Capitol puppet.
"They're really burning through us," said Johanna.
"Who's left? Besides us six and District Two?" asked Finnick.
"Chaff," replied Peeta immediately, though a parachute with a pile of rolls stopped him from going into any further detail. "These are from your district, right, Beetee?"
"Yes, from District Three," Beetee said. "How many are there?"
Like the question had been directly asked towards him, Finnick went ahead and counted them, turning each one over before setting them into a neat pile. That surprised the younger tributes, perhaps just as much as it did to Olive. She knew something was going on. Finnick, as far as she remembered, had never had such an obsession with bread. But how in the world could whatever plan he and Johanna were in be related to bread?
"Twenty-four," said Finnick.
"An even two dozen, then?" asked Beetee.
"Twenty-four on the nose." Finnick nodded. "How should we divide them?"
"Let's each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest," said Johanna, her pride receiving a little boost as Katniss sniggered at her words.
"Vote? Since when have you been so democratic?" Olive chuckled, making Johanna roll her eyes in a playful retort. "Well, I'll go ahead and just take one or two. My throat is not all that good yet, and no offence, Beetee, but District Three's bread is a little hard to swallow."
"As if Four's is any better with how salty it is," said Johanna.
"There's a difference between taste preference and literally getting your throat sliced open by a piece of hard bread." Olive picked her respective roll, taking a small bite of it that lasted long before she could swallow it painlessly. "At least it's better than when Annie and I tried to make bread for the first time… I think."
Just when Katniss would have expected Johanna to make some kind of remark, she stayed quiet. In fact, a deep silence reigned among those who had known Olive the longest. Probably the ones who were more used to her condition than she or Peeta were. They only knew the basics, though they had come to terms with more and more as the Games went on.
However, if a simple phrase such as 'I think' could get that kind of reaction, what else had happened in the past that they didn't know about? What had Olive forgotten before? Everything? Not likely, since she clearly still remembered some things. Any of them, perhaps? It could be plausible. Victors from different districts hardly saw one another unless they were in the Capitol. Who knew if Johanna or Beetee had introduced themselves to Olive, only to get asked, 'Who are you' the following year?
Like a lost child, Olive raised her head, glancing over at Finnick, who responded to her stare with a gentle look in his eyes. "Annie and I tried to make bread, right?"
"Yes," he said.
"Were we bad at it?" asked Olive.
Finnick let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah."
"Hmm."
In utter acceptance, Olive grew quiet, staring at her unfinished roll as if spikes had appeared during the minute she hadn't been looking. Johanna tried to divert the conversation into a critique against Finnick's catch, which Beetee quickly took upon himself to defend. Katniss and Peeta accepted the role of spectators, more so Katniss than Peeta. Finnick, however, was paying close to no attention to his friends and allies. His eyes were only on his lover, whose consciousness had been long-lost.
"My name's Olive Navin Cresta—"
Another taboo sentence. That's what Katniss and Peeta could pick up from their allies' reactions alone. Finnick's desperation to claim Olive's attention back to reality was another giveaway. He didn't have much luck with it, though. Olive was all the way to 'I'm in the Hunger Games' when he managed to get her to blink a couple of times. Not much change, but something that relaxed him and the other two prior victors greatly.
"The wave's at any moment now," said Peeta.
The wave. Katniss had completely forgotten about it. And, judging by Beetee's and Johanna's reactions, so had they. It was horrible timing, really. If the wave had caused Olive to scream and cry Annie's name, probably damaging her throat further, what could happen while she had yet to concentrate back on her surroundings? They could only imagine. None good ends for any of them. The yells could attract the Careers, and, with Olive in such a state, their alliance would lose one of their best fighters, Finnick. Moreover, their own concerns about their ally could prevent them from performing at their usual level during the fight.
As if Olive had heard the warning, she placed her hands over her ears and pressed with all her might. "I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget," she kept on repeating. "Please, not now. Not now. I don't want to forget."
At the top of the ten o'clock section, the wave appeared with its warning sign. It crested high above the trees and then ran down the slope to the beach, where it crashed and made the water rise in all sections.
Finnick quickly grabbed a hold of Olive's arms to get her to stand up, but she remained seated and unmoving. Her eyes were shut tight, contrary to her mouth, which kept on mumbling the same phrase until her lungs ran out of air. Not until the water grazed against her skin did she move, bolting to her feet like fire had touched her instead of water.
There were no cries or yells, which was an improvement over that morning's slip-up, but that didn't mean it was any less concerning. As the water retreated, and most of the alliance prepared to move camp, Olive grew quiet. At first, many had turned their heads in her direction to make sure she was still there, alive. Her little chant, even if slightly annoying, was much more preferred over sudden quietness.
"Has she always been like this?" Katniss asked Johanna.
"No idea." Johanna shrugged. "As far as I've known her, yes."
In the newly settled camp, Katniss and Peeta volunteered to take the first watch, which was accepted with no resistance. Johanna and Beetee were out like a light, while Olive and Finnick took longer to succumb to exhaustion. The older couple had no time to rest, even in their sleep, as they tossed and turned within each other's reach, and mumbled names.
The bolt hitting the tree not much later was enough to wake Finnick up from his nightmares. It took a couple of minutes, and Olive's hand landing over his own, to reassure him he was in fact awake.
"I can't sleep anymore," he said. "One of you should rest." With the first blinks to rid himself of whatever had haunted his sleep, Finnick realised the position in which the younger couple were keeping watch—both joined at the hip and with ragged breaths, much different from having had to run or fight. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."
"It's too dangerous," said Peeta. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss."
Katniss didn't object and took Finnick's place beside Olive, though keeping some distance between her and her ally. Finnick watched the couple chat briefly from his new watch position. He didn't get to hear much of it, neither did he care, but the fact that Peeta would give his token to Katniss spoke louder to him than any word could. Peeta was giving up his only memory of home for Katniss; giving up his life for her. Similar to what he was doing for Olive—to protect all those who they loved.
A kiss finished the young couple's interaction. Peeta walked back to his seat by Finnick's side as Katniss lay down, drifting into a peaceful sleep. No nightmares seemed to attack her, even as time passed, and the moon changed positions in the sky. She was one of the few lucky ones, though. Olive and Johanna had no such luck as they tossed and turned, muttering names in their sleep as if begging someone to stay.
"How's Olive?" asked Peeta, beginning the first conversation of the night between him and Finnick.
"Difficult to say," replied Finnick. "Confused, I think, and very scared. She didn't tell me, but I think she forgot something, maybe someone."
"I shouldn't have said anything about the wave," said Peeta.
"No." Finnick shook his head softly. "Even if you hadn't said anything, that wave is not something she can ignore. Water, in general, is not something she can ignore to be fair."
"Why?" Peeta asked, curiosity lurking in his eyes to mix in with his previous worry. "Why is she so afraid of the sea? Or is it water in itself?"
Finnick let out a long sigh, his trident dancing from one hand to another. She just told me she nearly drowned when she was young. Before her little brother was even born."
"But she's from Four. What could happen to her to almost drown?" Peeta's eyes left the jungle for a split second, enough to watch Finnick pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.
"A lot of things, Peeta," said Finnick. "Being a fisherman is no safe job. I learned the hard way, and I'm sure Olive and her family did too."
"Oh," that concluded the brief conversation for the night.
It wasn't until very much later, during the morning, when everyone was awake, that any form of chatter sprung back to life. All due to another gift from their Sponsors. Twenty-four rolls of the same bread as the day before. Every one of them from District Three, no less.
"Come on," Katniss tugged Peeta towards the water right after they were done eating, "I'll teach you how to swim."
Once they were far away, or at least enough to not hear them, Olive turned her head over to Finnick, who sat beside her, still eating his respective rolls. "Their names," she mumbled carelessly. "Peeta and Katniss, right?"
Finnick had been just about to bite down another piece of District Three's bread when he froze in place. His hands remained in the air for a few seconds, as if pondering what to do, before they fell onto his lap. He wasn't the only one. Johanna and Beetee had similar reactions to Olive's question, their appetite ending as their worry grew.
"Right," Finnick said.
"And we are in the Quarter Quell," continued Olive in an inquiring tone.
"We are," answered Finnick.
"We were…" Like realisation had hit her, Olive's eyes widened before they dashed everywhere on sight, as if in search of something or someone. "Six? We're just six?"
"Uh-huh," muttered Finnick. "We're in the nine left."
"Nine left on the second day?" Olive repeated, baffled.
"Third," he corrected. "It's the third day."
"Oh." Olive fell silent for a moment. "But wasn't that big wave like an hour ago?" she doubted, biting down on her lower lip as she noticed the reactions to her question. "It wasn't, was it? I forgot again."
"You did."
Finnick tried to keep a straight face as he told Olive about the day she had forgotten. How she had freaked out at watching the first wave. That they had found Beetee, Johanna, and Wiress covered in blood not far away from their section. Explained that the Arena was a clock. The fight in the Cornucopia that had started with Wiress's death. How that had been used against them in the form of Jabberjays. And how she, of all people, had dragged him to the water to console him.
"That's a lot of things for a single day," said Olive.
"For a day in the Arena, it isn't," Johanna replied, expecting Olive to be as clueless as ever regarding how an Arena truly was for the tributes, not what it was broadcasted back in the Capitol and districts.
Olive nodded but didn't ask any further questions, ending the conversation right there. Although, little by little, another subject was brought up, and what was left of the alliance moved on to chat about something else. She didn't partake in it right away. Her mind was way too loud to concentrate on anything other than the noticeable blurry and inaccessible memories. But she listened carefully to every word and analysed every expression. No twitch or movement escaped her sight. If she could engrave that moment on stone, she would, but with her memory, it was clear that would never be an option. So, for as long as she could, she concentrated all her attention on those she loved near her. Those she could lose any moment, just like they could lose her. Because there could not be a 'later', like there could be no 'tomorrow', leaving her only with the 'now' that, even if confusing due to her disappearing memories, she was still lucid enough to appreciate.
If Olive had to forget regardless, she would not let the time pass in vain.