TW: Parental death in Aizen's POV. Parental death in Becca's pov. Some kids physically fighting in Becca's pov. Please DM me if you'd prefer a summary.

Aizen Miura, 12, District 12

12 years ago

When Nasa Miura found out she was pregnant with her third child, she could only describe how she felt with one word: uncertain. Iwao and Nasa thought their parenting journey was completed. Their two adult children had moved out, and the Miura's were settling into their new, quiet life.

But Aizen came along, and their world was once again shifted. Aizen would never fully grasp this, but he could feel something was just a little off, no matter how hard his dad worked to mask it. Iwao spent most of his time with his youngest son. He hoped after some time, Nasa too would bond with their surprise son like she had done with their other sons.

(Aizen didn't know what he was doing wrong, but she never seemed to come around.)

But he did know one thing for certain: he and his father were inseparable. Iwao made up for his wife's lost time with their son and introduced him to a wide variety of things. Those who passed by joked that Aizen was just a mini clone of Iwao.

(Aizen loved that.)

He didn't love the other whispers that typically accompanied these words. Rumors of how strange his father was. Of how awkward he was, socially. Of the kinds of secrets, he kept.

The truth was much less exciting to those who whispered. Iwao had no secrets. He had no secret lab hidden within the trees. He harbored no second, secretive family. But District Twelve was so boring and mundane that the rumors spread like fire.

(Aizen wanted nothing more than to be his father. Why were people so mean?)

Iwao frequently took his son out into the forest. Not deep enough to be scary, but just far enough that neither of them could hear the activity from the district.

(Aizen was still scared. He stayed close to his father. When they were together, nothing would hurt him.)

The one thing that never failed to calm Aizen down was the stars. Their beauty always amazed him. And his father always provided him with the same thing to remember, especially when he was feeling overwhelmed by the pressures of the district.

"The stars don't care, Aizen. They shine regardless," he would say. Aizen grasped onto those words. They comforted him every time he needed a bit of extra comfort. And to capture that comfort, Aizen and his father created a map of the stars above their woods.

It was beautiful.

Aizen had no idea that beauty was about to be ripped away from him.

(He was only ten. The world wasn't allowed to be cruel to him yet.)

It was just a day like any other. Aizen and his father were in the woods, as they had done so many times before. They were at a calm river, one that Aizen enjoyed visiting. Aizen was asking his father a question when something started to feel...off.

The dirt started shifting at his feet and in one swift move, he grabbed ahold of the nearest branch. He was able to keep his little body from slipping into the water, despite a few new scratches from the impact with the ground.

But a splash in the water and a heavy impact sent chills down Aizen's body. As he brushed the dirt off his knees, he looked around for his father. He looked up, left, right, anywhere but down. Anywhere but the water.

But he couldn't unsee what he saw. He couldn't forget he knew what happened. He could only sit there. He hoped his father would get up. He hoped he would make some joke about his wet clothes. He hoped. He…

He doesn't know how long he sat there in this frozen state. It felt like hours. Like an eternity. A nightmare he so desperately needed to wake up from. But the current kept flowing, and with it, Iwao Miura's body slowly slipped away. The movement snapped life back into Aizen's body.

(If only it could do the same for his father.)

There was nothing he could do. So nothing is what he did. He walked. And walked. And somehow, he made it to the back door of his own house. Somehow, he found the energy to crawl into his bed. He pulled the covers up to his neck. He didn't dare enter the darkness.

(The darkness brings memories. Memories of what he did. Or... didn't do.)

Aizen Miura wasn't a murderer. But he was a coward. He never, ever wanted everyone to get hurt. But that was what happened. How the heck was he supposed to tell his mother?

He hoped the words would come when she returned home, but they didn't. Not when she asked him how his day was, nor when she asked where her husband was. He never made eye contact with her again.

People volunteered to search the forest. Nasa kept Aizen away from the crowds. She knew he was the last person to see Iwao alive, and so did everyone else. The rumors were harsh when Iwao was alive, and all that harshness has fallen upon Aizen. Iwao's mini-me.

Nasa did what she could, but kids will be kids, and kids Aizen's age were ruthless. He was always subjected to bullies, but it had only grown worse. They picked on him when he walked to school. They threw things at him in class. And when they got the chance, they shoved him. They pushed him. They kicked him down and left him there.

(Like he left his father.)

He tried to get away. He ran and ran, and ran into the forest that had once provided him so much comfort. The first few times, it sheltered him, the boys were too afraid to follow. But that peace only lasted so long. They got braver, and soon they entered his safe haven

And soon enough, the bullies gained enough distance on him that they were able to circle around him, trapping him in these woods. The woods that were once his joy have now become his fear. As the bullies moved in on him, he genuinely believed he would die.

(He welcomed it. He'd get to see Dad again.)

As he fell to the ground beneath him, the boys started to kick him, and his eyes shut. The strikes came over and over again until suddenly - they stopped. Aizen thought he had died.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw the boys sprinting away from him. He heard one of them say something, "Firestarter", but he didn't understand it. Not until he looked up and he saw her standing over him.

"Are you alright?" she asked so quietly he almost didn't hear her. Or maybe she did speak normally, but he was too stunned to hear it. Her dark black hair reached her hips, and it was entangled with leaves and sticks. Her skin was decorated with dirt, and her clothes were about a size too large for her. That was when he noticed the knife.

"Y...yes. Thank you," he said softly. A million thoughts washed in at once. Her state, her appearance, and the word the boy had said. Firestarter.

Aizen was familiar with the rumor. But just like the rumors that encompassed him and his father, he never truly believed it.

"Do...you want to walk with me?" he asked as he tried to straighten out his clothing. He didn't expect her to say yes, but he was glad when she did.

They walked into the forest, into the place that had provided Aizen so much comfort in the past, a comfort he longed for still. He learned her name was Moriko and preferred to be called Mori, but otherwise, she didn't say much. She just listened as Aizen talked. He talked about the forest. He talked about his parents, mostly his dad. He talked about the stars and repeated the advice his father had once given him. He even showed her his map, and when he saw her eyes widen, he promised he would draw a new one with her.

And she protected him. Bullies left him be when he went into the woods, too afraid to face her again.

Aizen Miura had a strange life. But with Mori by his side, he just started to think that things were getting better.

And he never wanted to leave her side.

Becca Sryker, 14, District 10

7 years ago

Becca Sryker was born Becca McFalls, and for the first seven years of her life, she could confidently say she was happy. What little she does remember was filled with joy. Her parents loved her, and they supported her when they could. She was an only child, and they weren't rich. But it was home.

But as was common in the poor districts, Becca's life was shifted in an instant. She noticed something was wrong when nightfall came and her parents weren't home. And when two Peacekeepers showed up at her door, her fears were concrete.

Mauled by a wolf. She couldn't believe how stupid it was. A wolf attacked half a dozen farmhands while the owners hid in their farmhouses. And it left Becca alone.

Her grandparents were still alive, but they could barely afford their own lives, so Becca was relinquished to the district.

(As they had done such a good job at protecting her parents.)

The Community Home was no place for a seven-year-old, and the older kids around her loved to remind her of that. The staff cared for the kids as little as they could get away with, and food rations were minimal. Becca's first night there, her dinner was stolen by some grimy-faced twelve-year-old. The next morning, her breakfast was too. She complained to the staff, but they just ignored her.

She was livid.

She spent a lot of time paying attention to how other people got by. She discovered there were two types of kids in the community home: the kids that stepped over everyone to get what they wanted, and the kids that were stepped on. The first were the bigger kids, the better-fed kids. It was a vicious cycle. As the bigger kids kept getting their way, they grew. While the weaker kids stayed small and weak.

(Becca was not weak.)

Those first two years, she was always hungry. She probably lost weight, and no one lifted a finger to help her. So when she was nine, and those same scumbags tried to take her poor excuse for lunch, she had no choice but to punch one straight in the nose. The crack echoed around the common area, especially once their screaming started. Someone else tried to reach out, maybe to fight back, maybe still determined to get the food. Becca punched them too.

Kids started leaving her alone after that. And the staff didn't even care. They didn't care about anything.

She continued to keep to herself. She figured no one was going to spend energy on her, so she had to be the one to do it. She would be the only person to care for herself. Plus, it was better for her not to allow anyone in. If she did, they could only let her down. No, it was safer to be alone. No one can hurt you if you don't let them.

So, when the Srykers came to the Community Home with the intention to adopt, Becca was shocked when it was her they chose.

Their names were Senna and Clementine, and Becca didn't want to trust them. She didn't say much the first week she was there, she was too busy taking it all in.

Becca couldn't shake the feeling that these two women adopted her to feel better about themselves, especially once she learned Clementine too grew up in the community home. But they always had food on the table, and they didn't ask much of Becca.

Slowly, very slowly she started to come around to them. Time spent with them started to feel more natural. She started talking to them, learning about them, and they offered the same to her.

And the more she tried to keep her philosophy, the harder she failed. Her moms both loved her endlessly. It didn't matter if she failed a test, or got into a fight at school, or had an attitude. They wanted what was best for her.

How could she not let them in?

She slowly allowed herself to enjoy the happiness, and as the years passed, the nagging voice in her head slowly diminished.

(It came back to bite her in the ass.)

1 year ago

With Becca's past comfortably tucked away in the past, she became comfortable in her position as the Sryker daughter.

She arrived at school like she usually did. Some of the kids there knew her from the community home, while some had just heard of her. Safe to say, she was left alone.

She spent her lunches people-watching. She learned a lot from quietly observing. She learned what people's nervous habits were, who liked who, and who was lying to who. Body language spoke so loudly, she didn't understand how no one else picked up on these cues.

Unfortunately for Becca, trouble seemed to have a way of finding her.

She was sitting at lunch when the commotion started. She raised her head and spotted it - the same kids who used to give her shit at the community home, harassing a small girl in the corner.

Becca should have stayed out of it. She hardly knew the girl; she definitely didn't know her name at this point. But something about seeing those same kids doing the same shit, and no one stepping in to stop them…

She pushed out of her chair and stormed over to the activity. One shove to the main bully got their attention.

"Do you want another broken nose?" she spat at them. She saw her face turned red, her nose permanently crooked. The sight made Becca smirk.

"Fine. Not worth my time," she shoved Becca as she walked passed the girl. Becca rolled her eyes before she turned back to the other girl.

"Are you okay?" she asked. The girl's face was red from crying, Becca assumed. But she nodded.

Becca raised her head, then turned to return to her table. She only made one step before the girl spoke up.

"C...can you sit with me?" she asked so softly Becca almost didn't hear her.

Her mind told her no. Her mind told her that she needed to stay on her own. She needed to keep her door shut, she could not afford to open herself up to pain.

(But her heart...)

Becca didn't say anything and walked back over to her table. She was going to take a seat, but she made the mistake of looking back at the girl. Her head was lowered, staring at her lap. Becca thought she might cry again.

So she grabbed her food and returned to the table. She took a seat at the opposite end. The girl's face lifted.

She learned her name was Annis, and that was about it. Neither girl was accustomed to company or small talk, and Becca was doing everything she could not open up to this strange girl. The months passed, and Becca and Annis continued sitting at lunch together. In the classes they shared, they sat next to each other.

Slowly...very slowly, Becca started talking to her. She talked about her time at the community home and the reason she stepped in for Annis. She talked about her moms, how great they were to her. And Annis talked too, about her life at home. Her hobbies and interests. And soon, they were both comfortable enough to call each other friends.

(Past Becca would have been livid. This was only going cause her pain. But present Becca repressed those thoughts, and tried to enjoy the moment.)

Hem Herringbone, 17, District 9

17 years ago…

Many don't speak of the years of chaos that ensued after the rebel destructions. Ignited during the 95th Hunger Games, years of blood-filled fighting ensued. Anyone who had met a rebel had their lives at stake.

Hem's birth parents were one of those unfortunate souls. They were quiet rebel supporters, but the support was never public. Yet fear was still engrained in their hearts.

And then they found out they were pregnant. Their fears for their unborn child took over their lives. Every day, it seemed another innocent face was being executed in the town square.

District 9 wasn't even the most rebellious district…

So when Hem was born, her parents had to do something. They needed to ensure her safety, not for just this moment, but for the entirety of her life.

It was fortunate for them they were friends with the Herringbone family. Friends since childhood, Phillip and Lyre Herringbone had done right in the eyes of the Capitol. They secured their wealth with the most successful grain plantation in the district, and Lyre's unique skill of instrument crafting made her a curious subject. More than once, she had been commissioned to create these beautiful instruments for those in the Capitol. They ensured Lyre always had the materials she needed, and she ensured orders were made in a timely fashion.

So who better to take Hem in than the Herringbones?

Hem grew up happier than most. Her parents made sure of it. The less trouble she would get into, the safer she would be. She knew she was adopted, but she never asked about her birth parents. Her family was all she needed.

Fortunately for her parents, she was never one to want to cause trouble. She just wanted to learn. She excelled in school, she was friendly and outgoing in school. She made a few friendships, and teachers liked her just fine. But the one thing she couldn't get enough of was her mother's instruments.

She was only seven when she saw her mother working on a violin. The District 9 escort had expressed their interest in one, and Lyre complied.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she saw her mom working away in the living room. Lyre looked up at her daughter with a soft smile.

"I'm working. Come sit." Hem sat in the chair beside Lyre and watched. Her mother had the instrument set on the table, cloth draped across to protect it as she painted.

"What is it?" Hem asked as she reached to touch it.

"Don't touch it," her mother directed. "I am painting it to the customer's desired color. Do you like it?" Hem looked at the violin, which shined a nice red when the sunlight hit it just right. She nodded.

"Can I play it?" she asked. She had seen her mother playing similar instruments, but not often. No, more often than not she was crafting them.

"Not this one, my dear. But when I finish it, why don't we make one for you together? One your size." Lyre's words excited Hem. Her very own instrument? She couldn't wait!

Lyre held up her end of the deal, and soon enough Lyre and Hem had finished Hem's first violin. In Lyre's limited free time, she taught Hem the basics of playing. Hem couldn't get enough.

The years passed and Hem's love for music only grew. Lyre crafted multiple types of instruments, but Hem never dropped her love for her violin.

She talked about it so much at school that most people didn't care to listen anymore.

(Hem never noticed. She continued to talk about it.)

Hem's words caught the interest of one girl, a quieter girl much younger than her named Pigment. She came up to Hem after school one day.

"I'd love to see you play," she said so softly that Hem could barely hear her. And Hem was very quick to agree.

Hem and Pigment, who preferred to be called Iggy, spent hours at the Herringbone's house playing instruments. For a while, Iggy just listened and watched, amazed at Hem's skill. But soon, Hem convinced her to pick up the instrument herself and promised to teach her.

The girls were inseparable. Hem, nor her parents, were bothered by how often Iggy was at their house. Iggy was like the sister Hem never had.

Once, Hem offered to travel to her house after school. Iggy shook her head.

"It's not a good idea," she said. Hem didn't understand why, and the whispers of an unstable house never entered her bubble.

(That was a trend for Hem. Her bubble was her safe space.)

6 months ago…

It was rainy when Hem woke up from her blissful sleep. She always enjoyed her days away from school. Most of those days she got to spend extra time with her instruments, or helping her mom with her commissions. But today she and her brothers had agreed to lunch at their uncle's house.

So she got up and picked out a beautiful dress that her mother had given her. It had a beautiful embroidered pattern on the top, with the skirt flowing behind her knees.

She glanced at herself in the mirror. She was pleased that her curls were still looking nice. Her skin, still dotted with white spots as it had been since birth.

She looked perfect for a trip to the mayor's house.

She headed downstairs where her parents were already ready. Her dad smiled at her.

"Hey, sweetheart. You ready?" he asked. She nodded.

"Where are the boys?" she asked, not surprised at their absence. Spruce and Heath were not known for their timeliness, much to Hem's frustration.

"Coming!" She heard Spruce yell from the other room. She laughed, unable to stay mad at their sweet behavior.

They lived up to their promise and the two young boys joined the family, dressed in adorable polos and khakis. Soon, the Herringbone family was off to the mayor's house, a short walk from their larger abode, surrounded by a few homes of similar size.

(Hem had never really traveled to another part of the district.)

When they arrived, they were greeted by one of Pao Herringbone's staff and led into the dining area. Hem had been coming here her entire life, as Pao was quickly appointed mayor after the untimely demise of the previous mayor.

They started to gather around the table and Pao soon joined them.

"You're getting so big," he told Hem as he hugged her. "She's going to outrank you soon, brother."

Philip just smiled. They all took a seat at the table, and the meal was served shortly.

"How's work, Lyre? I've heard endless compliments from your clients," Pao asked.

"It's good. I get a new request every week, it feels like," she replied with a weak smile.

"Good. And how's school?" he asked the kids.

"I hate it!" Heath said instantly.

"Heath." Hem scolded her brother.

"No, it's okay. I felt the same." Pao laughed. He directed his next question to Hem. "How's the music playing?"

"Oh, it's amazing! I've been teaching a girl how to play, she's so sweet. I want to play in front of a big audience one day." Hem was beaming at the thought of it.

"Hemmy wants to play in the Capitol!" Spruce chimed in.

"Is that so?" Pao asked. Hem nodded.

"I just, think it would be a lovely opportunity," she said. She knew it was improbable, district citizens were very rarely allowed to leave. But she loved to dream.

"Well, if you continue your mother's legacy, anything is possible," Pao reminded her. She smiled, but she knew he was just being polite. She never believed she would end up in the Capitol, it was a foreign land to her.

(She had no idea what the future held.)

Ahhh another round of intros! These were quite the kiddos and I had a lot of fun with them and I hope you did too. Thank you to District11-Olive for Aizen, emeraldflower25 for Becca, and champ for Hem!

Thank you a million to goldie031 for helping me with this chapter you're the bestest ever.

Next up: Klara, Dahlia, and Bazooka! Only 2 intros left! Then we'll have a reaping recap/subplotty chapter. And then pregames! The first set of pregame povs will be announced at the end of the last set of intros. Every tribute will be getting 3 pregames povs yay.

Okay that's all. Happy Father's Day!

~Moose