Capo O'Hagan, 18
District Two.

Pulling his jacket over his shoulders, Capo quickly scanned his room, looking for anything else he might need. It wasn't like he unpacked his bag all that often anyways, but it couldn't hurt to check. The last thing he wanted to do was arrive at the Academy and discover that something was missing.

"Capo! C'mon man, Ma left us breakfast!" Carlos' loud voice rang through their entire house. It'd always felt like the whole house would collapse every time Carlos yelled for somebody.

"Yessir," Capo responded, swiping his bag up. He pushed his way out of the room and, firmly closing the door behind him, descended the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath him.

"Why is everyone being so… loud?" Ciaran asked from the couch, curled up with one of his textbooks between his hands. Capo always thought it was funny how massive the books his younger brother favoured looked compared to him.

"Dunno," Capo responded, dropping his bag by the door as he moved into the kitchen. "You coming for food, Ciaran?"

"In a minute, let me finish this-"

"That's what you always say, Ciaran," Carlos said, sticking his head past Capo. "Come eat, how else will you grow big and strong like us?"

"I probably won't. It's quite unlikely even, considering my history of health issues," Ciaran sighed as he closed the book, casting it aside. He wandered into the kitchen, Carlos ruffling Ciaran's hair as he squeezed between them. Ciaran was no larger than any of the kids in the youngest class of trainees, despite being older. He had always been a small kid; both Capo and Carlos dwarfed their brother. Capo remembered when he was born, months early with hardly a fighting chance and now to see him thriving despite everything-

Capo was glad everything had paid off in the end.

Sliding into his spot at the table, Capo found a plate of food in front of him in just a moment- Mom always left them something to eat in the mornings, which Capo certainly didn't mind. He'd preferred cooking himself, but there wasn't always time for that- and it often meant missing out on seeing his brothers. It wasn't like he got much time to spend with them anyways, with all three boys being so busy. The only time all three of the O'Hagan siblings were in the house were the hours of the morning when the grass was still wet with dew, the sun just beginning to shake the world from its slumber.

(Capo didn't mind a bit - they'd spent the better part of two years trapped between the walls of their house. Somehow he thought the O'Hagans would never truly escape their home, which had been turned into an unwilling prison, thought he would never get to feel the wind on his face or be warmed by the sun's light again.)

Despite it all, they'd survived, and Capo couldn't have been prouder.

"Capo, are you goin' up to the Academy today?" Carlos asked, snapping Capo out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, of course," Capo responded, chewing mindlessly on his toast. "Why?"

"Would ya mind walking Ciaran up to school first?"

"Why? He's old enough, he can do it himself."

"See, that's what I said," Ciaran piped up. "I don't get why mom's so worried about me all the time!"

"That's just how mom is, buddy," Carlos shrugged, shooting a look at Capo.

"What? I can't be late," Capo shrugged, finishing off the last of his food. He pushed his chair back, moving to place his plate in the sink. "He's fine. If you're worried about it, do it yourself."

"I am fine!" Ciaran declared, scrambling to follow suit, his plate clattering into the sink loudly. "And I'm also running late, so I better get going!"

"Okay, okay if you say so," Carlos laughed, as Ciaran wandered off into the living room. Ciaran shouted goodbye, slamming the door behind him. Now only Capo and Carlos were left, facing each other in the kitchen.

"If Mom's mad about him walking on his own I'm sending her after you," Carlos sighed.

"He's almost fourteen," Capo shot back, folding his arms across his chest. "Mom can't coddle him forever. He's gonna have to learn how to live life normally eventually."

"I know, but you know how he is-" Carlos started, stopping himself mid-sentence. But he didn't need to continue for Capo to know what he was referencing. Hardly a day went by without the man's dying screams crossing his mind. Ciaran had only wanted to help, but letting an infected into their home would've gotten them all killed. Capo had watched vigilantly out the window for hours as the light dwindled, taking the man's final remnants of life with it.

No matter how much any of them wanted to help, there was nothing they could've done but wait for him to die.

"I'm aware," Capo nodded, after a long moment. "But Mom isn't always gonna be around, is she? And neither will I."

Carlos paused for a few moments, shaking his head, his voice softening next as he spoke. "It'll be alright."

"Of course," Capo said, inclining his head. "I better get going."

"Yessir, I'll see you later!" Carlos grinned, his usual cheerful facade returning in an instant- as if it'd never been gone at all. "Good luck! Don't waste mom and dad's money by failing out!"

Capo only snorted- He never had, and never would while he was training on his parent's money.

Scooping his bag up from its usual spot, he ducked out the door. Capo was met with a wall of cold outside, wrapping his jacket tighter around his frame. Perhaps it'd be a bit warmer once he got out of the shade, and into the sunlight, quickly making his way to the sunnier path he typically took. He'd always liked how quiet it was in the mornings; with nobody around to bother him, it gave him time to think. It always felt like there was no room to think in his house, with its narrow halls and small room, and the dim lights which never quite lit rooms up all the way.

(He'd risked it all to free them, to get them out when they'd been forgotten time and time again by those in power. The Cohort, the Capitol, nobody ever remembered a lone family in an abandoned neighbourhood.)

(All Capo had done was take what should've been theirs all along- five doses of the vaccine, nothing more, nothing less. It's what the Cohort owed them- what the Capitol owed them.)

All Capo did was take what rightfully belonged to his family.

It wasn't long before Capo found himself at his stop, the streetcar arriving no more than a few minutes later. Capo quickly beelined for the same seat he took every day- towards the back, as people tended to crowd at the front. He tipped his temple against the window as they moved on, deeper into Two.

Soon enough the rocky hills and houses were replaced with buildings made of brick squeezed together, every inch of the city crammed with buildings, people, or sidewalks. It wasn't long before they were rolling to a stop, the roof of the Academy visible between the other buildings. Capo hadn't ever liked coming into the heart of the city, and now with training intensifying, he was there almost every day. It'd even crossed his mind once or twice that it'd be easier to just live in the Academy like a few of the trainers did- but there was no given option for students to do that.

Capo let out a deep sigh as he disembarked the streetcar, navigating up the front steps of the Academy. The crowds were large, with many younger kids lingering in groups around as they waited for their classes to begin. They huddled, talking in hushed tones- about this trainee, and that kid's scores, and oh did you see how badly she did in her trials last week? Capo had never been interested in any of that- any of the drama or interpersonal issues between other trainees. What happened behind closed doors was none of his business, after all.

Still, without caring- or even trying - Capo had heard things about Reign Legatus. About those who supported him even after his death- and those who didn't. It wasn't just his fellow trainees torn between the two sides, but practically all of District Two.

Capo couldn't care less, though; as far as he was concerned, Reign had it coming. He'd spent years running their District. How could all his terrible actions not inevitably catch up to him?

(It just made Reign's burn all the brighter as he fell)

Ducking through the front doors of the Academy, the crowds thinned significantly- thankfully, Capo never liked pushing through people to get where he needed to go. Winding his way through the halls, he quickly enough found the boy's locker room, locating his usual locker.

"Capo, hey man whatcha doin'?" A deeper, familiar voice asked loudly- and nearly right in his ear.

"Putting my stuff away," Capo responded, closing the locker to reveal the familiar, grinning face of Mylo. "Why?"

"You were late. I thought you weren't gonna show- and you never skip out, so that's concerning!"

"I see," Capo responded.

Mylo hadn't been training long. Many of the kids in Capo's group had taken up training later than was typical after the virus had wiped so many trainees out. The Academies were taking anything they could get, giving more kids who would've had no chance otherwise the opportunities to get into training programs.

"Yeah, yeah, so hey, do you wanna train with me 'n Teph today? I heard we're doing sparring since that tournament is coming up and I figured you'd be a great pick-"

"Sure," Capo said, cutting the other boy off. Mylo hadn't left Capo alone since arriving at the Academy- he was persistent, Capo could give him that. Still, that didn't mean Capo wanted to be included. It wasn't like he was here to make friends- he wouldn't have any friends in the Arena, after all. It would be all on his shoulders, to win- just like it always had been.

(Only one could win. Capo had every intention of giving every bit of his energy and being to the cause.)

"Okay, ready to go?" Mylo asked as Capo secured his daggers on his belt.

"Ready enough," Capo responded with a nod.

The pair made their way out of the locker room, Capo paying no mind to the others. He'd always steered clear of the old money kids, even though they'd never paid him much mind. After all, they were all too caught up in their own egos to even guess that some kid from a miner family could ever pose a threat to them.

But Capo had worked all his life for this harder than any of those kids ever could've. Because, unlike the other trainees, Capo wasn't trying to win for his family or fame or wealth or anything else.

Capo simply had to prove he could do it. For himself.

Tanwen Bast, 16.
District Twelve.

The rocks didn't have much to say, but Tanwen knew they never did.

With a deep sigh, they set their pickaxe down, wiping their sweaty hands on her pants. Taking a moment, to step back, Tanwen took in the whole stone face before her - they'd barely made a dent in all their hours of work, but she was only one kid, working in the dead of night while the rest of Twelve slept.

(Maybe this time, Tanwen would get lucky. Maybe this time, they'd break through, and her father would be standing on the other side.)

(Or maybe he'd be nothing but bones.)

Picking their pickaxe back up again, Tanwen began digging again- it was slow work, especially without the specialized explosives the miners used, but that wouldn't deter Tanwen. Bit by bit, she chipped away, loosening the rocks until she could pull at them with her hands. Casting the debris aside, Tanwen worked faster as more and more stones came loose.- and soon enough, between the cracks and crevices, she could see darkness.

As they pushed one last rock away, a wave of stale air washed over her. She let out a deep breath, picking their lantern up from where it sat on a nearby rock. Bringing the light closer helped them to see the real extent of the space- big enough she could crawl in and walk forwards in a crouch. Tanwen climbed through, carrying their lamp the whole way as they searched the cavern.

Turning their lamp up carefully, Tanwen quickly realized it was nothing- nothing but rocks. But, as their light brightened further, something caught her eye. Something metallic, buried halfway beneath a rock. Tanwen crept closer, carefully prying the metallic object out from under the rock.

Gingerly, she wiped it off on her shirt, squinting at it: a watch, with worn straps and a shattered glass face. Tanwen squinted harder, trying to make the numbers out, but the cracks made it far too hard to read- especially in the dim light.

But still, Tanwen couldn't help but feel the object in her hands was familiar- they'd seen it before, they knew it. But really, what were the chances of it being her father's?

There was only one way she knew how to answer that question.

(Tanwen was so close to something- answers, the knowledge that she'd been seeking for years, they could practically reach out and touch it.

All she had to do now was claim it.)

The route to the surface was one Tanwen had memorized years prior- a turn here and a split path there, and climb the scaffolding over to the left. Soon enough, she could feel the wind filtering down from the world above, and smell the unmistakable scent of fresh air. It was jarring, how different the air could be, and the longer they were below, the stranger it'd be coming up again. Tanwen had been under for nearly two weeks by now, and they'd never been particularly good at keeping track of the time. Tanwen's only concept of when to come up again was how much food and water they had left in their bag.

Nimbly, Tanwen ascended the scaffolding laid out before her, climbing hand over hand until they clambered onto a platform. It was early, too early for anybody to be there; even the earliest shifts hadn't yet started. Still, they'd be cautious, scanning over the area before running up the stairs nearby.

In no more than a few minutes, Tanwen found herself standing on the surface. They'd found that most of the old buildings had been abandoned, sealing up many to ensure people couldn't get in and out with ease. They didn't dare linger, though, even if it was abandoned; once the first shifts started, the entire place would be swarmed with workers.

Looping her fingers through the straps of their backpack, Tanwen set off, scrambling through a hole in the bottom of the wire fence and into the forest. It was early, the sun barely beginning to rise and beneath the canopy, it was still as dark as night. Tanwen liked it though- the darkness concealed her and eased their travel.

Tanwen had always found it odd how different everything was on the surface. Even though they'd lived aboveground for nearly fourteen years, it never felt familiar. Not the way the tunnels deep beneath the ground felt like home The underground beckoned to her whenever Tanwen left, whispering siren songs in their ears until they had no choice but to return.

(If it was her father's fate to be lost in the darkness, then it was Tanwen's fate to light the darkness, and find him.)

Soon enough, Tanwen was stumbling out of the trees and onto the road to town. It was a familiar one, although it was barely a road; really, it was nothing more than dirt and gravel, packed down solid by the hundreds of people who had walked over it. They didn't like following the road much, for risk of being seen, so Tanwen had considered following the forest a few times. However, the thought of getting lost in its twisting branches scared her more than anything the mines had ever thrown at them in two years.

And so, Tanwen stuck to the road- after all, her father had always told her not to wander in the forest alone.

(If only he could see his child now.)

It wasn't long before the trees began dropping away, giving way to grassy fields, sagging wooden fences lining their perimeters. Dotted along were even a few houses, all of their windows dark, their occupants still yet to start their days. The road took a sharp turn, and Tanwen suddenly found herself walking on cobblestones instead of dirt. The houses grew closer and closer together until soon enough, they weren't houses but shops.

It was only a few more minutes before the store Tanwen was looking for came into view- the building was old but maintained with care, with carefully trimmed plants in pots around the front door. She knew the route to Flynn's store like the back of her hand- they'd been taking it for years. They remembered their father sending her out with a list and money in hand to pick things up from his store as young as six or seven. Tanwen didn't approach the door, though, instead winding their way around the side, perching on top of the large dumpster in the dim alley.

Kicking their feet as she sipped from her water bottle, Tanwen waited. And waited, and waited. The rest of the world began to wake up, and Tanwen only watched as the citizens of Twelve began passing by their alleyway. None of them paid her any attention, just as Tanwen liked it.

The side door squealed. A familiar dark-haired man stepped out with garbage bags over his shoulder. Turning, his eyes went wide.

"Hey, kid, I was just wondering when you'd be back again," Flynn remarked, tossing the garbage on the ground in front of the dumpster. "Just here for the usual?"

"No," Tanwen spoke, her voice quiet with disuse.

"No?"

Tanwen shook their head. "I found something."

Flynn nodded, tapping his finger against his chin for a moment. "C'mon in then."

"Er- are you sure?"

"Very," Flynn insisted. "Come in out of the cold for a few minutes, Tanwen."

"Um… okay," Tanwen nodded, hopping down from her dumpster perch. She trailed a few steps behind Flynn, letting the door slam shut behind them.

Tanwen had always liked being in the store- when it was empty of people, at least. Thankfully, the store was mostly deserted, save for a lone girl behind the single till at the front. It gave them the chance to gawk at the expensive, fresh produce they could only dream of being able to afford.

They didn't get much more of a chance to gawk, though, as Flynn led her toward the back. They stepped into a narrow hallway hidden in the back corner of the store; pushing a door along it open, Flynn held it for Tanwen, who ducked in. The office she found herself in was small and dingy, but well-kept otherwise.

"Grab a seat, kid," Flynn grunted, gesturing towards the pair of chairs shoved against the wall, opposite the small desk. Tanwen did as they were told, folding her hands in her lap.

"So, what did you find?"

"This," Tanwen responded, pulling their shirt sleeve up to reveal the slightly oversized watch. "Do you recognize it?"

Flynn grunted, narrowing his eyes. "Mind if I take a closer look?"

Tanwen slid the brass watch off their wrist and held it out to Flynn. He gently took it from her, turning it over in his hands.

"I think I might. Do you recognize it?"

"Seem familiar," Tanwen shrugged. "There's hundreds of watches like it in Twelve though. It could be anybody's, but-"

"You just hope it's your fathers," Flynn finished their sentence, sliding the watch across the desk to her. "I see. Have you found anything else down there?"

"No," Tanwen responded. "I found it yesterday, and came here today."

"I see. Good timing. The Reapings are tomorrow-"

"Tomorrow?" Tanwen muttered. "Not next week?"

Flynn shook his head. "Tomorrow."

Tanwen sighed deeply, scratching their face. They planned on returning as quickly as possible to continue their search. She was so close. She knew this watch would lead them to what they'd been searching for, knew that this was the piece they needed. Extending their stay on the surface was the last thing they wanted- not when the depths called them.

Not when their father called her- called her to find him, to bring him home after all the years he'd been gone.

"I have to go back," Tanwen declared firmly.

"You can't. After the Reapings, sure. Why don't you stay over tonight? It's been a while- the kids have been asking how you are."

"No thank you," Tanwen declined. "I have to go back."

"'Wen, I know you want to go back. But I'm not even sure that's your father's. I might have something at home that could help me figure it out," Flynn responded. "You can stay over tonight and go to the Reapings tomorrow, and then return tomorrow night, okay? It's not like I can just run home right now anyways, so you'd be stuck here all day waiting for me either way."

Tanwen sighed, sinking deeper into their chair. It didn't matter what she did; she'd still be stuck here all day. And there was no way she'd have enough time to get to the mines and back again before the Reapings- they increased security across the whole District on Reaping Day, and even her best routes in and out of the pits would be risky.

One more day. One more day and she would have her answers.

"Okay," Tanwen relented, bobbing her head. "That's fine."

Flynn flashed her a tired grin. "Good. Now, how about you help out while you're here? Shelves aren't gonna stock themselves. I'll throw in some money for you…"

They could wait one more day. Just one more day and Tanwen would know the truth.

(One more day, which would make all the difference in the world.)