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Chapter Text

Quick. Quiet. Efficient.

That's how Vi learned to move through these woods.

If she didn't want her family to starve, then she needed to be able to hunt outside the borders without getting her ass caught by Peacekeepers.

She kept low as she moved, swift, nimble, practiced. Leaves crunched almost inaudibly as she went, searching. There. In the distance. A small doe. The first game that was bigger than a rabbit that she has seen in a long time. She tried not to let hope make its home in her and slowly raised her bow, arrow in hand. She aimed, blows pink hair so dirty its almost red out of her face, but when she fired the arrow uselessly bounced off the boulder next to the deer, who scurried away.

Damn it.

She could still hear the doe moving, so she did not pity her loss for too long. Picking up a few leaves, she crumpled them in the wind. Not wanting to lingerie further, she took of as silently asd she could, following the rustle of the doe.
Vi spotted a fallen tree, leaning against another. Vi quickly scaled it, scanning the wood around her. She easily spotted it.

This was her chance. Her eyes narrowed in, her hands nocked her bow, aiming carefully. She took a deep breathe, focused, and-

“What are you gonna do with that when you kill it?”

Vi flinches and the arrow goes askew, a solid 20 feet from its mark as the doe turns and runs. Annoyance immediately surges through her, and she whips around to the source of the sound.

“Damn it, Gert,” Vi says, her blood boiling.

What greets her is the sight of said girl, not even 10 feet behind her, an obnoxious grin covering her face. Vi rolls her eyes, slinging her bow over herself with a huff. Gert spins with the shove, and with a laugh says, “What are you going to do with a hundred pound deer, Violin? It's Reaping Day, the place is crawling with Peacekeepers.” She steps closer, her feet landing heavily down the hill they were on. She takes an arrow, inspecting it.

Vi snatches the arrow back. “I was gonna sell it, to some Peacekeepers,” she says stubbornly. Gert raises an eyebrow.

“Of course you were.”

She studies Gert. “Oh, like you dont sell to Peacekeepers.” She thinks the incredulous look that crosses Gerts face is hilarious, but she holds her laugh.

“No, not today.” Vi snorts

Her smile falls. “It's the first deer I've seen in a year,” she admits, somewhat ashamed. She felt it was her job to provide her small, hungry family and she could barely do that. She knew deep down that it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't help the pit in her stomach every time she thought about it. “And now I have nothing.”

It was silent, and Gert studied her for a moment. Vi can feel her gaze on her, and she clenches a fist. She felt like she could feel the pity radiating, and she hates it, but she doesn't want to explode at the wrong person. It wasnt Gerts fault that she was the sole provider for her family.

After what feels like minutes but was probably a single one, Gert says, matter-of-factly, “Okay.” She bends down as she walks around Vi, picking up a stone. She tosses it in her hand a few times as she surveys the thick foliage above them, and she chucks it into the branches.

Recognizing what she's doing, Vi has already whipped ehr bow off and nocked another arrow, and the moment a flock of birds startles into the air, she's already ready and realizes the arrow.

Bullseye.

A bird falls from the sky, and Vi can't help the smirk that plasters her face. As much as she prefers using her fists, using her bow has helped her through her life more than she can explain.

They look at each other, and almost have a silent conversation. There's almost a twinkle in Gerts eye, she knows how to restore Vi’s confidence, and she can't help but be grateful for that.

After a split second, they both break and laugh.

Once they quiet down, they both look at their surroundings, once again in silence, but this time it's an empty silence.

“I want to get out of here.” Gert breaks it.

Vi almost feels a physical pain at how much she agrees. She settles to hum in agreement, before saying. “What about my sister? Your brothers.” Gert looks at her.

“They could come with us.” Vi could almost imagine it, and for a few seconds, she allowed herself to. She closes her eyes, and pictures it.

She could take Powder, go somewhere else. Keep her safe, not have to worry for her every waking moment. It's so unrealistic that a scowl almost breaks onto her face. “We all have dreams.”

Gert is still looking at her, and there's something unreadable in her face. Vi turns and starts walking, ignoring it. Gert follows.

They walk in relative silence for a minute, bumping shoulders, before they both stop at the sound of a low wiring. They look at each other confused, but realization sets in. Vi’s eyes shoot back to the sky and she subconsciously steps closer to her friend.

Through the foliage they can see an airship slowly make its way over. Not wanting to be spotted, they start moving back towards town. Almost on autopilot, they crouch and make a run for it, not wanting to risk being spotted and having some horrible punishment inflicted.

Today is Reaping Day after all.

Clack, clack, clack.

The sound of chunky heels on the uneven pavement. A woman wearing makeup - so much you could barely see the beautiful, gold marks that contrast her skin tone so lovely running along her skin - clacks her way down the empty road, observing with a pleasant look on her face. She wears a ridiculous, flashy outfit holding an umbrella in a matching, horrifying pink color.

She visits District 12 - her district almost, she sometimes thinks with a snobbish smirk - once a year. She always has such a wonderful time, she does enjoy coming back every year, witnessing how the children have grown year after year.

She's done this long enough that she notices the small ones she's seen held in arms of parents one year lined up with other children hardly a decade later. Long enough that she seems teens grow to age out of the games and become parents, and watch their young ones finally participate in these wonderful games.

She walks down the cobble path, watching the preparations be made. She sees a worker washing off the steps to the stage. She sees a woman setting up the tables where the children check it. Another on the stage, setting out the bowls from which she will draw in meer hours.

Yes, she does see this as her district, and she does love visiting every year with the honor of announcing this year's tributes. She continues down her path, a smile on her face.

Chapter Text

Vi enters her home. It's small. The door creaks open, and she can hear her sister and mother in the other room.

“Mom.” Powder says from the kitchen, a quiet voice.

“Aw, look at you,” Vi says, pride in her voice, before her mother can respond. She approaches her sister and kneels, noticing the persistent frown on Powder's face. “Better tuck in that tail, Little Duck.”

Reaching around her sister, she tucks the back of her shirt into the long skirt her sister wore. Vi looked up and smiled, but Powder did not return it. The older could feel the pure anxiety radiating off of her, and she couldn't blame her.

Powder had just turned 12, which meant that her name would finally be in the bowl. It was a year Vi had been dreading since she had been old enough to understand. Vi finished adjusting the outfit, but before she could stand her mother finally spoke.

“I laid something out for you, too,” her mother said, her voice meek, quiet. Vi looked over her shoulder at her, her smile gone. She studied her mother. The older woman had bags under her eyes, her hair was messy and her shoulders hunched.

Looking back at Powder and pretending to continue adjusting the shirt, she didn't say anything for just a moment. Long enough that Powder looked down at her from their mother, and Vi knew she was analyzing her. She was smart like that.

Finally muttering an “Okay,” she stood and smiled at her sister, a smile that was weaker than before.

Scrubbing every inch of her body, almost as if trying to scrub her skin off, to get rid of the nasty anxiety that always came with this day. She repeated the same mantra to herself that she always did on Reaping Day.

There are hundreds of names in that bowl.

She won't be picked.

Even if her name is in that bowl 23 times.

23 times they were so starved for food she had to add to her chances of being Reaped.

Powder won't be picked.

She's only in there once.

There's no way.

Vi stopped her insistent scrubbing at the thought. It's statistically impossible for Powder to be picked. So why was she so scared? A shiver ran up her spine. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Vi shook her head, clearing the nerve wracking thoughts from her head.

She finished cleaning herself, scooping water from the small bath to clear the dirt from her hair as best she could.

Walking into her room, she dried her hair with the towel, she observed the outfit laid on the bed before her. It was a relief that her mother did not put out a dress for her, despite the fact she was really supposed to, likely knowing how itchy and uncomfortable they made her.

In front of her was a plain gray-blue, thin button up and a simple pair of pants. Discarding her towel, she wrapped her chest and dressed, staring at herself in her cracked mirror as she buttoned up the shirt. Vi shook her hair out and took a deep breath.

Her mother stood behind her as Vi stared into the long mirror in front of her, finishing styling her hair. Pinned out of her face, and making sure it was neatly parted away from the shaved side of her head. Her mom smiled at her, though it was devoid of any happiness.

“Now you look beautiful, too,” She said in her raspy voice. Powder huff behind her.

“Wish I looked like you.” Powder sunk her chin into her hands that were propped on her knees from where she sat on the couch. Vi smirked and rolled her eyes, and turned as she made her way over to her sister.

“Oh, no,” She said and sat with her sister. “I wish I looked like you, Little Duck.” She wraps her arm around Powder, and ruffles her hair.

Before anyone can get another word in, a loud train whistle sounds. Vi knows that the warning that it's time to start making their way there. She stands, and gives her mother a look. Her mother looks back, and her eyes are devoid of much emotion. This is Vi's fifth year, and her mother does not have much concern left to give.

“Come here,” Vi mutters as she pulls Powder into a hug. She squeezes her hard, trying to convey the emotion she feels. She hopes Powder understands. Vi releases her, and grabs her hand. “Let's get this over with.”

Herds of children walk through the muddy town square. Boys and girls, ages ranging from a young, innocent 12, to a hardened, angry 18. Vi walks with the crowd, basically pulling Powder with her. Her eyes scan over all the people. Everyone is wearing plain, bland clothes. The brightest color she can see is some muted reds and blues, but most are in off whites and beiges. Some girls are lucky enough to have floral embroidery on the hems off their dresses, likely their mothers doing, and they would be lucky to have someone who was not just a coal miner in their family.

That is what District 12 is known for. The outskirts of Piltover, the only use they serve to their country is providing literal tons of coal. Vi scoffs. She sometimes wished that she was born in District 1 or 2, or even 4. Though no District would ever reach the status of the Capitol, those districts got closer than the rest of Piltover could ever hope for.

District 1 produced luxury goods, clothing, makeup, jewelry, all that good stuff. They might not get to keep any, but the profit from it kept them better off than most. District 2 was responsible for weaponry, maybe not as profitable as the former, but profitable nonetheless.

Vi shook her head, silently reprimanding herself for her wandering thoughts. There were more important things to worry about right now, like how Powders grip on her hand tightened. The young girl had stopped moving, and as the crowd of children around them continued to flow, Vi’s eyes darted around for the source of the problem.

That's when she spotted the check-in station, where others were getting their fingers picked to draw a bit of blood for identification.

Vi whipped her head back to Powder, and her heart clenched at the terrified look on her face.

“You didn't- You never said-,” the young girl started hyperventilating, unable to get the words out as her thoughts clearly flew faster than her mouth could speak.

Vi pulled her closer and crouched to her height. She put a hand on her cheek and tried to comfort her, looking around, hoping a Peacekeeper wouldn't notice the hold up and take it as an invitation to throw her little sister around.

“Hey, hey, I know, okay, I'm sorry I didn't warn you.” Vi made sure her sister looked her in the eye when she said, “I promise it doesn't hurt that much, you barely feel it. It's like a little prick, okay?”

Vi could see the tears welling in Powder's eyes, and thought to herself that she needed to get her sister moving quickly before someone found an issue.

“Here, just get through that, and then go and sit with the other kids okay? I'll find you right after, I promise.” Powder's terrified eyes looked to her, and Vi squeezed her hand and gave her a small kiss on the forehead before she had to pull Powder along with more force than she would have liked.

She gave a gentle push in the right direction before she had to go to check herself in on the opposite end of the lines of tables. Vi got into line, and her fingers tapped her side, apprehension filling her by the second.

She tried to keep her eyes on Powder, and watched as she exited her line and followed those in front of her, looking unsure.

“Next.” a bored voice called. Vi jerked her eyes back, and she took her time, the smallest bit of defiance she could show without retribution. The lady who called out narrowed her eyes, her gaze unwavering. “Next!” She said, annoyance clear in her tone.

It was finally her turn.

Vi stepped up to the table, and put her hand up. The lady forcefully grabbed it, and flipped her hand to grab her finger. Vi held back a wince as her finger was pricked and smushed against the paper.

The lady held a scanner to the blood, and a green “Violet Lanes” flashed on the little screen before she was practically shoved forward by a shitty Peacekeeper next to the table, who she scowled at before she turned her head to scan the crowd for her Powder, barley registering the grating “Next!” that was shouted from next to her.

Vi’s eyes darted around looking for the stark blue hair she loves so much, but they didn't find any. Vi’s searching turns frantic, and she's being slowly pushed forward by the crowd until she is in place lined up with the other girls her age.

Panic starts to seize her, and though she knows realistically there is nothing that could have happened to her sister, she cant help the voice in the back of her head that tells her something horrible, and she swears to whoever's listening that she's going to-

Gert catches her eye from a few rows behind her. The dark-haired woman gestures with her head, and Vi follows her line of sight to where Powder is standing with other 12-year-old girls, looking on the verge of tears, but otherwise unharmed.

Vi holds back a sigh of relief, and turns to face the front. She begins to feel silly, but rolls her shoulders, shaking off whatever anxiety she felt.

The crowd quieted, and all that could be heard was the rustle of nervous side stepping and the vocal murmur from where the adults stood all the way in the back. Vi couldn't help but look subtle at Gert again, who gave a dry smile and mouthed an “It's okay” to her. Vi nodded and set her shoulders, taking a deep breath.

Suddenly someone tapped the microphone on the stage, and a few people jumped.

Vi simply narrowed her eyes at the ridiculously dressed, dark-skinned woman on stage, who she recognized from last year, and the year before, and the year before. She was thin and tall and had curves, but they were almost hidden by an obnoxious pink dress and matching headpiece that was probably the ugliest thing Vi had ever seen.

“Welcome! Welcome, welcome,” she said, almost singing, her smile apparent in her voice. “Happy Hunger Games, and, may the odds be ever in your favor.” She plastered a huge smile on her face, and Vi wasn't sure if the fact that it seemed genuine made her feel better or worse.

Definitely worse.

“Before we begin, we have a very special film, brought to you all the way from the Capitol!” Vi swears she hears a few people groan, and she resists the urge to do it herself. An awful fanfare blasts from the speakers, and Vi is not sure if it's the volume or the fanfare itself that hurts her ears.

She looks at Gert again, can't help herself, and as expected, Gert has a goofy, toned-down grin on her face as she mouths the words, “War, terrible war.” Just moments before a gravelly voice says those same words.

Through the whole short film, Vi rocks on the balls of her feet, waiting for it to be over. This part was almost worse than the Reaping itself, just because of how horribly boring it was.

As the film went on, it was their president's voice lamenting about history and how the war tore the nation apart and supposedly why the Capitol continues with the game, even though most who were alive during the war are long dead. He even talks of how merciful the Capitol is for allowing a victor to remain after each game, showering them in riches as if it made up for what they put children through.

Vi rolled her eyes as it came to an end, and glanced at Powder. She, along with many other 12-year-olds, were the only ones truly watching the film, as they had never seen it before.

“I just love that,” the woman on stage said, a cheeky smile on her face, hands by her chest in excitement. “Now,” she said matter-of-factly, “the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the 74th annual Hunger Games.”

For some reason, the way she enunciated every word irked the hell out of Vi, but she just settled for rolling her eyes once again, holding her hands behind her.

“As usual,” the woman started from the right side of the stage. “Ladies first.” The clack of her shoes echoed in the dead silence.

She slowly lowered her hand into the massive fish bowl of names, making a show of waving her hand around, fluttering over papers, before plucking one from the top.

The woman took her time making her way back to the microphone, holding the paper for everyone to see, and slowly unfolded it. Anxiety coursed through Vi once again, as it did every year right before a name was announced, and as she was sure most of those around her were feeling.

Clearing her throat, the very colorful woman took an obnoxious breath and announced loudly, “Powder Lanes!”

Everything stopped.

Vi could not take a breath if she tried, but she didn't want to try.

Because if she tried to breathe, then that would mean she was alive.

And if she was alive, she would be here right now.

And if she was here right now, that would mean her damn sisters name was just called at the Reaping holy fucking shit-

Vi couldn't look up, eyes wide and mouth agape in horror. Absolute horror. Her gaze was stuck on the girl in front of her, and she could feel the stare of those around her who knew that was her sister.

In the corner of her eye she could see the crowd part around her sister, as the awful voice said, “Where are you dear? Oh! Come on up.”

Vi finally looked up, and saw Powder slowly making her way to the middle aisle, not crying. Not looking scared. She just looked… frozen. As she took step after step, Vi saw her subtly tuck her shirt in in the back, and for some reason that was the bucket of cold water on her.

She whipped her head back to her mother, and the woman could not look more dissociated. Turning back, eyes still wide, Vi started stumbling through the crowd, on auto-pilot, and no one she shoved said a word. Vi felt herself start to yell more than consciously did it.

“Powder!” She called out, disbelief leaking through her voice. “Powder,” she said, more desperate this time. Powder looked back at her, startled.

“Powder!” Peacekeepers were there, and they gripped her arm so tight it hurt, blocking from moving forward as she tried to stumble through.

As soon as they were on her, it was like reality truly set in. Suddenly she had flashes of what she had seen in past games.

Kids hit over the head with bricks. Throats sliced. People torn apart by animals. Children drowning children.

Then suddenly it was Powder in their place in her head, and Vi couldn't help how hysterical she became. How angry.

She struggled against the arms around her, throwing her elbows out. “I volunteer!” Vi shrieked. “I volunteer!”

The hold on her immediately loosened, and she threw the men off her, and stood, certain of herself with a sneer on her face. In this moment all that mattered was keeping Powder safe, keeping her away. It was as if even the Peacekeepers couldn't believe her.

There was no murmur of the crowd, the silence was not broken. But she could feel the widened eyes and surprised expressions all around her.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Chapter Text

The woman on the stage is stunned.

“Uh, I- I believe we have a volunteer!” She sounds confused, but that's not what Vi is focused on. Her eyes lock onto her sister, and she immediately runs for her and takes her into her arms, holding on for dear life. Vi buries her face into Powder's hair, and she can feel sobs start to rise from the child.

Vi grabs her by the shoulders and gets close to her face.

“Powder, you need to get out of here.” She immediately protests. “No, no, no,” starts to come through sobs from the teary child as Vi says over her, “You need to get out of here. Go find mom, Powder, go find mom. I’m so sorry.”

Tears flood Vi’s eyes and she can hardly see the distressed look she knows is on her sister's face as she chants “no” over and over.

“Powder, leave,” Vi’s voice cracks. She sees Gert rush out from the crowd towards them, and she pushes Powder into her friend's arms.

Gert hauls Powder up with a soothing “Come on”, but Powder doesn't hear it. She screams as Gert walks away, reaching for her sister.

Vi steels her face, closing her eyes as she tries to ignore the desperate cries of her sister. They eventually fade, and Vi is left standing with Peacekeepers surrounding her.

The soldiers crowd her and start to usher her towards the stage, hands hovering over the small of her back, but Vi sneers whenever one of the brushes her. All she can feel is rage. Her blood is boiling.

“Yes, well, District 12’s very first… volunteer,” the Capitol woman says, stressing the word in a way Vi cannot decipher.

The girl looks at the woman. She can't bring herself to feel fear for what this means for her, but she knows that at any moment it will set in. Vi clenches her fist at her side as she walks upon the staircase, almost dizzy.

Nothing feels real.

The woman bends over slightly towards Vi and gestures her fingers for Vi to hurry up. “Come on, dear.”

She grabs Vi by the shoulders the moment Vi takes the last step, and Vi has to physically resist shoving her off. The last thing she needs is Peacekeepers all over her.

The woman takes her to the microphone and plants her right in front of it. She takes it for a moment to say, “What's your name?”

Vi can see Powder being cradled in her mothers arms, so close, yet infinitely far.

“Violet Lanes,” she uttered, sounding as numb as she was beginning to feel, the rage simmering away in exchange for something almost worse.

“Well,” the woman says, almost a giggle in her voice. “I'll bet my hat that was your sister, right?”

“Yes,” she almost whispers.

“Let's have a hand for our very first ever volunteer, Violet Lanes!” The older woman claps a few times in quick succession, but not a single person joins her. It's as silent as it was before Powder's name was drawn.

Vi can't help but look over the crowd. There were plenty of familiar faces, although none were comforting. They all stared back, almost sad. Vi looked down at her feet, not wanting to show how vulnerable she felt.

Slowly, the children put three fingers to their lips, and raised them high into the air. First a few older ones. Then eventually most of the children had done so, still incredibly silent. Not a single word uttered as they showed their sympathy, their quiet, helpless solidarity.

The woman started next to her, slightly disturbed, almost yanked the microphone from in front of Vi. “And now,” she sounded less cheery now, thankfully. “For the boys.”

Oh, yeah.

Now they had to do this all over again. Though Vi highly doubted the same ordeal would occur. As the woman had said, Vi was District 12’s first volunteer. Ever.

The extravagant woman made much less of a show of it this time. She walked with purpose to the other side of the stage where the boys’ bowl was, and reached her hand in to dig around for a moment before pulling one quickly.

Almost rushing back to the microphone, she quickly announced the name, and Vi vaguely registered her announcing a boy she knew of, though had never talked to. Claggor, she thinks. She sees the crowd part again for this boy, the same age as her.

There's a buzz amongst the quiet crowd, almost as if waiting to see if someone would volunteer for him. But alas, no such thing.

In the hush of the atmosphere, Vi can hear the crunch of gravel as he is escorted up to the podium.

She glances up to look at him as he approaches, and the poor boy looks petrified. Eventually he made his way to the stage, looking almost as horrible as Vi felt.

“Here we are!” That voice was beginning to become irritating, but Vi couldn’t do anything other than stare blankly. “Our tributes from district 12.” She paused, as if waiting for applause.

She didn't get any.

“Well, go on you two, shake hands.” She said after an awkward moment, grabbing their elbows and pulling them together. Vi shook her hand off, and looked at the boy in front of her.

He wasn't very tall, but he was built pretty well. She had seen him working in the bakery in town, throwing sacks of flour over his shoulder and such.

He looked terrified in front of her, and they both slowly reached out and shook hands. He was clammy, and his grip was strong, but not in a good way.

They slowly turned back to the crowd, and the woman said, proudly to the crowd, “Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

She turned them around by the shoulder, and ushered them back to the door at the back of the stage. They filed through, and then that was it.

Vi bites her nails, waiting in a bland room. There is a couch and a table with flowers, and the window overlooks the dispersing crowd of the town square.

She gazes out of it, finding herself wishing that she was among them for once. She can almost see it.

She would have that nasty feeling in the gut, but it would be fine because she would find Powder and they would walk slowly back to their home, and they would talk about what Powder just experienced.

It would be hard, but it would be just another Reaping. Another boy and girl they hardly knew would be carted off to the Capitol, and a few days later Vi would sit with her mother and watch them be slaughtered, as District 12 tributes were every year.

Vi never thought she would wish for those days, but here she is. Alone.

Waiting to be carted off to the Capitol.

Suddenly the door bursts open, and Powder flies into her arms, tears flowing down her cheeks.

The girl pulls back to look at her, and Vi crouches down.

“Just try to win,” the little blue-haired girl says, her voice cracking. “Maybe you can.” Vi puts her hand on her cheek, trying to comfort her.

Vi wants to stay strong, doesn't want her sister to see the pit in her stomach, so she holds back her tears as she whispers, “Of course.” She fiddles with her sister's long braid and says, “Maybe I can, I am smart, y’know.” And gives her a small smile.

“You can hunt,” Powder says hesitantly.

“Exactly,” Vi says, and her eyes unfocused as she processes what this means.

Killing people for her own survival. As much as the thought makes her queasy, it will be the only way to come back to her sister.

After a moment, Vi pulls Powder into a tight hug, and relishes in her warmth for just a moment more before her mother catches her eye from behind her.

Vi stands and walks over there, keeping her voice low and stern as she says, “You can't tune out again.”

Her mother looks stunned before she says breathily, “I won't.”

Vi barely lets her finish before she says “No,” with finality in her voice. “You can't, not like when dad died.”

There is something painful in her expression.

“I won't be there anymore, you're all she has.” The older woman began shaking her head, almost in disbelief. “No matter what you feel, you have to be there for her, do you understand?”

She nodded her head, a jerky movement, and observed Vi with a sadness that Vi had not seen in a long time. Her mothers eyes began to well up, and her lip quivered.

At that moment Vi saw her mother again, in a way that she had not in a long time. “Don't cry,” she said, and hesitated before pulling her mother into a hug almost as tight as the one she gave to Powder. “Don't cry. Don’t, don’t-” Vi couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes that she had to blink away.

Her mother may have been absent for a long time, but Vi couldn't blame her. Vi still loved her mother just as much as Powder, and she couldn't imagine how the woman felt losing someone so important to her once again.

The door burst open, and a Peacekeeper stomped in saying, “That's enough time.” Powder started yelling again, diving into Vi’s side, and Vi held on for dear life as her baby sister was pulled away.

Vi tried shouting words of comfort, but they were overshadowed by her sister's cries for her until she shouted, “I promise Powder!” and the door slammed shut and Vi was left on her own in silence once again, staring at the door.

A thought occurred to her, and she couldn't help but try the door, and it was unlocked. Vi wasn't sure what she was trying to do, so she opened it, barely, and peeked out. All she saw was the sliver of a few Peacekeepers, and she shut the door before she couldn't see more, nerves getting the nest of her.

The door barely had time to fully close before it swung open again, Gert sliding into the room and shutting the door before Vi could say anything.

Gert pulled her into an embrace, and Vi couldn't help but bury her head into her friend's shoulder.

“I'm fine,” Vi mutters.

“I know.”

“Really, I'm fine.” Almost like she was trying to convince herself.

After a minute Gert pulls away, and looks her in the eye.

“Remember, you're stronger than they are,” Gert assures her. “You are. Get to a bow.”

Vi feels panic once again at the thought of what's to come, and as much as she hates thinking about it she knows that it is a necessary thought.

“They may not have -” Before she can finish her thought Gert interrupts.

“They will if you show them how good you are.” She is sure in her words. “They just want a good show, that's all they want. And if they don't have a bow then you make one, okay, you know how to hunt.”

Gert's gaze is unwavering, and Vi stares at her, mouth agape. A moment later she finds the words. “Yeah, animals.”

Gert looks sad as she almost whispers, “It's no different, Vi.”

It makes Vi feel queasy, and she can't help but argue.

“There's 24 of us, Gert, only one of us comes out.”

“Yeah,” Gert looks sure of herself, and puts a firm hand on Vi’s shoulder. “And it's gonna be you.”

They stare at each other for a moment, but the door opens once again. “Okay,” a maskless Peacekeeper interrupts, his face unpleasant. “Let's go.”

Vi yanks Gert back into a hug, and insists, “Take care of them, Gert, please, don't let them starve.

A dejected, “I won't,” sounds as she is pulled from the room. “I'll see you soon, okay?” Gert points at her over the Peacekeeper's shoulder, and then for the umpteenth time, it's silent.

The silence is going to be the end of Vi.