Archive of Our Own

Sheera knew the green fields well, and she had learned to prefer it over anything else. 

Especially on days like these, when it wasn’t too hot, when the breeze carried through the meadow and tousled her hair like it rustled the grasses and wildflowers. 

Meanwhile, the others were cooped up in the dairy house, missing the wonderful weather outside. It would only be an hour or so until they were let out for the day. 

Not too far away, her mother was occupied with one of the orphaned calves, struggling to settle him down enough to put a bottle in its mouth. His mother had rejected him after birth, and so the rest of them made sure the poor thing was taken care of in the meantime.

“Come on, Sheera.” She snapped. “Get over here before the calf kicks me again.”

“Right, okay.” She rushed over to help. It took a minute, but eventually the calf calmed down enough to be fed. 

It was hard work, but it was better than having to face the truth head on. 

=====

Soon enough, the fields echoed with the dozen or so children that lived in their little village as they left the dairy house in scattered clumps.

She hid from them, laying low in the meadow by the fence while they walked on, oblivious, she knew that if even one of them saw her, she risked at least ten minutes of unwanted comments thrown her way.

She had tried to find friends, sure. There were at least a dozen there to choose from, so surely one of them would be friends with her? 

Selene was quiet like her, but she had the advantage of confidence, and actually being smart. She was above everyone, and would especially be above Sheera. 

Tanya was the one who made it clear to her that she didn’t belong. At one point, Sheera and Tanya had been friends, but then… Sheera wasn’t sure when it happened. Tanya had promised she’d stay, through thick and thin, but then less than a year later treated her like a stranger. 

As the remaining village children got younger, Sheera knew them less and less, since she had stopped attending lessons before many of kids had even started them. 

Elana and Elara did not have many friends, but they were also twins, and stuck to each other so often instead. 

And Aden… He originally was a kid who was picked on by the others, being pushed around and chased, teased, insulted. Sheera took it upon herself to try and protect him, or at least check in after to make sure he was okay.

But somewhere between there and now, he changed. Suddenly, he was leading the other kids against her, and throwing vicious insults when he could. She wasn’t sure when. A part of her worried it might have been something she herself had done. 

Even Forie, her own sister, was treating her like this. While they got along fine within their own home, time and time again Sheera would find herself being left behind, and Forie would stand by, defenses left unspoken whenever the others would pick on her.

With a sigh, she retreated back into the field.

=======

Sheera supposed a part of her always wondered what would happen if her name had been called on reaping day.

Only one other member of her community had gone into the games during her entire life. Sheera had been just a young child, and Lyra had been younger than Sheera was now. 

They had been inconsolable. The wailing carried long into the night and then the next morning. It returned again a week later, once she fell to the boy from District 2. She had never been that close to Lyra, but Forie was, and seeing her sister so distraught was enough for Sheera to cry alongside the rest. 

She should have checked on stage for their reaction. She should have found their faces in the crowd to look for any sort of hint that they cared. She knew most of them had visited Lyra to say goodbye, but this was taking too long. 

Her parents and sister arrived, and she spent far too long being distracted by the worry that she barely let herself embrace them, barely cherished them for the last time like she needed to. She barely resisted the urge to beg for more time when she realized. And then they were out the door, and the regret ate her alive.

She waited. And waited.

No one else came to visit her. 

=======

The train felt awfully clammy, leaving Sheera to wish she had brought a sweater with her, despite how unbearably hot it had been outside. 

Meanwhile, her district partner threw himself onto a nearby couch, sighing with enough force to earn an unamused glance from the escort, Auspex. Sheera had barely paid attention to him at the reaping, still in too much of a daze to process anything else Auspex had been saying at that point. Now, she felt too awkward to ask what his name was, and could only guess as to any other information about him. He seemed close to her age, maybe a year younger, but besides that, she struggled to narrow down anything else. 

“You know,” Auspex finally said after a brief pause, “If I were you two, I would stop with the miserable attitudes and show some gratitude for this opportunity.”

The boy scoffed. “What are you even talking about? What opportunity?”

“Well, many opportunities in fact! To be on national television, to see new locations, to have the honor of entering the Hunger Games! I don’t understand why more children aren’t grateful.”

The boy on the couch did not respond to that, only glaring at the escort until Auspex made a pitiful noise and excused himself to the nearby bar table. It was only then that her district partner did anything else, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement before sitting up to look out the window of the train.  

They were joined several minutes later by the two victors, who notably did not look at them as they sat at the table. It took until the tea was served until Chilver gave them a glance, but even she did not speak. 

Sheera wasn’t sure what to expect. Since she only ever attended reapings and mandatory viewings of the games, she had seen very little of the victors of District 10. Brandall especially so, as he won his games before she was even born, games which she had never seen. Because of this, Sheera could only go off of how he acted at reapings and how he was acting now. And to be honest, Sheera found him somewhat intimidating. She couldn’t recall a single instance of him ever looking at someone with kindness, or doing anything besides looking either arrogant or cruel. 

Chilver, meanwhile, was the exact opposite. She won at twelve years old, during the 90th games, when Sheera was still a child. This had been eight years ago, so Sheera didn’t remember it well, but she did recall that the girl had been taken in by an alliance, who had protected her for most of the games, through to the end. Her remaining ally’s sacrifice left her a rare pacifist victor, and the others seemed to speak of her much more fondly than they did of Brandall. 

Finally, Brandall stood. 

“Well, you two have seemed pretty composed so far. Maybe you do have a chance.” 

“It was a test?” her district partner asked. 

“Kind of.” Chilver sighed. “It was Brandall’s idea.”

“You.” Brandall pointed to Sheera. “What can you do?” 

Sheera was at a loss for words. Brandall sighed impatiently. 

“Okay. I guess I'll mentor Chantecler, then.”

“You haven’t even asked me anything!” said Chantecler. At least Sheera knew his name, now.

“You’re actually talking, which is leagues better than her. Besides, if you know what’s good for you, you’d be thrilled to wind up with me. Are you thrilled?”

“Oh, yeah, totally!” Chantecler was lying, she could see it in his eyes. 

Chilver rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. The girl’s with me then.”

==========

It wasn’t until that night that they were able to discuss strategy.

Time escaped them, really. Between the reaping recaps and dinner, Chantecler struck conversation with basically everyone there, everyone besides Sheera at least. He always had a comment for everything, and even though he and Brandall were in a mentorship, they seemed about two seconds away from a fight at all times, hidden behind empty smiles. 

As for Chantecler, well, he hadn’t exactly been mean towards her, but he hadn’t been particularly nice, either. Though he asked her here and there for her opinion, her lack of a satisfactory response eventually made him give up altogether. Now, Sheera wasn’t expecting to ally with her district partner; she knew that it was possible for district partners to win together since a few decades ago, but it still felt like too much of a risk for her. What if he found out she couldn’t read that well, or that she wasn’t great at remembering anything? Would he abandon her? Kill her?

No, her best option was to make it on her own. Although the idea seemed daunting at first, she was beginning to get used to it. She was strong thanks to years of hauling around bags of feed, fast from running around all day with the cattle dogs, and very, very used to the outdoors. 

What she wasn’t used to was the train, or this fancy meal, or the four strangers around her bickering about some nonsense she had long since lost track of. 

“Okay.” Chilver tried once again to steer the conversation back to the original topic. “Did anyone stand out to you as a potential ally?”

“I dunno….” Chantecler drew out. “Eight, maybe? Nine?”

“And you?” She turned to Sheera.

She was too ashamed to admit she already forgot most of the other tributes. She shook her head instead. 

Chilver gestured vaguely to them, “Well, you could always ally with each other. That way, you could win together, too.” 

She and Chantecler gave each other another once over before turning back with a unanimous “No.” 

Exasperated, Chilver gave up. “Alright. Just be careful on your own. It’s dangerous, both on a practical level and as far as popularity goes.

Her heart dropped. “Popularity?”

“For the capitol.” Chilver clarified. “You need to keep their attention, make them like you.” She must have seen her worry, as she quickly backpedaled. “I mean, it’s not that hard though! You just have to do something interesting. And that’s easier when you’re in an alliance, because you have people to talk to.” 

Silence passed as Sheera barely held in the panic. She couldn’t do that. 

“You could probably pull off silent and scary, you know.” Chilver mused, stirring her tea. 

“Hm?”

Chilver elaborated, “Since you don’t talk a lot, and since you always look so dreary. Just keep your voice low and be cryptic, and they will eat it up.”

Sheera mashed the peas with her fork. “Okay.”

“This is exciting, actually.” Chilver droned on, oblivious. “I mean, no one ever takes me seriously. Imagine if my first victor is someone as tough as you? Maybe they will actually see that perfect little lamb of theirs has some teeth after all!” She stabbed her steak, wincing when the knife screeched against the ceramic.  

This was going to be a long week. 

======

The day of the interviews was, oddly enough, even more daunting to Sheera than the games themselves.

That shouldn’t make sense, right? One was a fight to the death. The other was a three minute talk on a stage with a man who was about ten years late to retirement. 

Still, waiting back where the other tributes were, Sheera found herself struggling to keep her composure. Every so often, a new worst case scenario would pop into her head, of her messing up somehow and making every single person in the audience hate her, or make fun of her, or worse. What if she spoke too much? Too little? Said the wrong thing? Accidentally break some sort of unsaid capitol rule? Such an awful thing to consider, the idea that perhaps she would sabotage her chances before the games even began. 

Around her, the others were either chatting to alliances or similarly staying quiet on their own. As they trickled out one by one, Sheera’s anxiety only grew. 

What if they hated her? What if they found her boring? What if she died because of this? 

It grew closer and closer to her turn, and Sheera feared she may just fall apart entirely the instant she stepped on the stage. 

==========

Despite everything, Chilver said the interviews went well. 

Sheera did not fall apart. She played her role, she acted cold and mysterious and whatever, and no one yelled at her. 

But did it really go well? Sheera barely remembered what she said, and she was too scared to go back and check the airing. She remembered that she didn’t talk that much, and that it was quiet. She kept an ear out for reactions from the audience, but she didn’t hear much from them. Did they hate her? Were they bored?

The questions lingered far into the night, until she found herself pacing around the living room past midnight, despite Chilver’s warning to get rest.

The door opened, and out came Chantecler, who made it halfway toward the bar before he noticed Sheera and visibly startled. 

“What are you doing?” Chantecler asked, a tinge of frustration in his voice.

“I’m worried.” Sheera admitted. No use lying, that would only make her seem suspicious. 

“About the games?”

“I… I don’t think I did well in the interview.”

“Well, I mean, you barely said anything. Of course they wouldn’t react much to that.”

“Yeah. I feel like I should’ve said more.” 

“But didn’t she tell you to keep it brief?”

“Yeah, but…”

“You did fine, really. You’re supposed to be all cool and mysterious. You did better than I did, at least.” He insisted. She looked at him, but only found a bitter coldness in his eyes. “Stop worrying yourself, and get some rest.” 

It did not help. 

==========

The day came all too soon for Sheera to be sent into the arena. 

The first thing she saw was a rocky cliff in the distance, jagged peaks jutting into the hazy horizon. The cornucopia itself was next, looking to be made of some sort of metal, somewhat rusted already by the rough conditions. 

Somewhere in the distance, the announcer said something, perhaps a welcoming to the 98th Hunger Games, though she couldn’t make out any specific words thanks to the wind. A second passed after it ended. The countdown clock appeared above the cornucopia, and began counting down, sending Sheera’s heart plummeting all over again. 

Well, this was it. What was the plan again? Sheera couldn’t remember. She knew she was going to lay low, sure, but that didn’t account for the bloodbath. Did she talk to Chilver about what to do in the bloodbath at all? What did Chilver do? She… she had her district partner, who protected her, right? That wouldn’t help Sheera here. Even if they were allies, Chantecler would be much more likely to be the one who needed protecting rather than her. And she couldn’t even see him from her spot. 

A gust of wind interrupted, sending drifts of dust into her eyes and, judging by a few scattered cries and swears, the eyes of the other tributes as well. 

It took a few seconds to open her eyes again, to blink away the grit in her eyes. Seconds that may have been vital, as she then found the countdown to already be at twenty-seven. 

Why was she relying on the strategy of a twelve-year-old victor, anyways? Who’s idea was it for Chilver to mentor her? This was completely inapplicable to her!

Whatever. This was fine. She would just go, grab some supplies, and leave. She could handle herself. 

Sheera may not be that good at talking, but she is good at running, and carrying things, and avoiding those who want to hurt her.

The countdown reached zero. 

Being taller than most of the other girls here (and about half the boys, too), Sheera was among the first to reach the cornucopia. She had just enough time to smile to herself before the boy from one grabbed an axe and slashed towards her, only missing by a few inches as she jumped back. He swung again, missing, before he huffed in annoyance and threw the axe aside, blunt side hitting the girl from six in the leg. He turned away, diving for a sword instead. 

Sheera didn’t give him the opportunity to come back for her, grabbing a nearby club from atop a crate in one hand, grabbing the strap of a red backpack in the other, and darting back towards the exit.  

Someone brushed into her as she passed the outer frame, and she swung, clipping a boy with auburn hair in the shoulder, who yelped, darting away from her before she could do anything else. 

She made it back to the circle of pedestals when a pair of boys ran into her, the taller one grabbing her bag and trying to wrestle it away from her. Behind him, the other boy readied a mace to strike, though apprehension lingered on his face. 

Sheera ignored her own apprehension, swinging the club into the taller boy’s face. It connected with a sickening crunch, and the boy reeled back with a cry, dropping to his knees as blood began to seep through the hands clasped to his nose and mouth. 

Taking a step back, Sheera lingered just long enough to see the other kid kneel down, urging his companion to get up, before she felt he was distracted enough for her to leave without attacking him, too. 

She fled, refusing to stop until the sounds of violence faded to nothing behind her.

=================

It took about two hours until she felt she had successfully broken into the boots she had been given, and three hours until she felt she had gotten used to the rocky terrain she would have to hike for the next who knows how many days. By then, it had become apparent that water would be scarce. 

That was to say, thus far she hadn’t found any source of water. Just rocks, and dirt, and dust, the odd dead tree or bush, and the haze on the horizon. 

She was lucky her bag had a bottle, but it was only one bottle, only enough to last a day at most. Her other items held a pair of goggles, a flashlight, a pocketknife, a bag of crispy snacks of some sort, and a box of matches. All useful in other ways, sure, but no more water. 

Unfortunately, from the looks of it, this was shaping up to be one of those tough years, where absolutely everything was out to get the tributes. The cannon that interrupted her thoughts only cemented that idea. 

But there had to be something, right? There wasn’t a lot she knew about the games, but Chilver and Brandall had been hammering it in to both her and Chantecler this entire time that they needed to find water, that there would always be water somewhere, even if it wasn’t obvious, even if she had to search for it.

But where would she search? Sheera stood atop a small boulder, scanning what she could see, looking for anything that stood out. Would the gamemakers put a hint anywhere?

Nothing answered, except for another cannon. 

Without any enticing options, Sheera continued forward, heading toward the outer perimeter of cliffs ahead of her. Maybe there would be caves there, and maybe there would be water in the caves. Water could be found in caves, right? She couldn’t remember, but it felt right. 

=========

It was dusk by the time she had reached the cliffs. Or at least, she guessed it was dusk. Unfortunately, the haze in the sky made the sun rather difficult, if not impossible, to see. In all honesty, she couldn’t even tell if it was still day or night, only that it had gotten darker, and that she was sure hours had passed.  

Above her, the anthem began to play. She first thought to ignore it, but remembered she had already lost count of the cannons from after the bloodbath. She knew two tributes had died after the bloodbath, but she had no idea how many died total.

Despite the haze in the sky, the projection was clear and easy to see. First came the girl from District 2, surprisingly. She expected the tributes from there to last longer. Then came the girl from District 3, both from Four, both from Five, the girl from Six, the girl from Seven. Then the boy from Seven, who Sheera realized only then was the same one she clubbed in the face. He died after she left? The girl from Eight appeared before she could linger on this further. Districts 9 and 10 were both skipped, meaning Chantecler was still alive. Instead, the next casualty shown was the boy from Eleven, and then the boy from Twelve. With that, the anthem ended, and the sky went dark, though not nearly as dark as she expected night to be. 

Since that confirmed that it was indeed night, she figured to find a cave. However, she was beginning to realize now that it was easier said than done. She always saw tributes in caves in what little she remembered in years before, so she just kind of figured that one would be really obvious in all the nooks and crannies of this mountain. But try as she might, every hole that she found could only fit her arm at most. And after a large, menacing spider crawled out of one when she checked, she was now put off from the idea altogether.

Somewhere in the distance, a rumble echoed, and it was only then that Sheera noticed how…  strange the sky had become. It looked like a storm, at least at first, but the color was off. A tornado, perhaps? But the clouds weren’t ever this shade of green before. A flash of lightning illuminated the cloud to be even bigger than she thought, and another rumble sounded, one she felt in her bones. 

Okay. She may have been put off by the spider, but she wasn’t quite put off enough to ignore whatever this happened to be. 

She was out of time. Sheera scrambled to find whatever shelter she could. Not this rock, not that corner, she pulled herself up to peek over a ledge only to find more rocks, no gaps or crevices anywhere to see. 

A ledge or two below her, she heard something scrabbling the rocks. Desperate, Sheera decided to follow it. She had been raised around enough animals to know they usually had it right when it came to finding shelter. If it tried to attack, she’d just kill it. She’d never killed any animals before, sure, but her family had always made it known the cattle raised for meat on the farm were not creatures to get attached to, and she was worrying enough about the storm that she could ignore the trepidation for now. 

Sheera jumped down, turning to find that behind her was indeed, a cave wedged in a giant crack in the cliffside. Letting out a breath of relief, Sheera hurried inside, wedging herself into the fracture before the storm on her tail could catch up. 

Unlike the unnatural amount of light outside, the cave was pitch black, and tighter than she thought it would be. She inched a few feet further before she finally reached past the walls she had been pinned between, finding herself in what she guessed was a small clearing. To confirm, she grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. 

The first thing she found was a girl cowering against a wall a few feet away, staring at her with wide eyes.

They both screamed, Sheera darting to the far end of the cave while the girl ran for the crack, slipping back into it before Sheera could do anything. 

Well, at least she didn’t have to fight for this shelter?

Sheera sank to the ground, still panting from the shock. However, she couldn’t rest for long before she heard a coughing outside, growing louder before the girl returned, though she kept to the mouth of the cave. 

“The air…” the girl managed to choke out. “I can’t go out, it’s poisoned or something.” 

The air? Poisoned? Was that something an arena had done before?

The girl must have seen the confusion and uncertainty on her face, as she took another breath before speaking again. “I tried to leave, I really did. I couldn’t even get to the entrance, it’s awful.”

Finishing this statement, she made her way back to her original position at the side, sitting back down on the ground in a tight little ball, clutching what Sheera could now recognize as a small sword in her left hand, not taking her eyes off of Sheera. 

Sheera went to take a look for herself. She made her way through to the entrance, and indeed just barely made out the dim light outside before her eyes began to water and her throat began to burn. 

Stumbling back, Sheera nearly tripped as she made it back to the clearing. It seemed both of them were stuck here for the time being. 

The girl looked up. “Please let me be. It’s only the first night. If it’s gone by morning, I’ll leave. We don’t have to fight.” 

Sheera considered this before nodding. She didn’t want alliances, but this wasn’t an alliance. This was a truce, one that would only last until morning. She didn’t have to talk to this girl at all, she didn’t have to learn anything about her, and the girl wouldn’t have to learn anything about her, either. 

She sat down.

“So,” The girl said, “My name’s Marlette.” 

===========

Against her will, Sheera learned a lot about Marlette. She was from District 12, and was seventeen years old. She lived with her mother and two younger brothers, and her father had died of what she called “miner’s cough” when she was only ten years old. 

Sheera did not offer much in return, only giving her name and age. Marlette guessed her district, and prodded with yes or no questions until she finally quieted down. Sheera had hoped she would fall asleep, but the slightest attempt to stand up was met with the other girl sharply turning towards her, one wrong move away from swinging the sword at her. 

Sheera checked for morning three times through the night. Only on the third time did she find the air clear, did she find some semblance of daylight seeping in despite the smog outside. 

She considered just leaving now, not even letting Marlette know it was safe outside. However, that felt awfully rude, so she turned back.

“It’s safe.” She said, matter of factly. “We can go.”

“Really?” Marlette’s face lit up in joy. “Wonderful! Thank you!” 

Momentarily overwhelmed by the news, Marlette pushed past Sheera, rushing outside to see for herself. Sheera followed to find her overlooking the arena. 

Morning had seemed to have brought a momentary clarity to the arena, and Sheera could just barely make out even the Cornucopia in the distance. However, she couldn’t see any other tributes. They, too, must have rushed into shelter last night. 

With a huff, Sheera picked up her bag, pulling it onto her shoulders. She’d have a head start if she left now, and could maybe find some supplies or a less busy shelter before anything else happened. Maybe the storm would come back, maybe something worse would appear, but hopefully, Sheera could be prepared before then. 

Marlette spoke up from beside her. “Hey, uh…”

Sheera gave her a questioning look.

“I figured it’d be nice to pay you back for uh, y’know, not killing me?” Marlette smiled. “I found some water yesterday, so I can show you it, if you haven’t found it already.”

Sheera shook her head. No way was she going to trust someone she just met to lead her to desperately needed water. She’d hold it over her head for sure, or maybe it was a trap? Sheera couldn’t help but think of the risks. 

“Please,” Marlette pleaded, “I just want to pay you back for not killing me back there, I’d feel bad if I just let you go on like this without doing something in return.”

Well, maybe she had a point there. From what she had seen of the games in the past, most tributes wouldn’t pass up the chance to kill someone who they happened to run into. In that case, this wouldn’t be an act of pity or manipulation, but indebtedness.

Sheera looked at Marlette closely. While not great at reading a book, she was pretty good at reading others, and Marlette was thankfully someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, and proved to be incredibly easy to read. For as much as Sheera studied her, there was no hint of hostility in her eyes. 

Okay, maybe the truce can last a bit longer, then. 

=========== 

The water turned out to be at the bottom of a small canyon, a collection of sparse waterfalls (could she even call them waterfalls if they were this tiny?) pouring out from the cliffs lining it. While the stream it fed into looked a bit questionable, the waterfalls themselves seemed alright. 

Marlette refilled her water bottle, popping a tablet into it. She noted Sheera’s confused expression. 

“It’s iodine.” She explained. “My mentors mentioned you have to treat water with it before drinking, or else you can get really sick and maybe die.” 

Sheera nodded, thankful for the knowledge. She didn’t even get any iodine in her bag, so she would have been in big trouble if she had found this on her own, even if she had known this before getting here. 

However, that was the current problem, too. Dare she ask for a tablet for her own refill of water? Or would this be a step too far? Technically, any debt had already been repaid; would she be asking too much of Marlette? She had no idea how many tablets the girl even had. What if she was asking for the last one? Sheera still needed water. 

“Can I use one?” Sheera finally brought herself to ask. 

A pause. Sheera braced for the worst.

“Sure!” Marlette dug into her own bag, pulling out a container and handing it over. 

Was it that easy? Sheera blinked at the container before grabbing a tablet and adding it to her own water. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” Marlette sat down beside her. “It’s nice to have someone around. I was getting kinda antsy yesterday on my own.” 

Sheera nodded. 

“You know, we could be allies, if you want.” Marlette put her hands up defensively. “Only if you want to, no pressure. I just think it’d be a good idea, y’know, looking out for each other.” 

Sheera wanted to say no, because this wouldn’t last either way. On the other hand….

“Okay.” 

What was she getting herself into? 

A cannon sounded from above the canyon. 

Well, at least she was having a better day than whoever that was. 

============

Marlette proved herself to be surprisingly enjoyable to have as an ally. She was able to keep Sheera in the loop about the games and what was going on. For example, Sheera would have totally forgotten by now that there were eleven tributes left. That wasn’t a lot for day two, apparently. 

Beyond the games, though, Marlette had other topics of conversation to keep the two of them occupied. For example, Marlette had been reaped in the middle of a lengthy school project studying a classic piece of Panem literature, Inside the Truth , and wanted to brainstorm essay topics with Sheera so she’d be able to keep up with the rest of the class if she managed to return. Sheera nodded and followed along, actually finding herself quite invested in the story. She hadn’t really been one for literature; it was too difficult to focus on the words and she could never quite get the hang of reading as fast as her peers. However, just listening to Marlette recite the plot to this book was quite relaxing. It helped get her mind off of things for just a little while. 

Unfortunately, a reminder came from behind the outcropping of rocks they were passing. Sheera had just barely passed them when something shoved her to the ground. 

With a yelp, she instantly fought back, punching the assailant in the face. While they didn’t react much at first, a sharp shriek escaped them as they suddenly rolled off, and Sheera only then saw Marlette’s shortsword in the kid’s shoulder. 

It was only then that she recognized the kid, too. It was the boy from the bloodbath, the one who was allied with the one she injured who later died. Was this some sort of attempt at revenge? She scrambled to her feet. 

Marlette gave her a worried glance. “Are you okay?”

Sheera nodded, trying to avoid the glare the boy was giving her.

“Sheera, what do we do?” 

The boy, too, got to his feet, taking a step forward. 

“Stop.” Sheera demanded, holding her ground. 

“I’m not listening to you.” He seethed. “I don’t really have a choice, anyway.” 

A choice?

He leapt at her, and she swung the club, hitting him in the side of the head and sending him crashing into the boulder beside them. 

The cannon didn’t sound, so he must have been still alive. But aside from some trembling and a few choked whimpers, he did not make any attempt to get up. That was good enough for her. 

The two spent a few seconds to catch their breath, to process the scene in front of them, before turning to each other and making hesitant eye contact. 

“.... We should go before he wakes up.” Marlette suggested. 

“Yeah.” Sheera replied, hands shaking as she went to put the club away. She stalled, then changed her mind, instead still clutching it close, though she was near certain he wouldn’t come after them. The two were out of there within minutes, heading into the sunset distance beyond before anything else could happen. 

Should she have stayed behind? Finished him off? At first, she was worried about him potentially chasing after them. Then the cannon went off. After that, she felt only guilt. Should she have put him out of his misery? 

Even Marlette’s stories couldn’t help distract her, not fully. 

=========

The weather in the arena was unpredictable. The storms came at random, with only enough warning for them to make a run for the rocks and find a cave. Sheera gained a habit of keeping her eyes on the skies, trying to pinpoint the earliest signs so they’d have the most time to flee. 

Marlette, meanwhile, found food. While Sheera kept her eye on the skies, Marlette found roadrunners and rabbits, and pointed them out. It took a day before they finally caught one, but having some food after all the effort it took felt better than any sort of project Sheera had done before. 

By the seventh day, they had formed a somewhat stable routine, keeping in a certain corner of the arena, the same area with the water. Going out for roadrunners and rabbits in the morning, coming back to camp on the rocks in the afternoon, hiding if a storm approached. They even found more caves, and Sheera was able to memorize where they were. She felt somewhat apprehensive about having to kill the animals, but they needed the food, and Marlette was willing to do the difficult part once she noticed how hesitant Sheera was. 

In the evening, another announcement rang over the arena, though at least Sheera could hear it this time. 

The announcer pleasantly greeted the remaining tributes, called for a feast in the morning, and then signed off, leaving them in silence once again.

“We should go.” Marlette mused. 

“Should we?”

“Yeah!” Marlette urged. “We’ve only been eating meat the past few days, we need… vegetables or something.”

“Alright.” Sheera agreed. Maybe they could find other things, too. What usually showed up at a feast? She looked up to ponder, but noticed yet another storm instead. 

“We need to get inside.” She grabbed Marlette and made her way back into the cave, which was thankfully inside. With the extra time though, they lingered in the entrance, watching it roll in over the rest of the arena. 

“I hope everything goes well, tomorrow.” Marlette whispered, fidgeting her hands in her lap. 

“Me too.” 

“We won’t stay very long. We’ll just grab what we need and run.” 

“Sounds good.”

“Are you okay to attack anyone if we have too?”

Sheera thought about it. Instead, she was distracted by the fact Marlette asked at all. 

“Why are you asking?”

“You seemed upset, after what happened with the boy from nine.” Marlette sighed. “To be honest, I feel kinda bad, too. I guess it’s inevitable in the games, but that doesn’t help much, huh?” 

Sheera shook her head, letting out a shaky sigh of her own. 

“Just… only fight if you have to. We can’t pick fights if we can avoid it. We’ll wait until there’s already a fight going on, then hopefully they’ll be too distracted to go after us.” 

The storm consumed the cornucopia, and continued to crawl across the land. 

“It just sucks that the careers haven’t split up yet.” Marlette continued. “Usually they would by now, but I guess Serviana dying whittled down their numbers too much. And the Ones haven’t killed Oris yet, either, so they haven’t deemed him a threat.” 

A cannon sounded. 

Sheera looked around, but didn’t see any tributes lying around where she could see. Either it happened in the caves, or too far away for her to make out. 

Marlette gazed out alongside her, searching for herself. “I’m hoping to at least make the final eight.”

“Where are we at now?”

“With the last cannon? Nine.” 

“You don’t think you’ll win?”

Marlette sighed. “I try to be optimistic. But I’m not stupid. I’ll try my best, that’s all I can do.” She looked up at Sheera. “What about you?”

Sheera only offered a shrug. “I dunno. I could win, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. More just thought about surviving.” 

Marlette pondered this. “But don’t you think about winning? All I can think of is getting my family into one of those nice houses in the victor’s village, being able to invite people to my house, y’know? Friends and stuff?”

“I’ve… never really had friends.” Sheera admitted. “I’ve never really been that smart. A year into my schooling at the dairy house, everyone had already decided I wasn’t worth talking to.” She couldn’t quite hide the wavering in her voice, though she tried. 

Silence.

Marlette sighed. “You’re likeable, though. I like you.”

“Thanks.” Sheera couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y’know, I’ve always been kinda lonely too.” Marlette said. “People would like me at first, but then I say too much and say the wrong thing, and they get mad at me.” 

“Guess that makes two of us, then.”

Marlette took her hand. 

“We can be lonely together, at least.” 

=======

The feast was held at a collection of rocks about two hours away from their cave. They reached 

it just before dawn, hiding behind other boulders nearby. So far, no one else had shown up. 

“Who’s left?” Sheera asked. 

Marlette tapped her foot as she thought. “Let’s see. Both from one, Oris, the boy from three, the girl from nine, your district partner, and the girl from eleven. And us, of course.” 

Just as she finished, a high pitch whistle sounded from the rock circle. The two spun around just in time to see the boy from one run out, followed by the boy from two. 

“They were already here?” Marlette asked. 

Before they could question further, the two boys reached a nearby rock, flushing out two girls from behind it as they both split up. 

“That’s our cue!” Marlette cried, grabbing Sheera by the wrist. “Let’s go!” 

Sheera followed along, running after her as they beelined to the center. 

They reached the clearing in the middle of the rocks just in time for a table to pop up out of the ground, a collection of bags sitting atop it. Marlette grabbed one, turning around before yelping. 

Sheera turned around to see the girl from one, who notched an arrow into her bow, aiming it directly at Sheera’s neck. Sheera held the club in front of her, deflecting the arrow harmlessly into one of the nearby bags. She swung it, the other girl holding out her own weapon on instinct to stop the blow.

Crack

The bow broke in two, only connected at the string. 

Baffled, the girl from one retreated, darting around the table and dashing through one of the gaps. 

Sheera grabbed her own bag, before taking Marlette by the hand and practically dragging her out of there. 

Back in open view, Sheera hoped with all her heart that the others couldn’t see them as they fled back into the mountain rocks. She didn’t stop until Marlette let out a sharp cry of pain.

Sheera turned around, about to ask what was wrong, and she noticed the blood, and the arrow lodged into Marlette’s side. 

“You got shot?!” Sheera cried instead.

“You didn’t realize?” 

“When?” 

“A-at the table, when the girl from one first showed up…” Marlette shakily limped to a boulder, leaning against it as she winced. 

“W-what do I do?” Sheera couldn’t take her eyes off the wound. 

“Just- just take it out, and we can bandage it up, I took the medical bag, it’ll be fine.” Marlette insisted as she sank to her knees. 

“Okay…” This didn’t feel right, but she took the shaft of the arrow regardless, because she didn’t know what else to do. 

She regretted everything immediately after Marlette started screaming. She stopped, pulling her hand away. 

“I- I can’t.” 

Marlette said something, maybe, but it was too obscured by sobs for Sheera to make it out. She only got the hint when Marlette dragged her hand back to the arrow.

Sheera winced, then tried again, trying to get it out faster this time. She managed to get it out, thankfully, but Marlette shrieked again regardless.

“Sorry!” Sheera offered, shaking, bloody hands reaching for the medical kit and pulling out some gauze. “You have to tell me how to do this.” 

Marlette whimpered. “Uhm… just put pressure on it for now. Then we tie another bandage over it t-to keep it in place.”

“Okay.” Sheera agreed shakily as she stuffed most of the gauze over the wound. Once it started to bleed through, she took the remaining strip and began to tie it around her waist. 

“Is this tight enough? Or should I go tighter? Or looser? I d-don’t want it to be too tight. Is this okay? Marlette?”

No answer. 

She looked up. “Marl–”

Her only ally’s cannon sounded. 

=======

Sheera wasn’t sure what day it was. 

It had been over a week, that was for certain. It had been a few days longer, maybe five? At this point, everything had fallen into a haze as heavy as the one settled over the arena itself, blurring the days together worse than the storms. Currently, it was late in the day, though she wasn’t exactly sure what time, as the haze obscured the sun as well. If anything, she was sick of the haze, both mental and literal. If she won, she hoped the victor’s village was in a nice place that had lots of greenery, and had no dust storms ever. The route to Alpine had places near desolate like this, as well as places lush and green like the plains she called home. If she could choose, she’d pick the green in a heartbeat. 

It was kinda funny, really. She didn’t really care about that sort of thing before, especially since she wasn’t really one for travel outside of necessity. However, she supposed any sort of life threatening situation such as this would result in such a change in heart, wouldn’t it? 

Either way, the games had gone on too long, however long it had been. With Marlette gone, every day just felt like Sheera had long outstayed her welcome. 

In the distance, she heard talking. 

Sheera darted to the rocks before she even thought to do so. Vaulting over them, she nestled into a small nook, trying to calm her breathing before anyone could hear her. 

“I just don’t think she really wants to win, that’s the thing.” 

It was one of the older boys, from the sounds of it. And from the topic, it seems they didn’t catch her hiding, or even knew she was here at all. She let out a quiet sigh of relief, melting into the crevice as she continued to eavesdrop. 

“What? Why the fuck is she still around then, just to humour you?”

“I dunno. It’s not like she’s putting everyone else in danger or anything. Maybe she’s just trying to play the hero or something, like Aculeo did last year.”

Silence.

“Are you sure she’s not just reckless because she’s an idiot? Should we talk to her?” 

“... Nah. I don’t really care at this point. I never really got along with her anyways.” 

Sheera gained the courage to peek around the boulder she was behind, finally identifying the two boys speaking. For certain she was thankful for the uniform colors and numbered shoulders, because it only took a few seconds to make them out to be the boys from one and two, even from this distance. The girl from one wasn’t there. 

Her heart sank as she retreated back behind the boulder, remembering Marlette. 

She noticed the two boys' footsteps were getting louder. They were approaching. 

Her hand was around the handle of the club within a second, readying a strike as she braced herself. 

“She was pretty bummed out about the bow, though, I guess. Even after they got her a new one, she-” 

Sheera saw a foot step into view, and she leapt, striking Oris in the jaw. 

“Ow, fuck!” The career fell back, barely catching himself with his elbow against the rock. 

“Huh? What?” The boy from one exclaimed as he glanced from Sheera to Oris. Then, he seemed to snap back to reality, and turned to Sheera while holding out a sword. 

Sheera fled down to the foot of the mountain, before a sudden rumbling, worse than the storm, caught her off guard. It was close, and it was coming from the ground, passing directly beneath her.

Startled, she fell roughly to the ground, no doubt skinning her knees in the process. She turned around, barely catching sight of the careers above her before a sudden explosion of dirt, rock and dust from just behind the two caught all three of them off guard.

Something snakelike and huge grabbed Oris, and flew above the boy from one, and Sheera, before landing somewhere behind her, tunneling into the ground like a giant worm. 

The boy from one screamed, and ran off behind some of the rocks, giving Sheera a window to escape. 

Sheera wasn’t quite sure if the mutt was after her, specifically. It had at least a few tributes to choose from, and it could have chosen any one of them, however many happened to be left. She just knew she couldn’t be the one it chose, so she ran, in hopes that perhaps this would make her a less appealing target than anyone who was hiding in one spot. 

Up ahead, rocks jutted from the ground, forming the base of one of the mountains. While she wasn’t certain, maybe the rocks would be too tough for it to pass through? It was worth a shot; she didn’t have any other options she could think of at the moment. 

Sheera scanned it until she found a small gap into darkness, a crevice she could hide in. Channeling the final distance into the rest of her energy, she pushed herself forward, scrambling up the rocks to reach it. 

She threw herself toward the gap with such force she did not notice the figure suddenly peeking out until it was too late, and she crashed into them, the two falling into the cave with a shout.

It was another tribute, it had to be. She clamored about in the darkness until her hands found the club, weapon side first, and flipped it around so she was holding the handle. It was then an unknown light turned on, and a familiar figure holding a lamp blinked at her in shock.

“Sheera?”

Chantecler’s voice sounded awful, like he had been living on a diet of sand and brambles this entire time. Considering how difficult it had been to get food or water this entire time, Sheera wasn’t exactly ruling that out as an explanation. Still, it was her district partner, and Chantecler’s face lit up as he stepped forward. 

“Man, am I glad to see you.” He smiled, but his eyes lacked any sort of true joy. He sat down beside her. Sheera kept a grip on the club; while attacking her would have been considered rude and would have made him a pariah to District 10 if he won, it wasn’t exactly against the rules, and at this point Sheera wasn’t taking any chances. 

“You…” She croaked, noting only then how her voice didn’t sound much better,  “Have you been here the whole time?”

Chantecler paused, then winced. “No. I’ve only been here the past… three or four days. I’ve been sticking close, but going out whenever it was safe to get food and water and stuff.” 

Sheera nodded. A silence passed. 

“So, what about you?” Chantecler asked, looking at her. “Did you find anything of note?”

“Just cliffs and rocks.” And a friend, and an enemy, and images that she desperately tried to bury.

With a sigh, Chantecler leaned back, setting his lamp on the ground. “That thing out there, where did it come from?”

“The ground.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.” 

“I guess it just emerged, then?”

“Yup.”

At this, Chantecler stood again, heading to the entrance. He was limping, slightly, which Sheera had not noticed before thanks to the adrenaline which had only just now faded. She eyed him as he took a good look at the environment outside, this time not being interrupted with any incoming tributes. 

Sheera did not say anything as he returned, though she was curious to know what caused the injury. Really, she did not want him here at all, and every second she spent in this cave made her feel more and more trapped. She was sure he was going to die; they had who knows how many days left and he was injured enough to be limping. If they had to do any more running, be it from mutts or tributes, he wouldn’t stand a chance.  

Sheera wasn’t going to lose anyone else. Not if she could help it. 

The rumblings and crashes did not stop, though they did not get closer, either. 

A cannon sounded. 

“Seven left.” Chantecler mused, etching something into his shoulderpad. 

The silence that followed stretched several minutes, until finally the mutt seemed to disappear, letting the arena outside fall into an uneasy silence. 

Chantecler turned to her “Hey, I know you said–”

“I’m leaving.” 

“... What?” 

Sheera stood up. “It’d be better.” 

A sad, puzzled expression crossed his face. “Are you sure?”

Sheera nodded, heading to the entrance of the cave. She turned back once.

Chantecler was looking very intensely at his backpack, seated against the wall. 

With no offering of goodbye, Sheera hoisted herself through the opening.

“Wait!”

Chantecler’s cry was the first clear thing he’d said this entire exchange. She glanced back down in time to see him pop out of the crevice, some sort of item in his hands. 

“Take this at least.” He held it out for her. “It’s a mask for the storm. I don’t… I don’t want you getting hurt while you’re out there if you get caught in it.”

Sheera hesitantly reached out, hand barely brushing the strap before Chantecler practically shoved it into her arms.

“Stay safe out there.” He urged, glancing away. 

“I’ll try.”

She expected Chantecler to go back into hiding immediately, but he didn’t, instead leaving it to Sheera to be the one to turn away, leaving the rocks and heading to another shelter. 

============

Indeed, the storm hit, Sheera delaying until the last moment to put on the mask. She shouldn’t have taken it, now this has just made her look awful, using it to save her life and she didn’t even say thank you. 

Sheera stopped, unsure of what to do. 

Does she continue on? Leave Chantecler to his fate? Not get attached to anyone else? He was already injured, and the last time she tried first aid on someone….

Sheera winced, fighting back tears. 

But if she left him, what would that mean? That she let her district partner die? She was getting him killed no matter what she did at this point. 

She stood there, unmoving, for several seconds, fighting the storm in her head that felt stronger than the one outside. 

She had to go back. 

It took another half hour or so to make it back to the original cave, or at least she hoped it was the original cave considering the dust was making it hard to see and she couldn’t even remember what it exactly looked like. But it was a hole, and it was in the cliffs, and it seemed sort of like the view from the entrance, even if she could see past the nearest outcropping of rocks. So, she took a breath, and dropped inside. 

Sheera was greeted by a sharp gasp, and a scrabbling of dirt as Chantecler rushed to his feet in the corner. Sheera removed the mask, being able to make him out, and make out the fact that he had been crying, making her feel even worse. 

“You’re back.” Chantecler choked out after a moment. 

“Mhm.” She responded, settling down on the floor across from him. If Chantecler tried anything, she would not hesitate to embed the mace in his skull, district partner or not. But for the moment, there was peace, and it was the best she could ask for. 

=====

Sheera woke that morning to the resuming chaos of the worm, whose return was marked by the collapse of a cliff on the other side of the arena. Being inside the cave, the pair heard it before they saw it, a distant boom that so suddenly woke Sheera from an uneasy sleep. 

Outside, they found quite the odd scene. It was clear enough out that they could see almost the entire arena. They could see the worm, too, as it moved on to destroy the surrounding cliffs to their left. More bizarre, however, was the spiral pattern of upturned dirt that eventually led to the cornucopia in the middle.

Chantecler tilted his head. “Do you think they want us to go to the cornucopia?”

Sheera had no idea. “... maybe?”

At that, the worm mutt burst out less than a mile away from them, the destroyed cliffside being much too close for comfort.

“I'm taking that as a yes.” Chantecler shakily concluded. “Will you help me get there? This might take a while.”

=========

About an hour after they left, a cannon sounded. 

“That makes five.” Chantecler sighed.

“Who’s left?”

“Uh…” Chantecler hesitated, counting on his fingers. “I don’t know who died, but I know the pair from one, the girl from nine, and the boy from three were all that were left last night.”

The cornucopia came into view through the haze, barren compared to the first day. The others must have cleared it out entirely considering how little food there had been throughout the past while. 

“I don’t see anyone there,” Chantecler whispered. “I guess whoever died got eaten by the worm.” 

They waited, but no one emerged. Impatient, Sheera put a hand to her mouth and imitated the call of a roadrunner. 

This worked, bringing out none other than the girl from one, who kept a close grip on her bow. A new bow, evidently.

“What do we do?” Chantecler asked. Sheera shrugged. 

“Porcelain?” A voice called from inside the cornucopia. “What are you doing?”

“Something’s out here.” the girl from one replied. “Winsome, come on! help me!” 

Out from the cornucopia emerged the boy, Winsome. “What are we looking for?”

“It sounded like a mutt. Not the worm. Like a bird or rodent or something. We can kill it.” 

The two began pacing around, looking behind rocks well short of where Sheera and Chantecler were hiding. 

Behind the cornucopia, a small boy, the one with auburn hair from the bloodbath, snuck his way over and slipped inside while the two kids from one remained oblivious to his presence. 

“Sheera, I need a plan.” Chantecler whispered. 

What they needed was a trap. Marlette was always the better trapper.  but with Marlette gone, it'd be up to Sheera to make one this time. She paused for several seconds, thinking over impossible options before she finally settled on the one that felt the least bad.

“We wait for one of them to get here.” She replied. “Do you have a weapon?”

Chantecler nodded, holding up a knife for her to see. 

“I’ll hit whoever gets here first.” She said, “Then you finish them off while I get the other.”

Chantecler hesitated before nodding. 

The first one to arrive was Winsome, who jogged in their general direction seemingly at random. In fact, he approached so quickly that she instead only had enough time to trip him with the club, barely waiting  for him to hit the ground before swinging the club down onto his head. 

“Okay, go!” She ordered as she ran to a rock closer to Porcelain. Porcelain noticed the commotion between Winsome and Chantecler first, still looking away when Sheera tackled her, slamming the club down blindly the same time as she grabbed the bow, trying to wrench it away. 

“Stop it!” Porcelain yelled. “Let go!” 

Sheera ignored her, until she was kicked off. Porcelain looked up and the two made eye contact just as Winsome’s cannon sounded. Porcelain glanced over, alarmed, before darting off, running to the other side of the cornucopia. 

Chantecler, meanwhile, jogged over to Sheera, still limping but not as much. He glanced up at the roof before ducking, dragging Sheera just under the rim. 

“She’s up there with the bow.” He warned. “We’re trapped.” 

Sheera didn’t have a plan for this . 

Chantecler paced around, looking at the sparse few supplies that were left. He pulled up a folding chair, looking it over before setting it down with a sigh. 

Sheera looked around herself, eventually finding a collapsible baton. She handed it to Chantecler, as it at least had a longer range than the knife. Neither of their weapons were longer range than a bow, though. 

Out of the inner cornucopia emerged the red haired boy from three, clutching a small hatchet. The three of them looked at each other in a panic, none of them having the courage to move until Porcelain dropped from the rim, landing in the middle. 

“You two are really getting on my nerves,” She said, “You can’t just expect to win by just–” 

Porcelain was interrupted by her own shriek, pulling away and spinning around to find the boy from three, who had taken advantage of his position to hit her in the back with the hatchet. 

Without another word, Porcelain shoved him to the ground, instead aiming her bow towards him and putting an arrow into his chest in an instant. In that time, however, Sheera took the opportunity to slam the club over her head right as the boy’s cannon went off. 

Porcelain dropped to her knees, but rolled away from the second blow. 

A giant explosion erupt from behind the cornucopia, sending dust flying everywhere as the worm darted upward. Sheera winced as the cloud reached her face, stumbling to fall on her knees as the ground shook once again. Man, was she getting sick of the ground being so unstable. 

In the chaos, something tackled her, and she fell to the ground. 

When the dust cleared, she found Porcelain above her, right as she pulled out an arrow and plunged it into her shoulder.

Sheera couldn’t stop herself from crying out. Porcelain reached back to grab another arrow, and–

Something pulled Porcelain back. Sheera sat up to find Chantecler, hands on the baton, trying to use it to choke Porcelain. Sheera and Chantecler made eye contact.

“C’mon…” He urged. 

Sheera shakily stood, trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder. Her dominant arm. She took the club in her other hand, instead. 

Porcelain, meanwhile, was freed when the baton snapped, Chantecler falling backwards onto the ground. She turned, grasping one of the broken pieces in her hand and readying it over his chest. 

The club made a more decisive final blow before Porcelain could do anything more. 

The final cannon sounded. 

Still, it took several seconds before the dust settled, finally letting Sheera catch her breath. The silence stung as much as the lingering grit in her eyes. 

She turned to Chantecler, who was still lying on the ground. He was bruised, he was struggling to compose himself, but he was alive. 

“... Okay.” Chantecler panted. “Okay. We did it.” 

They did it. 

Another announcement rang out over the arena, announcing the victors. Her. Chantecler. 

She won. She was a victor. 

Victor. Victors. 

=============

According to Chilver and Brandall, their story proved quite the trouble for the editing team. Considering they spent most of the game apart, it was rather difficult to present some sort of proper story to it all. 

So instead, they played scenes back to back. Sheera had Marlette. Chantecler had the boy from eight, Mitten. Mitten made it to day seven before dying to the storm, as only Chantecler had the mask to protect him from the toxic gas. Marlette died at the feast, bleeding out despite Sheera’s best efforts. In the end, their two lost companions lead to their reunification, or something. 

Really, Sheera was sick of this. She wished desperately for the recap to be over so they could stop asking her questions. They cheered at everything she said, but she still felt like they were mocking her. 

Eventually, her wish was granted, and they were escorted offstage. 

But it never really ended. One interview to the next. And between the interviews, people kept approaching and, even when behind barriers, kept shouting questions to her. 

By the time she got to what Chilver claimed to be the last party they would be going to, she was about ready to scream.

To avoid this, she immediately fled when given the chance, taking cover in the first remote spot she could find. The prep team would surely yell at her for sitting in the garden while wearing this fancy dress, but there were more important things to deal with right now, like making sure she didn’t break down in front of a bunch of strangers. 

It wasn’t long before she was joined by Chantecler, who sat down beside her. They glanced up at the sky, the first clear sky they had seen in over two weeks. The light of the Capitol obscured all but the brightest stars, but the fact that she could see any at all was immensely refreshing to her. 

“I take it you’re not enjoying the party?” 

Sheera shook her head. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised, you never seemed like the type who would.” 

“How much longer do we have?”

“It’s not even midnight yet.” Chantecler sighed. “I can’t wait for this to be over, too.”

“I just want to go home.” Sheera muttered. 

“Well, really, is it home if we’re going to the victor’s village?”

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” 

“.... Me neither. But I keep thinking of it anyway.”

Well… would Sheera miss the others in the community? 

She hadn’t really thought of it before now. She’d be glad not to be constantly reminded of her loneliness but…

Lonely was still lonely, whether there were people to prove it or not.

“I miss Marlette.” She admitted. 

Chantecler looked up at her. “You were close?”

It struck Sheera suddenly that the recap had skipped most of their conversations. Sure, a lot of it was Marlette’s book summary, but they skipped the conversation they had prior to the feast in order to cover Mitten’s death, which happened at the same time. 

“Not at first.” Sheera finally reflected on it for the first time. “She wanted the alliance more than I did. But she was…” Sheera hesitated, “A good friend, the best I’ve had since…” 

She meant to finish the statement, but she genuinely could not think of a better friend she had before this. 

Marlette. Her best friend, who gave her water and lifesaving advice. Her best friend, who had an upcoming book report that was doomed to never be completed. Her friend, who was scared of being rejected just like Sheera. Her best friend, who Sheera dragged while wounded, bled out within minutes due to Sheera trying to save her. 

“It was my fault, wasn’t it? I just made things worse.”

Much to her dismay, she could feel herself welling up with tears. She was supposed to be the strong and tough one, right? What weight would that hold if anyone saw her crying? 

Chantecler startled, and she braced for some sort of remark. 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said instead, “I shouldn’t have brought it up, not this soon.” 

Oh. 

“It’s fine.” She insisted. “You didn’t know. The recap cut most of it out.” 

Anger crossed his eyes, and she worried for just a moment that it’d be directed at her. Once again, however, he surprised her. 

“I should’ve known. They did the same thing with Mitten.”

“What… What do you mean?” Sheera asked, though hesitantly.

“I’m still pissed about it.” Chantecler raved. “When the storm happened, my foot had been injured in a fight we had with the guy from District 2. We couldn’t make it in time to any sort of shelter.” The anger faded, leaving only a dull sadness. “Mitten had that mask in his bag, the one I gave you that let you breathe in the storm. He could have saved himself, he should have saved himself, but…”

Chantecler paused an awfully long time, finally letting out a shaky sigh before continuing.

“I didn’t know he cared about me that much, that he gave it to me instead. I woke up and it was already too late. I should have just told him to run instead of letting him try to help me walk, and then the recap just cut it all out so that it looked like I had the mask on the whole time, it’s not fair –” 

Chantecler stopped short, choking back tears as he looked away. That made a lot more sense. She had kept wondering why he looked like such a mess when she found him. Turns out, they had both been reeling from deaths of some of their closest companions in their lives, and both of them were hurting terribly. 

And she had left him there, fully intending to just let him die so she wouldn’t have to risk losing anyone else. No wonder he had been crying when she returned, to have lost someone willing to die for you and then getting abandoned by the next person you reached out to? It made Sheera feel sick. 

“I haven’t been a very good neighbor, have I?” She asked.

“Huh?” 

“I nearly abandoned you to die.”

“You came back,” He reminded her, “And you kinda saved my life at the end, there.” 

“I still feel bad.” 

“Well,” He leaned back, looking back into the sky. “They’re gonna expect us to be friends for the rest of our days. So we have a lot of time to make up for it.”

“So we just… pretend we’re friends?” 

He gave her an exasperated look. “We’ll make it real.” 

Could they? Sheera paused, trying to decipher any sort of trick he may have hidden, before she turned to look at him directly, meeting his gaze.

“Please,” Chantecler did not look away. “I can’t do this without you.”

She couldn’t find any lie in his eyes.