Chapter Text
She sat at the beach. Not comfortable on the dry, soft sand, where most people would sit, she was so close to the sea, that the waves danced around her feet. The water calmed her down, usually. But today was not usually. And it did not work.
"There you are."
Someone sat down on the cold sand next to her.
"The sea is calm today, that's a good sign, calm sea-calm day."
She did not move, did not speak.
"You are up early. Thought you would use the day, to get a bit of sleep."
The young man tried again. She sighed.
"You know I can't. Who really can today?"
He did not answer right away. "You know a hell lot of people live here. The chances are very low… "
…and yet never zero."
The siblings looked at the sea again. Their feet got wet, by occasional waves. Now it was her turn to speak.
"You know, sometimes I think, it would be best to just get in there. Swim until there is nothing else around me, just the water and wait till it takes me forever."
"Don't say stuff like that, Katie."
"But it's true - Better than working day after day for people who don't have a clue about how we have to life. And far better than worrying once a year if I have to face a cruel death far from home, somewhere unfamiliar just to entertain them. It would be better here, being in control when it happens and at a place that feels calm and like home."
Now he was silent. He wanted to argue, that she had her whole life in front of her, that she should not say, not even think stuff like that. But at the same time - she was right and even if he did not want to admit it, on most days he felt the same.
"Promise me something."
"Anything you want Katie."
"If I get reaped… "
"Which you won't."
"If I get reaped, don't volunteer. It's your last year and mum and dad need at least one of us here and …"
"Shh, stop spiralling Katie."
He pulled his little sister in a hug and wept the tears off her cheek.
"I promise, I won't volunteer. Because you want it and because I know you are very capable of doing it on your own, if the very unlikely happens - But you have to promise me something too, OK?"
His sister nodded.
"Promise me to stop worrying. That's my job. And while we are at it, if I get reaped, don't volunteer." He tried his best to imitate her voice "mum and dad need at least one of us here."
That made her laughed.
"How should I volunteer, that's not possible in the process."
He playfully punched her in the shoulder.
"Oh, I know my little routine-loving, rule-following sister. You would be stubborn enough to find a loophole. But as I said that won't be necessary."
"I hope you are right" She whispered. Both looked at the sea again, very aware of the fact, that it could be the last time they saw it. After a while he jumped to his feet and pulled his sister up as well.
"Come on now. We need to look as best as we can, when we are about to look death in the eyes."
He said it as a joke, but neither of them could laugh, for what he said was painfully true.
Thousands of kilometres away, a previous victor sat at her breakfast table with her oldest kid. The table contained more food at this meal, than other people in the district could eat in a week, still the food was untouched, the mother pale, tired and full of worries.
"Mum, you don't need to worry. Our names are not as often in, as others."
Her son tried to calm her down.
"I know, it's just I have a bad feeling, especially since both of your names are in this year."
"Yes, but again, her name's in once and mine four times. What are the odds?"
His mother did not answer, she just looked outside the window. During the year she tried her best to protect her kids from the cruel world out there, trying to make the most out of her very privileged position, while teaching them that it was a privilege and very few other people could afford living like they did.. Of course she made them work on the plantations as she herself did, still it was nothing compared to working as their life would depend on it. Which it did for the others. When the weather was bad, or a disease was going around she let her kids stay home. She was able to help them with their homework, provide warm meals, both had their own rooms in the big house and they could buy anything they wanted from the stores in town. She often felt guilty for what they could afford. But on days like today, she had to face, that there were things she could not protect her children from, no matter how good they had it. Her son tore her from her thoughts.
"At least our faces won't be broadcast over the whole country."
He tried to start a conversation again.
"Come on mum, you haven't eaten for a week now. At least try some bread and drink something."
"You are right." She reached for a cup of tea and some bread. Then she looked at the rest of the table.
"Could you do me a favour?"
"Sure."
"Bring this to you know who. And on your way back, get your sister, she is at the mayor's again. We need to prepare for the ceremony."
"Will do mum."
"Please and thank you."
And off he went, bringing the leftover foods to the poorest families of the district. Another privilege she fought for and yet it was only tolerated, by the peacekeepers, if it was to obvious and they noticed it, they would throw the food away, knowing too well the families lives depended on it.
"Good morning, Sir"
Closer to the capitol a young man approached one of the districts biggest houses.
"Ah, morning? The sun is barely up." An elderly man answered the door. "What do you want, speak with my daughter perhaps?"
"No, well not entirely. I did what you asked me for, for the last time might I add. And also I wanted to see your daughter."
"You will see her at the ceremony later and also in the train and then before the games begin. Now that I think about it, you will see her a lot, while I won't see her for at least two weeks. And that's really unfair, isn't it?" He tried to close the door, but the young man was faster.
"Hey, you promised, remember?"
"Fine. But not long, she needs to look beautiful today, remember?"
Finally he let him in. The young man knew his way around the house and made it fast to not see the older man again.
"Hey." The woman pulled him into her room.
"Hi."
Pause. Neither knew what to say.
"So, you feel ready?" He asked finally.
"Would be too late, if I didn't. You?"
"That didn't answer the question."
"And that not mine."
They sat down on her bed.
"Heard you arguing with my dad."
"Yeah, he is rather possessive, but that's not new. What is new, is he believes you will come back…"
"That's not new. He believes in me. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. I just don't think it's realistic."
"Oh, please. We did the same training, you know we have better chances than the rest of them. Except maybe two, but depending on the circumstances I'm very likely to win."
"As am I. We did the same training and I think I was better than you."
"You weren't. We both know that, but let's not argue. We'll have plenty of time for that on the train. Besides you're just jealous I have someone believing in me. What is more urgent, have you made a decision for the ceremony?"
"I don't know what you are talking about. You will volunteer, I will volunteer. The decision is clear for months now."
"You know what I mean. They will ask questions, maybe suspect you are a rebel or something. If that minimises our chances, I swear, I'll kill you."
"You are not allowed to do that, before we enter the arena, you know that. Besides it's not my fault. You know that too and they know that. And if that's not going to help, your father knows a lot of people and if I'm lucky he likes me just a little bit, he could help, if it's even a problem. Also it's unique, it'll help us. It's good for the show, that's all they want. You know the drill…"
"I know, I know. If you stand out and get them to like you, you will get sponsors and that is the best strategy of all."
"Exactly, and who could resist a charming, handsome young man, with a mysterious first name."
That made her finally laugh.
"I think I'll have to go before your father kicks me out. See you on the train."
"See you."
He could have used the door, but why bother using the stairs, when he knew her window better than his ancestry.
In the neighbour district, another young man made his way into a big house. The front door was never locked.
"Good morning, Sir."
But he did not get an answer.
"Sir? Sir? Where are you?"
He wandered around, and finally found him in the basement.
"Really, today you work to make this thing float. We don't even have water around here and how should you get this out of …"
"Shut up now, will you?"
"Okay."
Silence.
"Why are you here?"
"'Don't know. Bringing you the tools you asked for? By the way you gave me too much money, here …"
"What did I say? Be quiet now."
There was another pause. Just two man standing under a house looking over what should one day become a boat. Surrounded by exceptional woodwork and woodwork that needed a lot of improvement. If one looked closely, progress could be noticed, from older pieces, to newer ones.
"How often have I told you, to keep the rest of the money?"
"Every time, Sir."
"Then keep it. What do you want from me today?"
The younger man sighed.
"I don't know. Advice probably."
"You know nearly all the rules, there is nothing I can tell you. Can't you get advice from your own father for once?"
"My father is —, well let's say he is unavailable right now. And with all due to respect, Sir. I think with this topic, you are the expert."
"Fine. How many?"
"How many, what?"
"How many times is your name in today?"
"12"
The older man thought for a second, then he shook his had.
"Mine was in 6 times. But I know people who had there name in 40 times at the end and never went. You can't know."
"But what if - what if I. How does one win the games?"
"No one wins the games. And if they draw your name you have time to prepare."
"Prepare?"
"Prepare yourself on how to die fast and hopefully painless. Now go home. Prepare yourself and Senior. You'll get both in trouble if he doesn't attend."
"I know. It's just. The week before it's worse than usually."
"He is just worried and feels helpless. Ask around - a lot of parents don't know what to do, the weeks before. Your dad just picked up a bad habit to cope.
Now out of my basement."
The final words were nearly shouted.
"Will do Sir, and don't forget to prepare yourself."
When the young man finally left, the older one looked at the woodwork's on the wall. Then he reached under his workbench, pulled out a bottle and took a big sip. Yeah, senior had a bad habit, but who hadn't? The weeks he was about to face would not be easy and sometimes this was the only way to bear them. It always felt like he had to go through hell and somehow was harder to cope every year.