This is a fan fiction. It should be read in the first person from Katniss's perspective, just like the Hunger Games books themselves. The opening scene takes place in the training center, during the training before the 74th Hunger Games.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way own, claim or otherwise take credit for any of the Hunger Games series or its characters.
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They're going on about the rules: no attacking each other in the training center, don't try to run away, don't be overly torturous with your kills. The gamesmakers have something of a conscience, warped though it has to be. We're teenagers for God's sake. They also mention the thing about the cuffs, but I'm not really listening. I have no desire to see any of these people after the game is done, let alone to own one as a slave. Still, I make a point to remember to struggle hard enough if someone tries to capture me. I'm not going to live as an avox or a slavegirl, even if it means dying in the games.
Weird their rules on the cuffs. We each get issued a set. Get yours around a victim's wrists and you claim her, but that's not enough, you have to get your victim's cuffs around their ankles. Only then do they send a hovercraft to haul them away for safekeeping. Win and they're yours. Lose and they're dead. What kind of hell must it be to watch someone who captured you in the games, fighting for their life, and, by extension, fighting for yours. Either way, I'm not gonna find out. Death beats bondage anyday of the week.
The girl from District 8 is looking at me. She is trying to be sneaky about it, but I can sense her eyes. It seems to go beyond just simple curiosity. Maybe she's angling for an alliance... or sizing me up. I look over the briefing station on plants and berries and she tries not to look at me while she trains with a knife. I'm not wild about any of these people, but, she was the only other volunteer outside of the careers. Maybe I should say hello.
Half an hour later, she sidles up to me at the station for traps and snares. She's careful to stay next to me, not in my eyeline directly, but close enough to know she's there. It's like she's intentionally being non-threatening. Still, that's what someone out for blood might do too.
Finally the unspoken tension is too much to bear.
"You're Luna, right? The tribute from District 8?" I say, feeling like an idiot. I know damn well who she is, and if I didn't our district numbers are on every piece of clothing they give us.
She nods silently. She's not going to offer anything up that easily.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Why'd I volunteer?" she says, reading my mind.
"Yeah."
"The victor's village."
"The victor's village?" I say, not understanding. Then, a guess, "You want to be rich?"
"It's an option," she says, flippantly.
"Yeah, but the other option is dying... you know that, right?"
"And I'm fine with either," with her tone, she could be reading a soup recipe.
"There's more to it though."
She turns and faces me for the first time in our conversation. She meets my gaze and I feel her analyzing everything about me. Her eyes almost look relieved. I get the sense that she's been wanting to look at me like this all day.
"I did it for my family."
"Are they THAT needy?"
"No. Actually, for 8, we're pretty well off."
"I still don't understand."
"I have a disease. They would rather I wasn't around them. So would the rest of the district for that matter. I've felt how uncomfortable they were for a while now. This seemed like a good plan."
"You're sick and so they want you gone, so you volunteered?"
"Katniss, you're a very smart girl, but you repeat stuff a lot. Are you aware of that?"
I'm stunned. Fortunately, she's not expecting a response.
She goes on, "If I win, I get a big house all to myself and nobody has to worry about me. If I lose... still, nobody has to worry about me."
Something still doesn't add up. Besides that being possibly the only thing more heartbreaking than me being here to protect Prim, it just doesn't make sense.
"If you're contagious, then why would they let you volunteer? Shouldn't the Capital have stopped you from even being at the Reaping?"
She's working on another snare, "I'm not contagious."
"Then why is everyone uncomfortable."
"It's a mental disorder. At least that's what they call it at home."
"What's the disorder?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what happens? What does it make you do?"
"It makes me attracted to the wrong gender."
She doesn't put a flourish on it. Not a wink or a smile; she doesn't need to. It's a stunner on the face of it. I'd heard of things like that, but it's not something that I'd ever encountered face to face before. Then again, it's been a whole week of things like that so far.
Later...in the games
The tracker-jackers venom had worn off, but I'm still groggy. I had just enough energy to climb up to a branch ten or twelve feet off the ground. It was as good a place as any to sleep. And sleep was becoming a big need at this point.
Just like the night before, took up a spot on a thick branch, tied my legs to keep from rolling off in the night. They played the anthem, but I was out like a light before I saw the photos of the fallen. It wouldn't have mattered anyways. There were 10 of us left and I had a pretty good idea of who was still out there.
When I wake up, the sun is out. That's bad. I was hoping to be someplace a little less exposed when the sun came up. At any rate, there's nothing to do for it but start walking. Peeta is still out there, and if I can't find him, maybe I can at least find the edge of the map. It's gotta end somewhere.
Something doesn't seem right as I start to climb down. It's weird, I can't place it. A smell maybe, or just a sense that something is different. I pause midway down and take a careful survey. Nothing is readily apparent. Either way, best to get out of here as quick as I can.
When my shoes hit dirt, I draw my bow and pull an arrow from the quiver. No one ever died from being too careful. If there is something wrong here, I'll be ready for it.
20 paces from the tree, I hear the twig snap. The sound is too close, but I can't drop the bow and I can't run with it drawn. The bush to my right explodes in a burst and I make out her dark hair as she pounces out of it. There's enough distance for one shot, but she rolls as soon as she sees me loose and her evasion is just enough. It could have easily gone the other way.
She hits me with her arms out, tackling me before I can get to another arrow. I'm on the ground and trying to get air by the time I figure out what's happening. I'm a bundle of rage and panic but she's obviously planned this. By the time I think to go for my knife, she already has one at my throat. It was a good run.
I feel the point dig into my neck and I assume its the last thing that I'll feel, but instead, something new. Her hand covers my mouth, to keep my death-scream from becoming a target. The world stops spinning long enough for me to see who my attacker is.
I feel like I should have been surprised, or terrified, but instead, I'm stunned. The same stunned that I was when last we spoke in the training room 2 weeks ago. It's Luna. And she's got me pinned.
Her face is close to mine, almost nothing separating us except her hand. "Katniss. Stay quiet. I'm not going to kill you."
