The 24th Hunger Games: Part One: Kaede

The 24th Hunger Games: Part One: Kaede

The heat was almost unbearable as it weighed on him.  Above, the sun was relentless, but the closeness of people around him was what made it worse.  A light sheen of sweat already adorned his forehead as he waited, patient only on the exterior, his insides churning with nervous energy.  The Reaping had that effect, not just on him, but everyone.  Something about subjecting yourself to a lottery of death made every person-regardless of age- nervous.  This event though, was the only time he found himself surrounded by the people of his district, typically they avoided him as if his hand was contagious.

“Welcome,” a loud solitary voice echoed through the silent crowd.  It was the same man that came every year; a man that was part cheer and happiness, but also part bitterness and hostility.  He didn’t know the man’s name, or frankly cared for it.  To know meant possibly dying.

“Happy Hunger Games,” he paused, a smile spreading across his face, which was disgustingly covered in a shiny, pale dust.  “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”  The smile seemed to mock them, as if he knew already the fate of the tributes he would be in charge of.  Underneath the dust he wore, there was dark skin, but it was the eyes that caught his attention, even as the bowls were wheeled onto the stage; orange like a rumbling fire. 

“I believe we should start with our female tribute,” he drawled out, actually letting some cheer into his gravelly voice.  He strode over to the bowl on the right and stuck his hand in it, not even trying to make a show out of the action, a piece of paper already grasped.  There was a moment of silence as he read it before he spoke the name; “Ashley Brown.”

There was only silence in return as the crowd nearby parted, and a girl stepped out.  She deserved credit for how little fear showed on her face, her dark eyes almost defiant.  Most of the children from the years before had wept or even had run from the impending fate that stage brought.  Ashley though, embraced it, standing resolutely beside the Capitol man.  “Good, good,” he gave her a second of applause -only from himself- as he walked over to the other bowl, snatching another piece deftly.

“And to join her, our male tribute,” another pause as he studied the name.  “Kaede Johnson.”  He felt himself freeze, felt the stares as they all looked at him, but not the way they had for her.  At first there was confusion, but then they all looked at him –not with sympathy- as if he were already dead.  At his side, his hand tensed, like it knew it was the subject of their stares.  “Kaede Johnson.  Where are you?”  For once, the Capitol man had a new expression on his face; a mixture of bewilderment and frustration.  A hand shoved at Kaede’s back, forcing him into a stumble, right in the direction of the stage.  

“Lovely,” was all he heard the man say as he was led to the microphone where Ashley was still standing.  The word itself only seemed to burrow in his mind, marking how little was expected of him.  He had gotten used to it, yes, he learned to deal with the uselessness others had seen in him.  Their stares now though only served to anger him, a fire nearly like the man’s eyes alighting in him.  “We have our tributes from District Seven!”  His voice carried out over the heads of the people, Kaede flinching at his side as he was encouraged to shake Ashley’s hand. 

Their hands met, but Kaede found himself looking into her eyes, which had in one final gaze assessed him and dismissed.  She wouldn’t align herself with him and was making it clear from the start.  The childish side of him figured he didn’t need her, but the realistic side was beginning to tick down the short list of ways he could ever survive the games.  The list had already been short, but now it was minuscule.  They were led off the stage and into the building behind it, separated into rooms so that they could see their families.  Kaede though without family or friends to part with, was left standing in the foyer with the man, waiting on Ashley to finish seeing her’s.  The loneliness that he supposed he should have felt in this moment was absent for once, his other thoughts keeping those at bay.  He had already lost those that could see past his hand; there was nothing left but life.  “How long will I last?”  The Capitol man stopped his conversation with one of the guards and finally looked at Kaede, surprised by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“How long before I die?”  The surprise was replaced with shock as he came closer.

“That depends on you,” was all he replied with.  The answer though was the most honest one he could have gotten.  “He’s the one you should ask.  My name though, if you make it, is Devri Vermillion.”  He smiled, a real one.  “I hope you make it.”  Kaede merely nodded and looked to the individual he had motioned to.  The man stood in the corner, more bored than anything with the situation, showing little investment in the new tributes.  There was nothing as striking about him as there had been with Devri, his hair dark, and eyes almost identically marked with shadow.  His face housed a five o' clock shadow that he assumed would be permanent, given the man's attitude.

“This way,” Devri led him out of the back of the house, and toward a waiting train.  Ashley, and the other man followed them into one of the luxurious cars, both sitting down.  Devri picked up a small bowl of candies, and sat with them, hunting down the orange colored ones with a steady concentration. 

“Who are you?”  Ashley was straight to the point with the unknown man, her eyes set in a glare.

The man looked at her then turned his head to look out the window of the moving train, his bored expression still in place.  “Berkeley,” he stated blandly, which didn’t quite explain his presence.

Devri chuckled across from them, though not looking up from his bowl.  “He is your mentor, girl.”  Ashley sat up, rigid at the term, ‘girl’.

“Then what do you suggest I do to win?” 

He turned his attention back to her with annoyance.  “There is no winning.  Not unless you are from One or Two, where they delight in this.”  Berkeley glanced at Devri, as if awaiting reprimand, but Devri still showed no sign of speaking.  “You survive, girl.”  When she glared at him again he snapped, “And you are a girl.  A Damn annoying one at that.”  He slouched in his seat, and rubbed his forehead, Ashley standing abruptly and walking out of the car.

“And what about me?”  Kaede tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice; tried not to look like every other child he had seen go off to die.

“You?”  Berkeley gave him a strange look, but shook his head, his eyes falling on Kaede’s left hand.  “I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

Kaede leaned closer, and attempted to hide his hand out of sight.  “Please, I know I’m not much, but-.”  He bit his lip, and reigned in his emotions.  He wanted to live, if that was all he had left, even if others would find that the weakest of motivations.  “I want to at least put up a fight.”

Berkeley frowned.  “A fight?  When you can barely hold anything with that?” 

“Yes,” Kaede replied.

“Fine,” he acceded, but not without a grumble.  “The only thing that will possibly keep you alive is running.”  He saw Kaede’s own frown, and continued with a sigh.  “When you find yourself looking at the Cornucopia and the countdown begins, look at the weapons and other tributes.  It makes them think you’ll go for the goods, but when the countdown’s run out, you run to wherever is farthest away.”

“Run?  That’s all?”

“It’s more than I gave her, and it’ll keep you alive.”  He had a point, considering he hadn’t told Ashley much.  “What’s more, do you know the average for the tributes killed the first day?”

“I know there are quite a few.”

“More than a few.  Try six to ten.  That’s nearly half of how many tributes there actually are.”

Kaede nodded, and repeated the information in his head, trying to make it stick.  “And the Careers?”

“Avoid at all costs.  They’ll rip you apart.”

“Noted.”

Berkeley sat forward.  “May I see it?”  Kaede caught where he was staring and made to back up, but at Berkeley’s firm look he held out his hand.  Berkeley’s own cold ones took in his left, feeling its normal and irregular parts.  “I’d like to say you’ll be fine, but with this hand it makes things difficult.”

Kaede didn’t want to be told to give up.  “And?”

“And that means you will have to conserve your hand and energy.”  Berkeley let go of his hand.  “Avoid anything drawn out, got it?”

“Got it.”  Berkeley nodded, and got up, leaving the same way Ashley had.

A ‘clink’ on the glass table beside him was all that alerted him to the fact that Devri was still in the car.  “I’ve never heard him say that much," he mused.  "He must like you.”  Kaede gazed at the glass of candies, none of which were orange now.  “Like I said before, I hope you make it.”  Devri stretched out his legs, landing them on the table, not even trying to look refined.  “You should rest.”

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He didn’t sleep during the ride, instead watching as the landscape passed by in the windows of his compartment.  It was dark, but somehow he could make out the shapes of the trees and hills as they sped past.  The trees though, eventually gave way to a land of lights, lights on buildings, and reflected on the water nearby.  He didn’t need to be told that this was the Capitol, they had made it to be grand even from this distance.

From now on, he would have to be more than just competitive.  He would have to be smart and cunning to at least make it past the first day.  That was really all he could hope for.  Kaede glanced down at his gnarled hand, understanding a little why those from his District had looked at him the way they had.  They didn’t know how hard he had practiced holding an axe; how hard he had trained his hand to not be completely useless.  He had hoped that it would’ve led to a decent job cutting trees, but now it would do even more; be even more.  He would be more.