Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

VIII.

I wake up to the soft hum of my holographic forest trying to keep up its appearance, and the artificial light shining brightly on my face.

I groan softly, the nights events coming back to me, and put an arm over my face. I'm usually a morning person, but today I would give anything just to sleep in for a few more minutes. Unfortunately, Snow will not take anything that I have to give.

Giving the world one last groan of utter frustration, I slip out of bed and into the bathroom. By now, I've gotten used to the standard capitol showers, so I'm able to make it out much faster and with much less swear words than I did 8 years ago. Letting out my third groan of this morning, I slip on the half-assed leotard and shuffle out of the door.

I don't know whether to be glad that Jo is not at the table, or to be concerned, but my mental state doesn't allow me to ponder anything further. I just pick up the big bottle of orange juice and the table and gulp it down straight from the bottle – earning a look of utter disgust from John, and munch on a piece of toast, waving good-bye to Blight and slamming the door behind me. The fourth groan of the day is let out of my lips when the elevator is resting on the twelfth floor when I press the button, meaning I'll have to encounter the two barf worthy lovers from their beloved district. I briefly consider hiding, but before I can decide about it, the door opens, and Katniss and Peeta are seen standing on opposite ends of the small elevator both with crossed arms. I step inside trying to put on the face that I first showed them, standing in between the couple. The tension in the elevator can be cut with a knife when the lift stops again at the fourth floor (I groan silently in my mind) and both Finnick and Mags step inside.

"How are you, Mags?" I sign, smiling at the old woman and completely ignoring her district partners presence.

I learnt sign language a year after I met Mags, who though she may not appear to, has a lot to say.

"Better than you and Lover boy over here," She answers with a cheeky grin on her face. I can't help but smile at that, and the confused looks on the district twelve tributes' faces.

"You always are," I sign, and then put my hands down when Finnick turns towards us.

To say that the elevator ride is one of the most awkward I've had in a while would be a factual statement.

After we are finally allowed to escape from the elevator, all of us rush out as though there was something dangerous where we were previously standing. And maybe this isn't clearly visible, but there was - silence. It allowed us to reflect on our own thoughts – something which isn't pleasant at all after surviving the hunger games. And of course, the mix of people in the elevator made the silence even more poisonous. After the rest of the tributes arrive, we are free to use the Capitol facilities to train as we'd like. This 'Training time' however, is used by few. Most of us, this time around, are concerned with alliances. Strategy. Because just brute force or even skill for that matter, will not determine a survivor of these games. I opt to sit in a corner and observe. I slide a stool close to the axes, pick one from the impressive selection and set it down beside my feet, sitting on the school and scraping a knife against its blade slowly – sharpening it. It always helps me think. I catch a glimpse of Katniss, saying something huffily to her so-called lover, and it makes me think of her performance yesterday.

It's no point saying that she isn't skilled. We've all watched her games, and the wit with which she handled situations, is close to remarkable. The display yesterday proved she wouldn't be an easy target. I know it would have gotten her alliance offers. I also know she wouldn't have taken any of them. Katniss and Peeta are at a clear disadvantage in that they're the only pair that nobody minds seeing go. They don't know any of us. I can understand why she'd be hesitant to ally with any of us; hell, I'm hesitant to ally with some people; and I've known most of these guys for 8 years. But, not allying means that it's just her and Peeta, which isn't a very strong duo.

Leaving the two lovers, I let my eyes stray to Beetee and Wiress. They're sitting with each other at the traps and hunting section, in between the forests, twisting wires into useful things. Both of them seem to have given up on the physical aspects of the games; and Wiress seems to be in a particularly fragile state of mind. Still, they can win their games with their wits alone. The things that go on in his mind are things that none of us can even begin to comprehend. They don't deserve this. They deserve to live out the rest of their days as far away from Snow as possible peacefully. There isn't a peaceful death in the hunger games. Ever.

But then again, Mags doesn't deserve this either.

Neither does Blight.

Nor does Finnick. My eyes find the blonde boy, who for once in his life looks sullen, sitting at the edible plants station and pressing wrong answers onto the screen in front of him. I manage to tear my eyes away from him and get up. I walk over the pair of district three tributes.

"Hi, Beetee, Wiress." I greet, sitting down in a log, gently taking the trap from Wiress, and correcting it so it snaps shut when one of the holographic hares runs into it.

"Hello, Kendria," Beetee greets me, as Wiress smile at me gratefully. "How's Danny?"

Danny had taken a particular interest in smart things from district 3, and me being a victor, allowed him to travel there to learn a little about those things. I couldn't tell anyone the specifics if they held a gun to my head though, since I didn't understand anything that he said for the week after he came back. He met Beetee on that trip.

"Great. Well," I say, thinking about how 'great' he could possibly be when his sister is back in the hunger games. "He's holding up, anyway."

"Glad to hear that. I really do wish we could've seen you again, but under different circumstances."

I breathe in sharply through my nose in agreement. "Yeah. That would've been better."

He chuckles, and I follow suit, looking at the game makers balcony. They seem bored. None of us are 'showcasing' our skills as we're supposed to do, rather catching up with old friends.

"They've shielded themselves," I note, looking at the blurry patch at the edge of the balcony.

"So, you haven't forgotten everything I said," He says, patting me on the back.

"Of course not! Do you think it's the bounce back kind of shield?"

"I'm not sure," He says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of nose, "The only accurate way to say that would be to test the theory."

"Well," I say smirking, "If you say so. I think it'll make it fall straight to the ledge that isn't covered."

And then I stalk away from the pair with Beetee watching me intently, picking up a small knife on my way to the wall opposite the game makers. I flick my wrist with the knife to get a feel of the weight, and suddenly hurl it at the game makers. My movement is so quick nobody notices what happened until the peacekeepers storm up to me. In the gaps of their arms which move to restrain me, I see the knife hit the forcefield and slide down, just as I had predicted. Can't have tributes trying to kill themselves by getting the weapons to come back at them. I catch Beetee's eyes, and give him a small smile, and then am escorted back to my room for the rest of the day.

Miraculously, it's only when I start to scream and kick against the restraints (Just for the sake of it) do any of the other tributes notice I've done something wrong.

Except Beetee.

And Finnick. Finnick was watching me too.

Published: 11 December, 2023