DIVING || OC x Finnick Odair

Chapter 1

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Part One | The Mentors

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I'm a fisher.

Officially the title is Aquatic Organism Huntsman, a title given by the Capitol to attempt to sophisticate the leading career within District Four, but nobody ever calls it that. The vocabulary was much too complicated, causing you to stumble upon the words, so that it was much simpler to call it by what it was. A fisher.

Fishers were common within District Four, where there was more water than land; it tended to be where we got our resources from. Food, materials, medicines. The majority of our education was preparing us for a life at sea; how to fish, how to make nets, how to repair sinking boats. And we took immense pride in our fishing industry, preferring to eat only the fish from our shores, constantly designing and creating ships that were much grander than those of the other districts.

District Four took pride in many things, other than its fishing industry, including for its success within the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games was an annual event, televised to be viewed by citizens of the districts and Capitol alike, where twenty-four tributes fought within a randomized arena, for their lives. District Four had a reputation for winning and was supported by the majority of the citizens of the Capitol, as it was a Career District, and trained its youth for the games.

I'm a Career.

A path that many parents brought their children to, in hope for glory and fame within the districts and Capitol, including my own. I had been enrolled at the Training Academy since I was strong enough to wield a sword and had been training ever since. The conditions were tough, with the academy training you in fighting, hunting, shelter-building, plants, swimming. There were several assessments you had to complete each year, building your way up the ranks until you were eventually viable to volunteer as tributes for the Hunger Games.

Technically, trainees under the age of the eighteen weren't able to qualify for the Final Assessment, where you were selected to be that year's tribute, however I had been pushed forward by my mentor to attempt the assessment, after it was decided that District Four wanted to have younger tributes to gain more separation from District One and District Two and gain sympathy from the Capitol's citizens, after the success of fourteen year old Finnick Odair. I had completed the assessment successfully and had been pushed forward to volunteer as the female tribute for the next reaping.

Which was today.

The morning dew had settled upon the grass, the undersides of my feet becoming damp as I crept across our front lawn, fishing rod carried upon my shoulder. I preferred mornings like these, when the sun was barely creeping over the horizon and our neighbors had yet to awaken. Birds sang from the trees, announcing a new day, and everything was so still, so calm.

The shoreline was visible from the front garden of our quaint coastal home and was a mere two minutes' walk away. The ocean reflected the sublime, soft glow that sky emitted, as the sun rose above the horizon, and several small fishing boats could be spotted by the docks, which were unusually empty. Typically, the docks weren't visible, hidden by the multitude of people preparing their nets and bait before setting off into the ocean.

However, today was the day of the reaping, the only official holiday that the citizens of the districts got to enjoy, contrasting against the Capitol, which received perhaps more holidays than workdays. The districts simply couldn't afford this pleasure, having to work to both support themselves and the citizens of the Capitol, and were even apprehensive at first to allowing themselves to take the day of the reaping off. Ultimately, they allowed it, after realizing the emotional impact the day itself could have.