Disclaimer : If I wrote those awesome series, well…I am sure you guys are going to HATE me. :)

Katniss’ POV

“ Why are you crying?”

Wha-wha-what?

“ Katniss. Look at me.”

I open my eyes , blurry at first but then his grinning face becomes clearer.

“ Percy.”

“ Hey there, Catnip.”

“ You’re…you’re alive!” I exclaim, feeling his face. “ You’re alive!” I laugh in relief. “ You’re warm and … and,” I run my hands on his chest, feeling for the wound, “ you’ve stopped bleeding.”

“ Yeah, Katniss,” he says, rolling his eyes. “ I’m alive.”

“ How…how is that possible?” I ask him as I help him sit up. He pats himself, doing a check on himself. His lips curve up in a smirk when he sees the hilt of the sword protruding out of his chest.

“ I have a medical condition known as situs inversus totalis or situs inversus with dextrocardia.”

“ What does that mean?” I ask, frowning at the foreign language he spoke in. Well, partially spoke in.

“ It means my organs are in the opposite place,” he explains, toying with the sword hilt. I swat his hand away from the weapon, afraid that he’d somehow drop dead yet again. “ So my heart is on the right instead of the normal position.”

“ You should talk about all of this with Prim instead of me because I don’t understand a word you say,” I say, laughing. He laughs along with me, the sound so pleasant in this total silence. Then, he suddenly looks at me seriously. “ What?” I ask him, still grinning.

“ When are you going to snap out of this?” he asks me quietly, putting his hands on mine.

“ Snap out of what?” I ask him back, feeling a little bit confused.

“ Snap out of this,” he says, cupping my face in his hands. “ You really need to.”

“ I…I don’t understand you,” I say, feeling more and more confused, yet there is some dread in my heart. Surely…?

“ I have to go,” he tells me, leaning in closer and plants a kiss on my lips. “ I don’t belong here anymore.”

“ Wait. What do you mean? Percy, I – “  I grab at his hand as he gets up to his feet but then let go of it, shocked at how cold it is. “ Percy, your hand…”

“ I have to go,” he says, smiling at me sadly before sliding down the Cornucopia. “ Goodbye, Katniss. One day, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“ Percy. Percy! Where are you going?” I yell at him, half-angry, half-crying. “ Take me with you!” He smiles at me, waves again before disappearing into the woods. “ Percy!”

“ Katniss!”

My eyes fly open when I feel someone shaking me by the shoulder.

“ Snap out of it!”

“ Haymitch?” I ask croakily, squinting a bit when I realize there’s some blinding light focused on my face.. “ Is that you?” I immediately felt at my cheeks. Wet and sticky. “ What are you doing here?” 

“ It’s time to go home, sweetheart,” he says in a surprisingly gentle voice. “ You have to let him go.”

Let him go? I look at the pale face on my lap and renewed sobs rack through my body. “ No...no…NO!” I scream. “ He’s not dead! He’s not dead! I just talked to him!”

“ Katniss,” Haymitch tries to reason with me but I suppose I’ve gone off the deep end, what with all the screaming and stuff. Several medical personnel tries to pry the body away from me but I lash my knife (which is hidden under my belt) at them.

“ Stay away from him!” I screech at them. “ Don’t take him away!” I sob as I held him close to my chest. “ Don’t take him away…..”

“ Do it,” I hear Haymitch say to someone and before I could defend myself, something sharp pierce my skin and I felt some cool liquid course through my veins. “ It’s for your own good, sweetheart,” I hear him again before the darkness engulfs me.

******************************

“ Oh, they did a full body polish on you!” Flavius says his tone envious.  “ Not a flaw left on your skin!”

I ignore his comment as I stare straight at the full-body length mirror in front of me.

It’s been probably a week or more after the Games ended. After they extracted me and…and Percy from the arena, I’ve been in and out of consciousness. Actually, I wasn’t conscious for more than 10 minutes before they knock me out again. Every. Single. Time.

And now, they’re preparing me for the Victor’s Night.

Which, if not at Haymitch’s orders, I won’t even have the slightest interest to attend.

They take care of the shower settings for me, and they go to work with my hair, nails and makeup when I’m done. They chatter continuously that I barely have to reply, which is good, since I don’t feel talkative. It’s funny, because even though they’re rattling on about the Games, it’s all about where they were or how they felt when a specific event occurred.  “ I was still in bed!” “ I just had my eyebrows dyed!” “ I swear I nearly fainted!” Everything’s about themselves. Not the dying boys and girls in the arena.

They did, however, convey their condolences on Percy’s death. Olivia said she weeps when I sang the song to him. Flavius said he wished he had known Percy better. Venia said he had died bravely and that I should not mourn him too much.

But none of those made me feel better.

I want something more.

Something…

Something to make sure Rue, Percy and all the other kids didn’t die without getting any justice.

Something like...

Revenge , maybe?

“ You’ve got a lot on your mind since you came out of the arena, Katniss,” a soothing, calm voice says and my head snaps towards the source of the sound. “ Aren’t you happy that you’re the victor for this year?” he asks, cocking his head slightly.

“ I don’t know what to feel anymore,” I say in an almost zombie-like manner.

 “ Do you want to tell me about that night?”

Something about his voice made me want to scream. Made me want to vent out all of my anger at the Capitol.  Almost made me break down.

“ Yes,” I say quietly and before I knew it, we were sitting and I had my hands in his and he is listening intently as I describe all of the events of that…of that night.

After I finish recounting the tale, he was quiet for a while. “ Katniss,” he begins. “ There’s a quote that I am personally fond of, that I’ve kept with me the whole time.”

“ What quote?”

“ I’m not sure if you’ve read it – “

“ We don’t have enough time to laze around and read in District Twelve, Cinna,” I say curtly. He nods, smiling slightly at my bluntness.

“ Ah, I’ve quite forgotten. Anyway, there’s this series that is my all time favourite. It’s a children’s book.” I scoff at that. “ You may think it’s silly but there are quite a lot of values it taught me as a child,” he says, ignoring me rolling my eyes.

“ Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I ask him sarcastically.

“ That those who leave us never truly do.” That caught me off guard. “ Percy is gone only physically, Katniss  . But he will always be here, with us. Right here in our heart,” he says gently, taking my hand and placing it over my heart. “ Remember that, okay?”

I stare at him, unable to utter even a single word. He smiles and plants a kiss on my forehead.

“ Right. On to matters at hand,” he says, clapping his hands. “ Try this dress,” he tells me, pointing at an unassuming yellow dress on the bed.

“ Have you given up on the whole ‘girl on fire’ thing?” I ask, feeling slightly rejuvenated now that I’ve let go some of the burden I’ve been carrying since I left the arena.

“ You tell me,” he says, and slips the dress over my head.

I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves those weeks of hunger has stolen from my body. My hands immediately went to said part, frowning at him.

“ It was either that or surgical alteration,” he immediately says. “ Haymitch went nuts when they told him that. He fought with them about it. This was the compromise. Hang on!” he says, stopping me from looking at my reflection. “ You still need your shoes.”

Venia helps me into a pair of leather sandals and I turn to the mirror.

“ Gee, Katniss. You look awfully dashing!” I could hear his voice say in my head, his tone mocking. But I’m sure there’s a sincere smile on his face. “ I’m not even embarrassed to tell everyone you’re my spur-of-the-moment girlfriend!”

“ What do you think?” Cinna’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

“ I think it’s the best yet,” I say, my eyes wandering all over the dress. When I manage to tear my eyes away from the dress, I gasp. My hair’s loose, held back by a simple hair band. The makeup rounds and fills out the sharp angles of my face. A clear polish coats my fingernails. The sleeveless dress is gathered at my ribs, largely eliminating any curves the padding might have given me. The hem falls just to my knees. Without the heels, you can see my true stature. I look, very simply, like a young girl. Fourteen, at most. Innocent. Harmless.

I just won the Hunger Games and Cinna managed to make me look harmless, instead of deadly.

Wow.

But it’s a very calculating look. There must be a reason why Cinna gave me this look. Nothing he designs is arbitrary.

“ I look innocent,” I finally say after a lot of thinking.

“ Well, you are innocent looking,” he smiles. But there’s something more than that. There’s something else. His eyes are  trying to tell me of something that he is not allowed to say out loud. What is it? “ It’s just that I’m not sure you’d be that happy if I designed something like mourning clothes, now, would you?”

“ Mourning clothes? What for? Mourning for my victory?” I ask him sarcastically.

He smiles. “ That’s the spirit,” he says softly. “ Chins up now.”

We take the elevator to the level where we trained. It’s customary for the victor and his/her support team to rise from beneath the stage. First the prep team, followed by the escort, then the stylist, the mentor and finally the victor. Me, this year.

The rumbling of the crowd is loud, that I didn’t notice Haymitch until he touches me on the shoulder. I spring away, startled, still half in the arena, I guess.

“ Easy, just me. Let’s have a look at you,” Haymitch says.  I hold out my arms and turn once. “ Good enough.”

It’s not much of a compliment. “ But what?” I ask.

Haymitch’s eyes seem to shift around the musty holding space and he seems to make a decision. “ But nothing. How about a hug for luck?”

That’s…quite odd. Especially coming from him, but after all, we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. Only, when I put my arms around his neck, I find myself trapped in his embrace. He begins talking very fast, very quietly in my ear, my hair concealing his lips.

“ Listen up. You’re in trouble. Word is the Capitol’s furious at you showing them up in the arena.”

“ How is that?” I ask quietly, plastering a small smile on my face as though Haymitch had said something fairly amusing.

“ The audience is angry at them for letting…for letting Percy die. And the Capitol, in turn, is angry at you for refusing to be crowned as victor when they got you out of the arena. You were like a wild animal let loose.”

“ I was?” I ask him, feeling surprised.

“ You don’t remember, sweetheart?” he asks drily. I smile a bit, shaking my head. “ Try to remember, then. So,” he says, leaning in again as though to plant a kiss on my forehead, “ when they ask you, just say that you were too distraught at the death of your boyfriend, who was also your best friend that you couldn’t think straight. Tell them that you are, in fact, really, really happy that you were crowned as victors.” Haymitch pulls back and adjusts my hair band. “ Got that?”

“ Got it,” I say.

“ Better take our places now,” he leads me to the metal circle. “ This is your night, sweetheart. Enjoy it.” He kisses me on the forehead and disappears into the gloom.

“ Enjoy it. Right,” I mutter sarcastically to myself.

How the hell am I going to enjoy it when the Capitol’s out for my blood? Not to mention I’ve put every one of my loved ones in danger.

My mother. Gale. Prim. Everyone back home.

“ Say that you were too distraught to think straight.”

I’m still distraught. Don’t worry about that.

Well.

Let the real, dangerous Games begin.

A/N: Gah! Writing this chapter is torture! T.T