Over Again

Chapter 1

Modern technology never ceased to disappoint Cato. Six years ago, he toured the Capitol and was amazed by everything they had on display: transparent television screens, intercoms, and a digital menu that allowed him to scroll through hundreds of food options on a small tablet and have it delivered to his suite within minutes.

Granted, those days in the Capitol only led up to the event known as the 74th Hunger Games, which made frequent appearances in his nightmares. That alongside the screams of "Cato! Cato!" by his district partner Clove. Her desperate tone chilled his bones and even after all this time, it was a sound he'd never forget.

Six Years Ago

Clove was the small, feisty girl who grew up in the same town as him. Not that they spoke much; he was three years older than her and they rarely crossed paths except at the Academy. It wasn't until they were both reaped that he thought If I am to win, I'll have to kill her.

He didn't care much for her. She was arrogant and closed off. But the third night on their District floor in the Capitol, he watched her laugh and her eyes gleam when she saw that she could order even the most meniscus things on her tablet. She chose a bag of cashews.

To Cato, that was ridiculous. He spent his time ordering an array of fancy cheeses, steaks sliced so thinly it was practically transparent, warm bread, and roast chicken. Anything to help him put on more weight and muscle before the games. Her choice of a bag of cashews seemed pointless, but it was her laugh that stuck in his mind.

They built an unlikely bond during their training at the games. Alongside the tributes from District One, they formed an alliance. Cato had no problem with them, but he wouldn't allow himself to care enough about anyone in the arena that he would vehemently protect them. Even Clove. He didn't hate her, but they all knew that they were nothing more than allies. Only one person was getting out of their alive, and he'd be damned if it wasn't him.

He had played to his strengths during the Games. Whatever fascination he had about technology and the arts was buried and he put on his Don't Fuck with Me face. He was brutal and he was a playboy and he was the monster. He knew it wasn't the real him. Sure he was built and could have anger issues, but he did what had to be done to win him sponsors. And it wasn't like he didn't have any fun fooling around with the girl from District One.

After the rule was announced that two people from the same district could win, he had felt hopeful. He wasn't looking forward to killing Clove or having someone finish the job. In fact, he had found her quite useful. There was no denying her skills with knives or how agile and fluid she was in the field. Together, they would stand a chance against the pair from Twelve. They spent the next few nights taking turns on night shift while the other got in a few decent hours of sleep. On his shift, he glanced back at her, her expression softened and the scowl usually so present on her face was wiped. She glowed in the firelight.

It wasn't until the feast that Cato realized he cared about Clove as more than an ally. She was a friend. And he almost didn't save her. The boy from Eleven had her pinned to the ground with his legs and one arm, his other searching on the ground. Before his right hand even lifted the rock above their heads, it was sliced off. A wail followed and Cato barely remembered what happened after. Vague memories and flashes of his fist and his sword meeting the boy repeatedly played through his head. After the boy no longer fought back, sinking to the ground with the sound of a canon ringing in his ears, he felt sick to his stomach.