Flare - Chapter VI:

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In order to whet the audiences' appetites before all tributes try to kill each other for the Capitol's amusement, after opening the games with the Tribute Parade, the next events scheduled include the televised announcement of the training score and the Tribute interviews.

After that, the Hunger Games would finally begin.

The combat and survival training took place for three days.

During the period spent inside the gymnasium of the Training Center, Solanum spent half of the time observing her fellow tributes, a quarter of the time taking advantage of training resources she hadn't had the opportunity to practice in the woods of District 12, and the final quarter worrying about her strategy and plan during the games.

Initially, Solanum thought that it would be better to stand out, attract more attention and good favor to arm herself with more chances to survive. She wasn't usually so showy, but circumstances pushed her into this situation, and now-

She was unsure how to go on from here.

The presence of Gale for one made the situation more complicated than it already was. Considering that Gale seemed invested during combat training and was actually approached by the Careers the other day-

Solanum honestly didn't want to be the one to put him down.

She hoped he wouldn't join them.

(Once he does, the chances of him lasting long enough that she had to kill him herself in order to win was far higher than she was comfortable with.)

(Solanum could do it.)

(The only reason holding her back was his connection to her family and Katniss' attachment to him at this point.)

(However, she preferred not to do so, if she could help it.)

Sometimes, during situations like this, Solanum couldn't help but wish that she was more like Kakashi than she was Solanum.

(She was Kakashi but he wasn't her and for all intents and purposes, her relative inexperience was working against her.)

(Solanum only got the essence, you see, and barely anything from his missions and his experience as a leader. As a spy. As a jounin.)

(Although Hatake Kakashi spent most of his life doing missions for the village, leading covert operations in order to protect the Konoha's assets, he didn't count these experiences as an integral part of his being - of who he was as a person.)

(All Solanum inherited through her dreams were Kakashi's trauma, his team, his comrades, and the death of people he cared about very much.)

(Then again, if Solanum was more Kakashi than Solanum, she felt that-)

(He would kill everyone, then kill himself for good measure.)

(Or he would go to partner with Gale for efficiency to kill everyone, then kill himself - be foolish like Obito were, surrendering the people they care about to someone who had their own burdens to carry.)

Solanum didn't want to die.

At least not without taking half of Capitol down with her.

...

..

.

Escaping the Training Center means death. Not to mention the Peacekeepers guarding the room or the elevated balcony at the top of the gymnasium with pompous old men watching kids train themselves before they culled like pigs for entertainment, there were monitors everywhere and force fields to keep tributes in check.

Careers of Districts 1, 2, and 4 already had an alliance in place - with Thresh and possibly Gale being considered to be part of their group.

Other tributes kept to themselves and tried not to hyperventilate as they try to have a fighting chance of surviving to the end.

There were sober ones. Like that Foxface from District 5, smart enough to spend her time identifying plants and focus more on survival skills instead of combat, and Rue from District 11. She was as young as Prim was, calm and light with an equanimity that's mature for her age.

No one really tried to approach Solanum.

(Even Gale didn't and they barely communicated even in their assigned district's common room.)

(They mostly just see each other when communicating with Haymitch and even then, they tried to politely ignore each other.)

Perhaps, her petite stature made them underestimate her too much.

Maybe it was the fuck off aura she was giving.

Or mayhaps it was because she spent most of her time avoiding people as she flitted from one station to another.

Whatever the reason was, it worked for her and suited her purposes just fine.

Solanum had mostly frequented survival stations, getting herself familiar with the tools that she could possibly get once she was in the Cornucopia. Based on the discussion she had with Haymitch, although these tools were pretty straightforward, there wasn't any harm in familiarizing herself with these tools enough so that she could use any of it immediately if in a pinch.

After all, there were tributes who died before because they didn't know how to use the water filter provided by the Gamemakers right, and Solanum would like to cover her bases as much as she could while she still had the opportunity to do so.

As she waited for her turn for the training evaluations, she glanced at Gale lightly. "Good luck," Solanum murmured.

Gale nodded at her.

After 15 minutes or so, it was her turn.

..

.

As she entered the gymnasium, Solanum could see the disinterest the Gamemakers currently have for her.

She could understand. She was the last tribute. Avoxes were serving the food and time was better spent networking than paying attention to a frail-looking girl who likely wouldn't even last the initial bloodbath anyway.

"Solanum Everdeen. District 12," Solanum mentioned offhandedly, not even looking at the balcony as she moved towards the combat training stations.

Whatever they take that introduction as, cowardice, defiance, or disinterest-

Solanum doesn't care.

Regardless of their reaction or lack thereof, making an impression on these men wasn't on her agenda. They weren't the audience, the potential sponsors that would give her a fighting chance.

Just as long as they give her a reasonable score, provided that she gave a stable performance, it wouldn't sour the impression the audience already has of her.

Getting their attention felt too much like pandering when Solanum could just let her skill speak for herself.

She focused on the dummy in front of her, thumbing on the bottom of the knives she was holding casually. She took a breath and let herself become more at ease at the thought of holding weapons in her hands.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of knives sent simultaneously on the dummy's critical points echoed around the room, burying deep until only the handle could be seen, silencing the rabble on the elevated balcony for a second before resuming again with a loud laugh.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the Avox present a roasted suckling pig.

How nice.

As she proceeded to throw another set of knives to other critical points of the dummy in front of her, Solanum absentmindedly wondered if she could request the Avox assigned to her for one after this.

She hummed.

She proceeded to move to the spear, to use the bow and arrow, to the axe, letting herself fall into a rhythm as she moved farther and farther yet continued to perform with the same accurate strike to every killing point.

Solanum barely noticed the growing silence as she let herself become more engrossed in weapons practice. She only stopped once there weren't any weapons left in the container she lugged around to showcase her skill.

Considering that she already well passed the fifteen-minute mark, reminded by Haymitch before both she and Gale waited outside in the gymnasium, Solanum figured that she could just leave since no one was talking.

"I'm done," She took the initiative to announce to the balcony, taking note of the polished-looking man with a beard looking at her in calculation and pleased surprise before turning to go back to her apartment.

(Seemed like the Head Gamemaker from the looks of it.)

(Noted.)

(Solanum would kill him first if she ever gets out of the Games alive.)

-----

Haymitch Abernathy had experienced a lot.

It had been years. Being the only mentor of District 12, the only winner alive that somehow through sheer luck managed to win the games-

He was a shit teacher.

Haymitch was self-aware enough to admit that.

Tormented by memories of before. Of guilt. Of lives that he failed to save from the Capitol's machinations.

He had numerous tributes under his care. Year after year after year, they died until he himself lost all hope and drowned himself in liquor.

Until he decided not to care anymore because caring and getting attached hurt too much.

At least until he got to meet this year's tributes.

Solanum Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne.

Had they been chosen on separate years, Haymitch was sure they could've won, joined him in the mentors' lineup, and done a far better job since both of them equally got their shit together.

Unlike the tributes he mentored before, the two took advantage of his experience, his knowledge, his character, and his connections to help them gain every advantage they could get. They sucked him dry, scheduling every free time that they had after combat and survival training to ask for mentorship and advice on every possible scenario they thought could possibly happen based on what they already know.

It had been years since he was tired like this. Years since he worked this hard and expended this much effort in keeping the tributes under his care alive.

From the short time they spent together, Haymitch believed that the two had the grit, the strength, and the drive to grab the Capitol and their stupid games by the balls.

Maybe one would say that he was getting ahead of himself.

After all, the Careers from the favored districts weren't there just for show, but Haymitch-

Haymitch truly believed that one of them could win.

(It felt like the current Hunger Games was merely a hurdle or a stepping stone for the two and both are meant for something bigger than this.)

.

Almost everyone on the team waited with bated breath as Caesar Flickerman announced the training scores of each tribute.

Almost everyone that was, since the tributes who should've been more worried were quite relaxed. Solanum was even free enough to eat the snacks that were left untouched by the table.

"District 11. Thresh, 10."

"Rue, 7."

There was a pause as the two's portraits were flashed on the screen with their name, scores, and chances of winning according to the Gamemaker's formula.

"Now last but not the least, District 12." The blue-haired host smiled.

"Gale, 10," He then paused eyes widening in surprise.

"Solanum, an 11."

There was silence in the room before all of the team, Cinna, Portia, and Effie cheered, hugging each other in celebration.

"Truly amazing. Full of surprises for many districts this year everyone." Caesar laughed.

The sound of the television served as background music as the faces of both Gale and Solanum flashed on the screen, their percentage of winning, reaching levels that Careers were only able to do so before.

(Haymitch could understand their joy. After all, higher scores meant higher bonuses and added prestige. Especially since Cinna's team was relatively new to the industry.)

(This painted a target into the two tributes' backs, however, decreasing their chances of survival give or take.)

(It could either verge into a situation where Careers would take them into their group or they would be the first to be hunted and killed to squash competitors from the get-go.)

(The only boon here was that they could further stabilize their sponsor base. Solanum more so than Gale, since Gale's good looks and performance during the Tribute Parade had already netted himself a fanbase that was slowly rivaling the one Finnick Odair had during the year he participated.)

Not that Gale and Solanum appeared worried. Unlike the joyous atmosphere, they were more restrained and smiled politely at the well-wishes and congratulations given by the others.

The two seemed unsurprised as if they expected the results they were given.

As if it were a matter of course that they were given scores that can rival and even surpass the ones given to Careers with far more years of training and supervision tailored for winning the games under their belt.

(He suspected their identities already, but Haymitch didn't have as much solid evidence.)

(After all, he already cut ties with the rebellion years ago when they failed to save his family.)

(Haymitch dearly hoped both of them knew what they were doing.)

"Congratulations," Gale murmured suddenly.

Solanum took a bite of the snack in her hand. "You too."

There was silence after that.

Haymitch sighed.

Most conversations between the two fall off like this, never failing to make onlookers uncomfortable.

Haymitch would be annoyed since he was almost always part of the spectator during these awkward silences, but he did understand.

After all, who would like to play nice with someone you could possibly kill a week after?

Both weren't hypocrites.

"Be careful," Haymitch commented, reaching out to take the bottle of liquor hidden in his coat. "You'll probably get mobbed the first step you take in the arena." He barked out a laugh. "Careers are fucked up that way."

Solanum replied bemusedly, unruffled. "You have something in your teeth."

She stands up, waving at Cinna and the others casually. "I'm going back to my room."

"We would still be having the interviews preparation tomorrow," Haymitch reminded.

Gale nodded at him before following suit, apparently as disinterested as Solanum in celebrating their high score with the team further.

(Both had kept their distance with their stylists and Effie, preferring to treat them at arm's length without being impolite.)

(Sober of them, to be honest.)

Haymitch hummed.

Only three days left before the start of the Games-

(Haymitch had observed grown men broke down for less before and the fact that both have this much composure even in the face of what seemed to be impending death-)

(Such a shame, really.)

As he threw his head back to enjoy a sip of gin, Haymitch smiled at Effie's discontented countenance amusedly.

"Cheers."