tomorrow will be kinder

"I think you're going to win," Rue tells her, and Katniss doesn't say anything at first, she just sort of stares off into the woods, which are swaying with an afternoon breeze. It's incredibly peaceful, almost like they aren't in the arena, almost like they both won't be dead by the end of the week. "I want you to win."

Katniss turns away from the trees that are bending with the wind and remind her too much of home. She gives Rue a confused look, almost like she's offended. "Don't you want to win?" she asks.

Rue gives her a small grin, absentmindedly playing with a dead leaf in her hand. "Sure," she says, and she isn't sure if she means it anymore. "Sure I do. But I can't imagine me winning, can you? I'm too small."

Katniss kisses the top of her head, and she smells like the woods, and sweat and almost like the apple orchards back home. All of a sudden, they both feel very homesick. "You're the bravest little girl I know," Katniss whispers, and the wind is loud in both of their ears.

...

Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt at all when the spear hits her square in the chest. It's more like a dull thud than a firecracker exploding in her chest. There's very little feeling at all. It seems that Katniss is feeling enough for the both of them. Rue just stares at her, and she can feel her eyes drooping a little as she galls back onto her back.

Katniss is telling her that she'll be okay over and over again, and Rue wants to tell her that she's okay now, but it takes too much energy. She wants to tell the older girl that she isn't brave, that she isn't in pain. That there isn't anything to be afraid of where she is. She's going to a softer place, where she doesn't have to work in the orchards, where the mockingjays sing her song and she sits underneath a tree on a hill, eating the food she only ever picked for The Capitol. She wants to tell her that she's not afraid.

Rue starts crying, although she doesn't know why. "You have to win," she manages to gasp out, and then she asks Katniss to sing, and she does.

The song starts out quiet, but then the mockingjays pick up the tune without fail, the whisper turning first into a harsh cacophony, but then into a beautiful symphony.

Her eyes close, and she's never felt less afraid.