Ok, I don't actually ship Katniss x Cato, I just thought it would be interesting to write about what might have happened if there were feelings between them. This chapter isn't very exciting, it's basically just what's in the books in my own words. Chapters after this one will be deviating from the books though. Hope you like it. If not, well, that's cool too. Enjoy.

I see him properly for the first time after the opening ceremony. Peeta and I are stood, surrounded by Effie, Haymitch, Cinna and Portia who are all gushing over our fiery debut. Haymitch stops mid sentence, distracted by something or someone I can't see. I follow his gaze and find myself subject to the glare of the monstrous boy from District 2. I remember him from the replay of the reapings. He's a volunteer, like me. Only he didn't step forward to take the place of a sibling or a friend to try and protect someone, he stepped forward because he wanted this. He wants to be placed in an arena and be pitted against 23 other children. I can tell just by looking at him that there's no doubt in his mind that he will win.

Tall, blonde and huge. Not fat. It's pure muscle. I don't envy anyone who ends up in a one-on-one fight with him.

He and his district partner, a small dark-haired girl, are surrounded by their mentors and their stylists, like Peeta and I. He doesn't seem to be taking any notice of them though; his gaze is still fixed on me. Cold and unforgiving. It doesn't take much thought to work out why: He's probably been waiting his whole life for this, in his District competing in the Games isn't so much a certain death sentence as it is an honour. And yet Peeta and I have literally outshone him tonight. We've outshone everyone. The underdogs from District 12, the runts of the litter, have stolen the show.

We have three days in which we are to train and attempt to prepare ourselves for the Games. How ridiculous. How does one prepare themselves for a brutal fight to the death with 23 adversaries in three days?

It's not an issue for me, not really. Years of providing for my mother and Prim has equipped me with valuable hunting skills. I'll be able to feed myself in the arena, providing it isn't a barren wasteland. If I can get my hands on a bow I might even be able to take out a few opponents. I've only ever killed animals, but like Gale said, how different can it be, really?

But what about those who haven't got extensive hunting experience? It takes practice to be able to properly wield a weapon, three days is not nearly enough.

I feel a sudden deep disgust. At the Capitol. At the citizens of the Captiol and at all those who treat the Games like a festivity. It's all well and good when they're on the outside, watching the Games from their fancy apartments, eating their lavish food in their ridiculous clothes. I wonder how they'd fare if they were selected as tribute?

Down in the lowest floors of the Training Centre are the training rooms themselves. Filled with weapons and various stations, each offering to teach a different skill that will prove valuable in the arena, perhaps even life saving.

We stand in a circle, all 24 of us, listening to Atala as she explains the basics.

"No fighting with other tributes," she says, "there'll be plenty of time for that in the arena." She smiles.

Oh, I'm so glad that you find amusement from our predicament, I think bitterly. I glance around the circle, surveying my competitors. I saw them all at the opening ceremony, of course, but this is the first time we're all together without costumes of fire or diamonds. I catch the eye of the boy from District 2 again and he gives me the same cold glare he gave me after the tribute parade. I know that he was irritated that Peeta and I outshone him in the opening ceremonies, courtesy of Cinna and Portia, but I haven't seen him giving Peeta dirty glares, just me. He can't see me as a threat, surely? I haven't displayed any particular qualities that might put him at a disadvantage in the arena. The training scores aren't due to be announced until after our private sessions so it can't be that. And even when they are announced, he's sure to get a higher score than I. He is from District 2 after all. In fact, he's sure to get a higher score than everyone, except perhaps the boy from District 11 who is bigger even than him, though he seems less brutal, but that may just be a ruse.

I'm itching to get my hands on a bow, but Haymitch was insistent that I save that for my private session, and whilst I agree whole-heartedly, it's hard not to march over and snatch the bow out of the hands of the girl from District 1 as she attempts to shoot one of the targets and misses.

Because Haymitch was also insistent that Peeta and I are to remain together throughout these training sessions, giving off the inaccurate impression that the two of us are friends, we head over to the station that offers knot tying lessons. I'm not too bad at it, actually, but I'm not perfect either. Snares are Gale's speciality, whereas mine is shooting. The trainer shows us a simple trap that will leave a human competitor hanging upside down by his ankles. Simple but brilliant.

After we've both mastered the trap we move onto camouflage. Peeta seems to be genuinely enjoying himself as he smears combinations of mud, clay and berry juices onto his skin, creating impressive disguises. He's not a hunter, like me, but if it were down to camouflage, Peeta would win, hands down.

I turn my head and glance around the gymnasium only to find my attention captured by the boy from District 2. As I watch he throws a spear which embeds itself into the heart of a dummy fifteen meters away. Impressive. Or, it would be, if he hadn't spent his whole life training for this.

"I do the cakes."

"The cakes?" I drag my gaze away from the District 2 boy and turn back to Peeta. "What cakes?"

"At home. The iced ones, for the bakery." He says.

I've never been able to afford such luxuries, I'm lucky if I'm able to afford a cup full of sugar, but Prim would always drag me over so that she could look at them whenever we passed the bakery. They sat behind the window, delicately iced in pretty patterns and equally pretty colours. It would take me days of hunting to acquire the right amount of items to trade for me to be able to afford even a small cake, so I can't really deny Prim this simple pleasure. Beauty is hard to come by in District 12. Maybe if I win I'll be able to buy Prim a whole cake. Of course, she won't eat it all herself. She'll split it evenly between the three of us, maybe even slipping some to Buttercup when I'm not looking.

We eat breakfast and dinner on our floor, but for lunch we're shown into a dining room.

The Career Tributes from 1, 2 and 4 dine together, unsurprisingly. You can bet that once we're in the arena, they'll team up and try and hunt the rest of us down before turning on each other.

The rest of the tributes sit alone. I'd have liked to do that, too. Keeping up this charade with Peeta is tiring. Peeta and I are not friends. We know we're not friends and so does everyone else. Friends is not an option, not here when we're going to be placed in an arena and forced to kill one another. But Haymitch is adamant. I would dispute it, what good is the word of an old drunk? But he's our mentor, a Victor and of a Quarter Quell, no less. His advice may be slightly warped, but it's the best I've got.

We strike up conversation and pretend that we're the best of friends. Some of the other Tributes glance over curiously as we laugh together. I see one or two of them look over at their district partners. Perhaps they're wondering if they should be taking a page out of mine and Peeta's book. They shouldn't. This whole façade is only going to blow up in our faces when we reach the arena.

Our second day of training arrives and this time, instead of limiting ourselves to the knot tying and camouflage stations, we try our hand at some weapons. I don't go near the bows, I'm saving that for my private session with Gamemakers. We're throwing the spears that I saw the District 2 boy with yesterday. I'm actually quite good. Years of hunting means that my aim is near perfect, which contributes greatly to spear throwing, as it turns out.

"I think we have a shadow." Peeta murmurs as my spear finds it's mark in the stomach of a dummy. I turn and see the girl from District 11 watching us. She's only 12 and reminds me of Prim. I wonder, if I hadn't volunteered, would she and my sister have teamed up? Her stance reminds me of a bird; she stands tilted up on her toes with her arms slightly extended to her sides, as if ready to take wing at the slightest sound.

"I think her name's Rue."

I pick up another spear and watch as Peeta throws his.

"What can we do about it?" I say a little harshly, because Rue reminds me of my sister so, it almost feels as if, despite my volunteering, my sister is still being forced to compete in the Games. She's not, of course. She'll be sat at home with my mother. Prim will be curled up next to her, their arms wrapped around each other as they grieve for the sister and the daughter that they had to send off to the Capitol. They'll be fine, I tell myself, Gale will bring them the game that I can no longer provide and the baker will keep an eye on Prim.

"Nothing to do," Peeta replies, "just making conversation."

Our third and final day of training arrives. Today is not only our last day of training, but our private sessions will be today, as well. This is the time to show them everything.

As the female tribute from District 12, I will be last out of the 24 tributes. This is unfortunate. By the time they get to me, they will have already had to sit through 23 children trying their hardest to impress them. By the time my turn comes, they will have seen everything already. Nothing I do will make any lasting impression.

No, I shouldn't be thinking that way. I'm a good hunter, I'm excellent with a bow, if I can just hold their attention for long enough to show them, I might be able to earn myself a decent a score. A good 7 or 8.

I keep counting myself out, but what's to stop me from winning these Games? I'm not stupid, I'm reasonably clever, I've been putting food on the table for my family for five years. I've kept Prim and I out of the community home and I've filled all of our stomach's the best I can. If I impress the Gamemakers maybe they'll put a bow in the arena. If I have a bow, I'll have just as much a chance as anyone else.