Heads up: there's some racist language in here.

Chantel Ivingen POV

I stood in my row at the Reaping and listened to the others gossip.

"Who do you think they picked this year?" one girl whispered.

"I can't tell. It wasn't Mirror, though. Boy, was she mad!" another said.

"I bet it was Cascade," the first said. None of them even looked at me as I stood in between them. I'm just brainless Chantel, the rich guy's daughter. I probably didn't even know what they were talking about. The crowd hushed as Philomena drew a name.

"Chantel Ivingen!" she read. I sauntered up next to her and waited. This was One, after all. Silence greeted me. I looked through the crowd at the likely suspects. Mirror was glaring at me. Cascade was smiling. Neither of them spoke up.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Philomena prompted. Dead silence.

All right then. Just let the Capitol take care of airheaded little Chantel, is it? Screw you too, I thought. I stared them down and held my head high. I didn't hear the male Tribute's name, since I was busy letting them know I didn't care. I swished my hair and stomped backstage.

"This is ridiculous. Why didn't anyone volunteer?" my father said when he came. He paced the holding room.

"Because nobody likes me," I said.

"Jealous plebians. They're going to be sorry. The Academy isn't the only way to get ahead," he said. Being rich does have benefits. Estrella Vasquez, our first Victor, quit at the Academy a few years back, but we were able to convince her to take on one protégé. She taught me her own favorite weapon, the spear, as well as lots of other tricks. Maybe if the other girls had asked, they would have found out I'm not a powderpuff after all. I wouldn't even have held it against them. I just wanted them to like me.

"You can do this. You belong in the Capitol. Remember that," my father said. He held my wrist and the light sparkled off the jewels in my favorite pink bracelet. Usually I kept it under my sleeve, since it was just another reason for them to hate me. I hugged him before he left. After he was gone, my eyes lingered on my bracelet.

They think I'm as soft and fragile as it is, I thought. Let them.

Kazuo Braun POV

"Hey, Chopsticks!"

"How's it going, Chinkboy?"

"Fing fong chee ling," taunted another boy who was pulling at his eyelids. That one's original. I kept my eyes ahead and walked on.

Know what sucks? When everyone around you looks the same and you're the only nut. Even my parents have standard One blonde hair and green eyes. I have heard every possible way someone can insinuate my mother cheated on my father and that's why he blew his brains out. She didn't, by the way. She does have cancer, since my life wasn't bad enough. I ran the last few steps to Ruby's house and knocked on her door.

"Coming!" she called. She opened the door and I got a shattering look at those precious, bottomless, unearthly blue eyes. We walked to the Reaping hand-in-hand.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked again.

"I'm the best the Academy has had in years," I said. "The instructors said that, not me. Besides, I'm the only one around here who isn't rich. Someone has to pay for Mom's medicine," I said.

"Just stay safe," she said softly. I held up her hand and ran a finger across the brass band I gave her months ago.

"I wouldn't miss this for anything. Keep an eye on Tetra while I'm gone, okay?" I asked. She nodded. I watched her step into line with the other girls. I picked out Tetra in front with the other twelve-year-olds. For once, I was glad to be in One. Neither of them had anything to worry about. When Philomena called the female Tribute's name, a petite girl waited for the volunteer. Nobody spoke up. That hasn't happened since the Academy opened over a decade ago. My stomach fluttered when I thought that it could have been Ruby.

The male Tribute could rest easy. I volunteered before Philomena picked him out of the crowd. When the applause died down, I sat backstage and waited for Ruby and Tetra. Mom couldn't leave her bed.

"I don't know about this, Kazuo. Please don't get hurt," Ruby said. She snuggled up against me and cried softly.

"I'll think of you every moment. We'll have the finest wedding in Panem. Everything will be white and blue, just like your eyes. You can carry blue roses," I said. Ruby wiped her hands over her eyes.

"Roses… Tetra and I made this for you," she said. She handed me a blue rose made of crepe paper.

"It'll be like you're with me," I said.

"After all the ones you gave me, it was only fair," she said. Tetra, who had been impatiently swinging his legs on a bench waiting for the sap to be over, spoke up.

"I did the stem," he said. "Hurry and come home. I can't take care of Mom by myself." I swung him around in a hug, kissed Ruby, and saw them off.

Enough sappy stuff. You have to focus now. If you want to get home, you better prove the Academy right. You better be the best the Games have ever seen.

Pray Jager POV

I stood on my tiptoes as I waited at the Reaping center, then slowly lowered myself down, over and over until my legs burned. Every moment had to count. Even when I wasn't in the Academy, I had to keep training every second. Artemis didn't. I watched my big sister die when I was only six years old. She was one of the first students in the Academy. She should have won, but she didn't work hard enough. The witch from One swept in and cut her down on the first day. Artemis was supposed to be our fourth win in a row. Now she was just a tombstone. I wouldn't let that happen again.

Estrella Vasquez, eighteen years old, favorite weapon spear, eight kills, I ran through her stats as I stood. It's not enough to know your technique. You have to know your enemy, too. I'd watched that Games, and all the others, every night since Artemis died. I know every moment of every Arena. I know every fallen Tribute, and I don't look down on them. They were valiant enough to try.

Ijolite prepared to draw a name. I was ready, but I knew I should wait until I was eighteen. Let the top Academy candidate, Boudicca Rime, take her chance.

"Pray Jager!" Ijolite called. I walked up and looked at Boudicca. She looked aside at someone standing near the center and nodded. She looked back at me and dipper her head respectfully.

She's not going to volunteer? I thought. I knew I had a reputation in the Academy, but I was only fifteen. This was unheard of. All right. Change of plans.

Belisarius joined me after Ijolite Reaped some soft boy I didn't know. That was no surprise- Belisarius is a tank, even though I can tell his heart's not in it. He loomed over me as Ijolite announced us.

"Are you sure you're ready?" my mother asked when she and Dad entered.

"I wasn't planning to go so early, but I can do it," I said.

"Please… be careful. I don't want to lose another baby," she said. She pulled me close and stroked my hair.

"It's okay, Mom. I'll be careful. I'm not going to run in and made a dumb mistake," I said. Dad sat down next to us.

"We brought you Mr. Bear," he said. He walked the teddy bear's tiny legs over the bench and onto my arm. "We know you like Mr. Bear."

"Dad, I'm fifteen!" I said, but we all knew I didn't mean it. I've had Mr. Bear since I can remember. He's just so cuddly and soft. I tucked him into my arm and hugged my parents goodbye. When they were gone, I gave Mr. Bear another cuddle and put him in my pocket.

Better get ready. It's real now, I thought. I repeated the mantra I used when I was training.

"I am the hunter, not the prey. I am the hunter, not the prey. I am the hunter, not the prey…"

Belisarius Komenus POV

Another year, another twenty-three dead kids. And now my family wants me to go. Ever since Makarios won, it's been "Belisarius, when are you going to volunteer?" I always told them I needed more time. Now I'm eighteen. Time's up. I know my way around a sword and a spear, but I don't see the purpose of killing people with them. I'll find out soon.

I stood near some of my buddies from the Academy. To be honest, we weren't really "buddies". They were all training to be the next great killer. I was shoved into the Academy to please my rabid parents. What kind of parents make their kids learn how to kill? They wouldn't even let me finish school. They made me drop out senior year. They said I'd either be rich or dead, so what did it matter? Maybe it mattered because I wanted to know more than killing.

I wasn't surprised when nobody volunteered for Pray. She was our best bet for winning this thing. I hoped she didn't ask me to ally any further than the Career pack. She could probably kill me in a heartbeat. Ijolite picked another name.

"Bacchus Vin!" she called. I steeled my limbs, closed my eyes, and spoke up.

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I said. Bacchus sagged in relief and scuttled off. Precisely one good thing will come of all this. Bacchus is a nice boy, but he'd never get past the Bloodbath. Now he'd live to die another day. I took Pray's deceptively tiny hand and we raised them overhead.

"Let's hear it for Pray Jager and Belisarius Komenus!" Ijolite cheered. I wished she'd shut up. Makarios came backstage with Mom and Dad.

"I knew you could do it, squirt," he said. "Time for you to earn one of these." He clasped a gold bracelet just like the one he wore around my wrist. Oh boy, a blood bracelet, I thought.

"We're so proud of you, Belisarius," my mother said. "Go out there and make us proud."

"Show them what Two is made of," Dad said. He slapped me on the back.

The second they were out of the room, I spat on the bracelet. Ugly, hateful thing. You're just dead children, I thought. My family wanted me to kill anyone I saw. They'd have to live without it. I'm no better than anyone else. I'll do what it takes to stay alive. But that's it.

I go with the flow, so I shall be changing Cassius to Makarios in my 75 Victors fic, because why not.