Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games

Chapter 3

Icarus Aguilar- 18

I wasn't sure my father was right anymore. He was telling me how proud he was that I was going to volunteer, and how I was going to bring glory and honor to the District. I wasn't sure that was why I was doing it. One didn't need any more glory or honor. We already had four Victors and whatever Rhoda was. I wasn't really doing it for One. I was doing it for me, because I wanted to be like them. But maybe that wasn't a good enough motivation.

Dad started talking to one of the other trainers and I started to reflect. I'd practically grown up in the Academy, since Dad worked there. Ever since I was little, I'd seen the best and the greatest come through these doors. I'd seen Rhoda kick butt and look sexy doing it. I'd seen Peridot pushing the new recruits and working them until only the finest remained.

My two favorites were two that didn't even win. I'd seen Rapture more times than anyone could have guessed, since he'd been in four Games. Each time, I thought for sure he'd win. He was dedicated and menacingly precise. I was just glad he only went after competitors. Then I thought surely Jynx would win. He was strong as a mountain and just as skilled as he was strong. As soon as I started training, I modeled my strategy after those two. I wanted to be as strong as Jynx and as ruthless as Rapture. That was the way to be the best person I could be, and that was the way to win.

It was silly and prideful to fight just for shallow glory or adoration. Other people's opinions didn't matter. It was silly to be loyal to a District because I was born there. I didn't decide where I was born. I only cared about improving and working to better myself. I wanted to know myself. Jynx, Rapture, Peridot, Rhoda, Hyden, Estrella and Azure all knew who they were. They were Careers and they were winners. I wanted to be like them. Dad didn't think that was a good reason to volunteer, and he usually knew what he was talking about. We'd find out who was right.

Blake Armani (18) Younger at time of POV

Knives cut so easily. They slashed through the training dummy like silk. When it was nothing but a pile of ribbons, I moved on to the combat station. One of our assistants, Gilt, was waiting for me. The thick padding he wore was for his own protection. I wished I had some of my own. It made me nervous to fight men. They were so much bigger than me. But I'd have to do it in the Arena, and I was trying to get used to it.

I knew I had to move quickly when fighting a man. I dodged and weaved, only throwing my own punches at the right moments. I fought defensively, watching myself and my opponent and making sure I didn't do anything stupid. Gilt's fist brushed my cheek as I dodged an instant too slow. There was a smear of makeup on his hand when he pulled away, and I hoped he didn't notice it.

How can it be so different? Every day I fought people in the Academy- men and women. I was one of the best. There was no one I couldn't beat or hold my own against. I shouldn't have been afraid of anyone, but I was. There was someone I couldn't imagine defending myself against. He wasn't stronger than me, but there was something that made me powerless. As soon as I saw him, all my strength and bravery drained away. I felt like a child next to him. A scared, powerless child. And it wasn't only that. I felt like I didn't deserve his affection or time. I felt like all I deserved were the punches and kicks he dealt.

Gilt's fist came at me again, and I didn't dodge in time. It was all familiar- the pain of a curled fist against my face, the way my balance tipped and faltered, and the unforgiving smack of the hard floor against my already bruised back. I hated the high-pitched yelp that came from me as the air rushed from my lungs.

You're not good enough and never will be, I thought. They'll always do this. They'll always be able to hit you, and you deserve it.

I got back up and stood in fighting position in front of Gilt with blood flowing from my nose. The thoughts didn't stop, and I couldn't control that. I could control how I dealt with them, and I could control my actions. I wasn't giving up. No matter how much it hurt, or how much I wanted to cry and run away when I saw my partner was a man, I was going to keep going. Maybe I was right and I wouldn't ever be good enough. That didn't mean I was going to stop trying.

Icarus's form was there the whole time and I didn't even notice! Oops. Anyway, here he is. Icarus is Basque, Spanish, muscular, and basically super hot from the description. Blake's name is Blake because the submitter wanted to change it but didn't want to go through the whole form so I didn't see at first. Her faceclaim is Nicole Linkletter.