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Dead. She was dead. Had been, for a year now. A year exactly in two hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds. Why Cato had decided to remember her death down to the exact minute, he'd never know. Didn't people usually try to forget deaths? Do whatever they could to numb that horrifying memory? Not him, though. No, Cato wanted it fresh in his mind. So he could have something to fuel his hatred towards the Capitol, the Games, and President Snow.
"Why her? Of all people?" Cato would ask himself. Why her. Someone else could have volunteered. Someone who he would have killed in the bloodbath. But no, it was never that easy. Life, was never that easy. Because life cheated everyone.
Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Cato roughly stabbed one of the training dummy's in the stomach with his sword. After her death, he wasn't exactly the same. Then again, who would be normal after they had just watched their loved one die? No one.
He was at the training center nearly all day, every day. Training, trying to converse with others, and helping other people learn better technique - then, of course, screaming at them when they did something wrong. That was his life. And he had to accept it.
Sometimes, okay, that was a lie. Most of the time, his dreams would be filled with her. Kissing her, holding hands with her - just looking at her, even. She never said anything in his dreams though. And he missed her voice. He regretted ever trying to hurt her, ever trying to kill her in the Games when the thought of being the Victor had blinded him.
He hadn't expected this in life. He hadn't expected to fall in love, and long for that one person every. Single. Day. No one had told him these things in life were possible. Especially not with the person he used to despise.
"Cato, don't you ever get tired?" an amused voice quipped from behind him.
Cato sighed and turned to face the small, almost fragile-looking figure that stood before him. "The more you train, the more your endurance builds, Leila, so by your standards, no, I do not."
Leila was thirteen years old, and looked like an ant compared to Cato. He would have never guessed that such an annoying, yet sweet - but also sometimes evil - person would turn out to be his only real friend. She was like a sister to him.
"Well, sometimes training gets hard. You should take a break, " Leila declared, nodding.
Cato laughed slightly. "You're funny."
Leila sighed, rolled her big, green eyes, and crossed her arms. This made Cato chuckle again because, it was astonishing how one small, thirteen year old girl wasn't afraid of him, when practically the rest of the district was.
"Don't laugh at me, I'm serious. You should take a break, " Leila said, pursing her lips.
She knew Cato's story - everyone did, and he didn't particularly like that. Everyone knew Cato was tough, and that he'd get over it soon. Well, that's what they thought, anyway. Unfortunately, for him, Leila knew differently. For someone so young, she was surprisingly good at perceiving one's thoughts and emotions. She knew Cato needed to rest. She knew he was hurting and needed help. But he was stubborn as always, and insisted that he was perfectly fine.
"Fine, you want me to take a break? I'll take a break, " Cato announced, pausing for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow at his small friend, turning around and whacking the training dummy again.
He smirked slightly when he heard Leila give an annoyed huff. "That's not what I meant, " she said, stepping in front of Cato, who would have hit her with his sword if he hadn't known she would come in front of him.
