A/N: I did make one change to a few of the Turtles' names. I took away the "Hamato" part of their names (excluding Leonardo), and gave them Italian last names (with the exception of Raphael and Leonardo). The reason, if things work out right, will be revealed soon. 😉

***

The next morning, the entirety of District One gathered in Town Square, crowded around a large wooden stage. The warm sun beat down on the district from the light sky, and fifty clouds danced among the bright blue sky.

It was beautiful.

Too beautiful for what was about to take place.

Voices rose and clashed as the crowd buzzed, chatting and whispering nervously among themselves. Children huddled close to their parents, their eyes wide and little bodies trembling. Parents held each other, praying that the names of their children would not be drawn from the single glass ball onstage.

Leonardo shuffled anxiously from where he stood, grouped with the other fifteen-year-old males of the district near the stage. Looking around, he thought he spotted Splinter's dark fur in the crowd behind him. Looking to his right, he caught a brief glimpse of Mona, standing among the other eighteen-year-old females. Her deep green scales flashed briefly before she disappeared from view, seeming to melt into the crowd of girls her age.

The blue-masked turtle scratched at the back of his head nervously. His shell felt uncomfortably heavy on his back, and his three-fingered hands were twitching. He pictured his aging father, having to work by himself with no one to help and keep him company.

Please, don't let my name be drawn. I can't leave Father alone.

"Attention, District One," a voice sounded from the stage.

Leo looked up to see an enormous mutant tiger standing onstage, a microphone in his sharp-clawed hands. His dark eyes glittered maliciously...or eye, seeing as his left one was covered by an eyepatch. Instantly, all of District One fell into a dreadful, eerie silence. Leonardo tensed, and nearby, Mona instinctively wrapped her tail around her legs and squeezed tight. Her mother, Carmen, had wished her good luck before the Reaping–the lizard mutant swore she could still feel her warm touch on her cheek.

She's been through so much since Papi passed, she thought mournfully. It would be muy cruel if I were taken away from her as well.

Her scaly hands balled into angry fists.

Those Capitol cobardes.

"I am Tiger Claw," the announcer continued in a deep, rumbling voice. "And I am here to determine which two of this district's children will participate in this year's Games."

As he spoke, his sharp white teeth showed, making Leonardo flinch. Sweat began to form on his brow as Tiger Claw approached the glass bowl, digging a huge, paw-like hand inside. He pulled out two tiny slips of paper. Leo gritted his teeth.

My name could be on one of those.

Tiger Claw read off the first name.

"Monica Verlisa!"

Leonardo gasped, his blue eyes widening.

Mona!

Every muscle in Mona's body tensed so tightly they very well could've popped. The lizard mutant felt as if her world was spinning, collapsing around her. A wail of grief sounded from somewhere in the crowd that she knew belonged to her mother. Still, her face showed no emotion as she walked up in front of her entire district, taking her place on the stage. Tiger Claw smirked slightly before reading over the other name.

"Hamato Leonardo!"

In the back of the crowd, Splinter gasped; his legs buckled and he nearly collapsed, swaying his long tail for balance. Leonardo found that his feet were dragging him forward, out of his age group, in front of the district, up onto the stage beside Mona. His lizard friend gave him an inexpressive look, but her eyes glittered with sympathy, with sorrow.

"Very good," rumbled Tiger Claw. "Your Tributes for District One, Hamato Leonardo and Monica Verlisa!"

Mona's heart clenched as she spotted her mother, whose face was buried in her hands. Not far off, Leonardo spotted Splinter, his head hung with grief. Both Tributes gazed out at their parents, fighting back tears. They were both thinking the same thing.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I had to leave you behind.

***

I'll be more than relieved to see you be whisked off into those Games. You're nothing but a worthless mound of fur, and I'd be better off without you as another one of my burdens!

Those were the last words her mother, Holly, had said to Piper before she was taken out to the Reaping. Now, Holly stood in the crowd in Town Square of District Two. Standing beside her was Piper's Uncle Bill, who had given her a reassuring hug and a kiss on the forehead before they'd set out. Now, the cat mutant stood with the other fourteen-year-olds of the district, her tail twitching nervously. As much as she hated her mother and would love to get away from her, she didn't at all want to be selected as a Tribute. Who in the world wanted to be forced to fight to their inevitable doom?

Certainly not her.

Not too far away, Maddie stood in the middle of the sixteen-year-old girls, shuffling her feet nervously. She ran a few fingers through her black-and-blonde hair, her dark eyes looking down at her shoes. She knew her parents were there–somewhere in the crowd, they were there, to see if her name would be drawn or not.

What if I'm picked? Will they even care? Or will they be too worried about how me loving who I want to is a sin?

She curled her lip in disgust.

"Attention, members of the second district!" a voice rang through Town Square through a microphone.

Madison looked up. Standing on the wooden stage was a slender Chinese man, with sleek black hair, a gold medallion dangling around his neck, and a pair of shades covering his eyes. His shirt was half-open at the top, revealing a series of tattoos on his chest, and another long tattoo swirled all the way down his right arm.

"My name is Hun," said the man, "and it is my duty to announce District Two's Tributes for this year's Hunger Games. We shall start now."

He reached a pale-skinned hand into the single glass ball, grabbing a piece of paper and reading it off.

"Madison Pierce!"

Maddie stiffened with shock, her brown eyes widening. Every muscle in her body seemed to be coated with ice, because she was completely frozen. Her heart caught in her throat. The teenage girl realized every pair of eyes in the district were on her, and she slowly made her way to the stage, hopping up onto it. From there, she could see her parents–looks of shock were plastered onto their faces, their eyes wide.

"And now, for our second Tribute," said Hun.

His hand plunged into the glass ball once more, and when it came out, he held one more slip of paper in his hands. He unfolded it quickly.

"Piper Schafer!"

Piper's light brown fur spiked up, her whiskers twitching, and it took loads of effort to make it lie flat. Her body started to shake, but she forced herself to remain calm as she strode out of the crowd, making her way onto the stage and standing on the other side of Hun.

Don't look, she warned herself. Do not look.

But she looked anyway. Her green gaze swept over District Two, trying to find two familiar faces. She eventually spotted Holly, whose face showed no sign of emotion. Beside her mother, her Uncle Bill looked nauseated, like he would throw up at any time.

"People of the second District, your Tributes for this year's Hunger Games," Hun boomed. "Piper Schafer and Madison Pierce!"

Both girls saw their parents turning away, leaving Town Square. The only one who remained was Uncle Bill, whose concerned expression made Piper's heart snap in two. On the other side of Hun, Maddie silently called out to her mother and father, tears pushing at her eyes.

***

Sarina's bright eyes flashed anxiously as she waited for the Reaping to begin. She twirled a lock of long white hair around her finger, biting her blue-striped lip gently. Not too far away, Donatello's large feet shuffled on the ground, his hands trembling.

This is the day, Donatello. Either you survive another year...or...

...or you don't.

He gulped nervously at the thought.

"Hello, District Three," a distinctly feminine voice almost purred, her voice loud through a microphone.

On the stage that had been set up, a tall, slender young woman stood with a shining microphone in her hands. She wore all black, with her jet-black hair styled into a sort of angled bob cut. Two locks of hair fell down by her pierced ears, and bright red makeup made her golden-brown eyes seem to flare. Her full red lips stretched into an almost wicked sort of smile as she spoke.

"My name is Karai," the girl said, placing her free hand on her hip. "I'm supposed to be your announcer for this year's Hunger Games. And I don't wanna hold things up. So let's start, shall we?"

She reached into the giant glass bowl, pulling out two tiny pieces of paper and unfolding them. She called out the first name.

"Donatello Agosti!"

Sarina's eyes widened in horror as her purple-masked friend made his way onstage. She buried her circuit-covered face in her hands, tears pushing at her eyes.

Donnie...

And then the next name was called.

"Sarina Subject!"

The cyborg girl gasped, her head fluttering lightheadedly. Her legs buckled, and she felt as if her entire body would power down on the spot. She bit her lip harder as she climbed up onto the stage, standing tall and rigid beside Donatello. The purple-clad turtle was too shocked to acknowledge her.

"And there they are," Karai smirked. "Your Tributes for this year's Hunger Games, Donatello Agosti and Sarina Subject!"

Both Tributes gulped, silently crying out with grief for themselves.

***

Hazel was packed in cluster of thirteen-year-old girls, beads of sweat dripping down her copper-colored forehead. Not far away, Penelope stood among the sixteen-year-olds, her long tail wrapped around her feet. With the fifteen-year-old boys was a chubbier, pudgy boy with dark hair and eyes–Timothy.

The three of them were exceedingly nervous, for they knew if they were to be Reaped, the chances of them surviving the Games were slim. Their parents were all there, in the crowd, which only made them feel worse. Just imagining the grief on their faces if they were Reaped...

A fish mutant with smooth, magenta-colored skin and a paler-colored dorsal fin walked into the stage. In his skinny, sticklike arms, he held a microphone, and two sharp white fangs stuck out of his mouth. His robotic legs clanked with every step he took, his menacing yellow eyes surveying all of District Four.

"May I have your attention, please?" he spoke in a deep Brazilian accent. "I am Xever, and I am your announcer for this year's Hunger Games."

The crowd fell into a terrifying silence at his words. Timothy gulped, while Penelope's tail tightened around her legs and Hazel's heart sped up. She and Penelope both found themselves twirling a finger around a loose curl of hair, something they always did when they were nervous.

"Let us get started," Xever said with a devious, fishy smile.

He reached a webbed hand into the glass ball and pulled out a paper slip, unfolding it rapidly and reading over the name.

"Penelope Sharma!"

A sorrowful wail rose up from a woman in the crowd–Penelope's mother, no doubt. Her father held his wife, sobbing, as the lizard mutant took a deep breath and slowly strode forward. Her long tail dragged on the ground behind her, almost tripping her up, but Penelope regained her posture quickly. She climbed up onto the stage, her face expressionless but her heart pounding.

"And, last but not least..." Xever began.

He reached into the ball again, pulling out the final slip and unfolding it.

"Timothy Miller!"

Another set of distraught cries burst out, this time from Timothy's parents. The chubby boy's dark eyes grew wide, perspiration rolling down his face as he slowly pushed his way out of the group of boys his age.

"Oh, good, they're taking the hippo," one of the boys whispered.

"Hippo? I thought he was an elephant," another snickered.

Tears sprang into Timothy's eyes as he walked toward the stage. He was halfway there, his sandaled feet clicking on the grass, when suddenly there was an interruption.

"NO!" the voice of a girl screamed. "WAIT! I volunteer! I volunteer as Tribute!"

Hazel came tearing out of the cluster of thirteen-year-pods, her striking green eyes wide. Timothy opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Hazel darted past him without a word and hopped onto the stage, taking her place beside Xever. Penelope's tail twitched with shock, as a now-sobbing Timothy was herded back to his age group by two Peacekeepers.

"Ah, a volunteer, eh?" Xever asked, turning to Hazel. "What is your name?"

"Hazel," said the tall girl firmly. "Hazel Lewis."

"And there you have it," Xever sneered. "Your Tributes for this year's Hunger Games, Penelope Sharma and Hazel Lewis!"

Both girls on the stage looked at each other with an equal amount of worry in their eyes, both of them sharing their silent fears. In the crowd, their parents sobbed, and Timothy wailed with sorrow as he was led away by his parents.