I take out some of our nicer clothes. Damian has a button-up flannel shirt and black pants. I finally decide on a lime-green shirt with grey pants. I don't have dresses.

I hear the creaking of the door. It's Dami. He offered (insisted is more like it) to trade in the kills for me today. Since it was the Reaping and all that.

"How much?" I ask. We were always low on portions, but I hoped the chicken would get a little more than a quarter portion. If we were to be Reaped, we needed our energy.

Damian opens his duffel bag and dumped the portions onto the turned-over metal bucket we called our dining table. "Quail Fat got quarter portion. Quail Skinny didn't deserve a portion. Quail Fine got half portion. Chicken got three-quarters because of the messy kill."

I shake my head in disbelief. "That Unkar Plutt. Ever the narcissist."

"It did get us more portions than usual," Damian says. "We have one and a half portions in total. That's better than usual."

I sigh. "I know, but it's not enough so that we can save it for the whole day. Guess we better go out into the scrapyards again today."

Damian rolls his eyes. "Tt. Let's eat."

We were lucky enough to scavenge enough parts in the yards to muster up a water dispenser. I pour some of it into two bowls. Damian sprinkles in the powder and waits for the bread to rise. It doesn't take long.

After the meal, I wash in a remotely private room. No fancy shower system. Just a bucket and another with water. I don't do this often. No point in it. But today's the Reaping. The kriffing Reaping.

I check my watch. 12:42. Time to go.

It's Dami's first year in the Reaping. It's my fourth. I put in my name fifty-two times. This is the only way to get credits in this town, and we need credits if we're going to live here. I argue with Damian until he comes to a mutual agreement of twelve times.

Damian takes his place in his line. I take mine. He knows where to go. He's accompanied me for the past four years. When they take a blood sample, I barely flinch. I've gotten worse burns from Terrible Terrors back in the scrapyards.

The stormtroopers herd us into two sides, boys and girls. I catch a glimpse of Damian before he disappears from my sight.

Everyone quiets down when the senator for District 12, Leia Amidala, walks up onto the podium. Amidala's...curious. She doesn't seem to really like the Empire, but she doesn't try to interdict them. She does her duties. She seems every bit the loyal senator, but she's not enthusiastic about it. I watch her carefully as she makes the announcement she's made every year.

"As you all know, my name is Senator Leia Amidala. Welcome to the Reaping, everyone. Please look to the holoscreens surrounding us for an exclusive video from the Empire." I huff. "Exclusive" as in the same video they show us every year.

The holoscreens flicker online and I watch, like everyone else does. The voiceover begins. "Once, there was the Republic. A system that was harmonious and lively. That is, until the dragons came." The video flickers and a Skrill is seen, roaring at the camera. Damian catches my eye and mouths, Am I supposed to be scared? Tt. I smile. We've tamed Skrills before.

The voiceover continues. "The dragons ripped apart the peace of the Republic. Unsettlement arose amongst the people as the Republic was unable to counter the threat. Fights broke out between the people. It was a terrible time. But soon, Emperor Palpatine created our Empire and defeated the dragons. The people were jubilant. Until it was proven that the people set the dragons free to destroy the Republic."

"District 13. Also known as Metropolis. They had altered the mins of people to hate a harmonious Republic. Metropolis was taken down. And to make sure that the price of all those deaths were paid, the Emperor suggested the Hunger Games. From every district, there must be two sacrifices made: a boy and a girl between the ages of 12 and 19. They will be forced to fight to their deaths until one victor remains. That victor would get the glory and fame the world would desire. This is what makes us the Empire. This is what gives us hope."

The holoscreens fade away. I want to spit, but I don't. The Hunger Games were just another pawn in Laghul's game.

Senator Amidala calls for attention again. "As usual, ladies first." She picks up a name. She reads it. "Arleen Kenneth."

Kriff.

Kriffing karabast.

Damian.

Oh god no.

I take a step forward. Then another. Then another.

A hand grabs my wrist.

Damian. "You can't go."

I kneel down in front of him. "Damian, listen to me. Take ca-"

"No, I'm not letting you reason with me. You're not going."

"Damian, if I had a choice, I wouldn't go. You know that I don't want to leave you. Ever. But this is the Empire we're dealing with. This is Laghul. We need to tread carefully. And if that means we have to play their game, then so be it."

A tear falls from Damian's green eyes. I wipe it away with my hand. Holding back my own tears, I say, "See you soon."

Damian holds me in a tight hug. "See you soon."

The stormtroopers escort me to the podium. Senator Amidala gives me a sympathetic glance. I push it aside. I need to be strong.

Amidala moves to the boy's draw. She doesn't need to call for attention. Everyone is quiet. "Jason Todd," Amidala reads. I don't know the name. I do know the boy who walks up to the podium. He had once stolen a few fish I had caught for a Scauldron.
  
   The Scauldron wasn't very nice to him afterward.

   That was years ago. Now, he's...different. He definitely looks my age. He has black hair and blue eyes. He resembles the sole District 12 victor, Richard Grayson, slightly, but definitely looks younger and messier.

   I don't want to kill him. I saved him once from the Scauldron; what's the point in killing him now?

   But then again, I'm just a pawn in their game.