[THIRD PERSON POV]

[DISTRICT FOUR]

The tranquil expanse of District Four's ocean echoed with the laughter of children, readying themselves for rigorous training as the morning mist tenderly kissed their faces. Much like Districts One and Two, Four was a Career District, shaping its youth into adept swimmers skilled in the art of using nets, crafting fishhooks, and navigating the challenges of an oceanic environment. This preparation, however, extended beyond their everyday lives, serving as vital groundwork for the deadly annual event—the Hunger Games.

The Games, conceived as a disciplinary measure for a past rebellion against the Capitol, required each of the twelve districts in Panem to offer up one boy and one girl, aged between 12 and 18, to engage in a lethal battle within an arena crafted by the Capitol's Gamemaker. Enduring profound suffering, heartbreak, and loss, the districts bore the weight of a grim tradition while the affluent citizens of the Capitol basked in their decadent reality television spectacle.

Fortunately, District Four held a more favorable position among the districts, its relative prosperity offering a slightly better chance of shielding its children from the Capitol's cruel grasp. With the occasional Victor to its name, Four's odds were better—but never good enough. The threat of the Hunger Games remained a constant shadow, a reminder that their privilege was fragile, and survival was never guaranteed.

"In today's activity, you will utilize skills from basic swimming lessons and basic to intermediate battle lessons to defeat your opponent. You will not be killing or seriously injuring anyone. You will, however, attempt to get your opponent underwater. Whoever goes underwater first loses. Got it?" stated Penelope Barbeau, one of the many swimming instructors. The eager group of children nodded in unison, looking as excited as ever. "Great. Now, find a partner."

"Mom, what about me?" inquired Penelope's eleven-year-old daughter, Vivian Barbeau. Vivian held an advantage over most of the kids in her District. Having been in the water with her mother and fishing with her father since she could walk, she possessed a skill set that surpassed her peers. Despite her undeniable expertise, she often was excluded from swimming activities due to her unbeatable record. Vivian harbored a deep dislike for being sidelined, yet her involvement was considered unfair by the other children.

"Go ahead, honey. It's the end of the week, after all. Have fun," Penelope smiled as her daughter happily slid off the dock and into the water.

Vivian swam through the many groups of kids, ignoring the groans of frustration that followed once they realized she was joining in. She didn't care. It had been weeks since she was last included in the group training sessions, and she was more than ready to show the children of Four just how much she had improved.

No one wanted to be her partner, and Vivian felt the weight of exclusion sinking in. The other children were either already partnered up or too scared to take her on in a fight. She was prepared to give up but felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a tall, handsome, tan, and bronze-haired boy who had to be at least fourteen. "Need a partner?" he asked, a smirk etching his lips.

"I do," Vivian responded, caught slightly off-guard. She knew many people within Four, but this boy was unfamiliar. She figured he usually participated in the morning class while she attended class in the afternoon. He was also older, and Vivian was often too nervous to interact with older kids. 

The pair found an open spot farther out in the ocean, waiting for the bell to ring. Vivian did her best to ignore his charming gaze, focusing instead on the water around her. She was at the age where she found most boys utterly disgusting—but there was something about him... something undeniably beautiful. Fortunately, her ego burned hotter than any fleeting attraction, leaving little room for distraction. She was here to win, as she always did.

After a few heartbeats, a thunderous bell cut through the waves' gentle lapping, signaling the start of the exercise. With a determined glint, Vivian promptly focused on the boy and unleashed a swift fist towards him. Unexpectedly, he intercepted, skillfully spinning her around and ensnaring her in a tight headlock. Heat surged to Vivian's face, fueled by embarrassment, and his subdued chuckles only intensified her discomfort.

Summoning her resolve, Vivian retaliated by driving her leg backward with the swiftness allowed by the water, connecting with a forceful hit to his midsection. A pained grunt escaped him, prompting a loosening of his grip. Capitalizing on the opportunity, Vivian employed her dominant hand to push his face away, forcing him to release her completely. Unyielding, she made it clear that surrender was not in her vocabulary.

Gliding swiftly through the water, she pulled ahead by a few feet before executing a sharp turn to face her opponent once more. Though discomfort flickered across his face, that persistent smirk of his remained, needling at her and stirring an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability. Around them, the other children—some dripping wet, others barely splashed—finished their exercises and began to gather, eager to watch the undefeated girl square off against her Herculean challenger.

Fueling her determination, Vivian propelled herself through the water, utilizing a nearby rock to launch toward the boy. Capitalizing on her speed, she maneuvered behind him, leaping onto his back. Cinching her legs tightly around his arms, she utilized her hands to pull his forehead backward. The boy thrashed desperately, attempting to resist submersion, showcasing his remaining strength. Despite Vivian's undeniable advantage, the onlookers cheered enthusiastically, sensing the impending triumph, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Just as the thrill of near victory began to settle in her chest, the boy's arms broke free. In one swift motion, he reached back, gripped Vivian under her arms, and flung her aside. With a sharp screech and a loud splash, she plunged beneath the water.

The sting of defeat hit her like a tidal wave, embarrassment and shame crashing over her like relentless waves. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, to escape to the safety of her room—but before she could, he was there, holding her. Too closely.

"Hey," he said softly, brushing her soaked bangs from her eyes with an infuriating grin. This time, avoiding his gaze felt impossible. Vivian bit the inside of her cheeks, determined to hold back the stinging tears threatening to spill. She looked up at him, her expression a raw mix of shock and simmering anger. He only leaned in closer, his voice a teasing whisper.

"Good job, minnow."

Her anger flared instantly, white-hot and overwhelming. With a sharp shove, she broke free from his grip and pushed through the gathered crowd. Their cheers rang in her ears, but she tuned them out, climbing out of the water and running home as fast as her legs could carry her.

Two weeks later, his name was called.

The same boy who had humiliated her in front of her mother and peers—the boy who made her feel small, weak—was reaped for the 65th Hunger Games. The name she had spent days trying to forget was now unavoidable, branded into her mind with chilling permanence.

Finnick Odair.