Like a Train on a Track // [Kire]

I have been counting down to this day without consciously trying to. As this moment came closer and closer I felt more and more tense, as many people did. When Kirito was crowned they all lost their tension and subsided into excited chatter and collection of bets. My shoulders were still taught, my hands always cramping, and my back was still stiff. I hadn't been waiting for the moment when we would learn who the new victor was, no.

I had been crossing off the days in my mind until Colgate O'Leary left the Capitol.

Today was that day, all the trains were lined up to be sent off back to the victor's homes. Katelyn and her protege were being monitored by cameras almost as if they would disappear without the constant attention. If I were them, I would want to disappear. Having the face of a dead girl was hard, having that dead girl have been the second place tribute in the Games three years ago was harder, but at least the cameras let me be.

I was wearing a cotton jacket with a hood, keeping my hair covered and my face in shadow. No one looked at me. I moved easily through the crowd to the lonely District nine train. There were no cameras here, no journalists, not even any fans that had managed to get by security. There was only me. I smiled, thinking about the look on Colgate's face when he would see me. If he were to only have one visitor, well it may as well be me.

We had left each other that morning in the inn, had hardly said a word as we parted. I knew we both thought we would never see each other again and that would have been true if I weren't here right now. Normally I wouldn't have cared, I would have simply let the boy ride away. Now, though, with Colgate.. I had to see him again.

There's a guard stationed outside of the main train doors. I flip off my hood - sure that no one else was around - and quickly run my fingers through my hair to see that it wasn't standing up. The guard eyed me, and I looked coolly back. As I approached I saw him straighten and get really self-important. The moment I tried to step past him and onto the train he had extended his arm to block me. "Ma'am," he says, curt but not totally unfriendly, "I will ask that you do not board this train." I try to duck under his arm but he moves with me, continuing to block me. "Ma'am, I'm serious. I can not allow you to get on this train. You can see Colgate O'Leary when he next comes to the Capitol."

He didn't understand that no, really I couldn't. I couldn't wait that long. I had to at least say goodbye, or see you soon, or something. I couldn't let him leave thinking that I didn't care if I saw him again or not because that wasn't true.

The guard may have a self-righteous nature to him but so do I. My back straightens, my nose raises, and my eyes narrow the slightest bit. "You will allow me to get on this train, and you will allow me to see Colgate," I take a deep breath, my eyes narrowing further, "and you WILL do it right now!" I feel a childish impulse to stamp my foot but keep myself still. My words have little effect on the guard, except to make him more indignant. It seemed I wouldn't get what I wanted with just words.

I'm moving before he knows what I'm doing and my hands collide with his chest. He stumbles backwards against the train, distracted and thrown off balance, while I slip inside the automatic doors. The air inside isn't much different, but there is something about it that almost seems fresher. Perhaps the filters are better than most of the buildings I'm used to - no expense spared for the tributes - or perhaps it is simply knowing that Colgate is here.

Behind me the doors blow open and the guard glares at me as he strides in. The bruise on his ego is visible from this distance, and I can't help but want to prod at it. "Alright, girl," he spits this as if it's an insult, and as if he's so much older than me - he might be in his late twenties, but no older - coming forward with an arm outstretched to grab me by the arm, "you gotta get off this train." Was that a slip in his well-bred speech? Perhaps this guard wasn't as posh as he pretended to be. I smiled at him as sweetly as I could. "I don't think I will." I've dodged out of his grab and moved to the far end of the cabin before he can steady himself for another attempt. This was why he wasn't a full peacekeeper, he was far too slow.

"You will. Now, on your own, or I will drag you out of here by the hair." He lunged for me again but fell short. Apparently he was bad at judging distances, too. "You do that and I will get my father to have you removed from the guard." My father, in comparison to most of the Capitolites, wasn't overly rich or powerful, but this guy didn't know that. There were enough brats around with important families that the threat would always get attention. Sure enough, he hesitated for a moment. I glared at him, trying to hold a threatening stance. He was about two inches shorter than me, a fact I'm sure he noticed, and in all honesty probably didn't weigh that much more than I did.

If it came to it, I might be able to take him in a fight.

This time when he lunged he managed to snag some of my jacket in a fist, stopping me short. "You're getting off this train." His voice was a little breathy, telling me that he really didn't get much exercise - it was a good thing we were having this little run around then - but at least he took advantage of the innumerable personal hygiene devices up for sale so his breath didn't stink. He shook his fist, by extension shaking me, and I gritted my teeth in the effort of holding myself steady.

"You will let go of me, right now." My voice was filled with overly deliberate patience, underlayed with enough ice to freeze a lake. He hesitated again, the impulse to obey a voice of authority struggling with his notion that I really shouldn't be on this train. The fight was ongoing, so I decided to help him pick the correct decision. "If you don't let go of me right now I will bring Colgate O'Leary in here and have him remove you from this train." My voice had dropped to just barely audible levels. The guard strained to hear me, leaning in close. I could feel his grip on my jacket slacken slightly, but then he adjusted his grip and grabbed my other arm with his free hand.

I was done with playing.

"Colgate bloody O'Leary," I shouted, startling the would-be bouncer, "get your ass in here and tell this idiot to get his hands off of me before I stab him." The guard was quite unsure now, but decided to continue to hold onto me. I didn't try to fight him, just eyed the surroundings for the nearest sharp object.

Somewhere, from another compartment, I hear someone coming. "Last chance," I mutter to the guard.

The idiot doesn't move.

"Suit yourself."