To the Return {of Hope} // {Arrows//Kirito & Valentina}

Valentina Miristioma

“Go.” I whisper delicately underneath my breath. “Go.” Again that single word pleads for my desires. “Go.” And for a third time, though the Cameras and Capitol love refuses to budge from my Cousin and the other Victors. The mere sight of the fictitious audience nauseates my interior. How can they possibly perform this façade admiration for these Survivors, when they treated them as mere disposable garbage beforehand? And surely they’re attempting to damage their existence, simply because they accomplished not being demolished? All the while the Capitol displays an innocent smile, while slowly destroying their families piece by piece. Will I be the next murdered for them to itch under Kirito’s skin?

The back of my head settles against the tree trunk in defeat. Every year I impatiently wait to greet Kiri after his long departure to the sinister Capitol. And every year I’m reminded that this very Capitol controls more power then illustrated…to no baffled reaction. A deep sigh deflates my chest, as my eyes return to the medicine book Kirito insisted I study during his trip away. For the fourth time my eyes travel across the words and pictures, determined to memorize every valuable fact provided. During the past month I’ve successfully concentrated on the information, though now my vision continues to stagger to what my Cousin is doing.

Off in the distance he’s pleasing the Capitol with the upmost best intentions. If he defied them even vaguely, as we all wish, it’s likely the Arena would have slaughtered more Miristiomas already. Iain was crumbled in example of what they can do in a simple snap. Weaver was exterminated to clarify that not even the Victors are safe from heartache. And thankfully here I still sit, at a local park a nice distance away from the interviews occurring, just as I do every year on this day.

“Go.” But the Cameras won’t, not until they’re good and ready. On this day I’m at least satisfied with the successful return of him, and that should be enough. Seeing him off to the train after each Reaping frightens me beyond explanation. Certainly he’s not returning to the Arena itself, while the Capitol doesn’t ease any concerns. What if they suddenly decide that a low district shouldn’t have this many living Victors? Which is why I’m consistently in this spot at this time, desperate to see him step from the transportation with the other two.

Life that lacked Kirito would not be life at all. Of course I adore my other relatives to the maximum capacity of my love, but he provides a sanctuary I’m unable to locate anywhere else. With him problems aren’t bred to linger, rather examined to solve. After all he’s endured, I’d expect that he’d be the one to saturate under stress. Yet he’s the one encouraging uplift in this cruel reality. Every day he appears to be aiding others, and I can solely strive to follow down his path.

Finally the crew breaks from the worshipped Victors, unfolding my opportunity to greet my Cousin. The book is swiftly shuffled into my bag, and I stumble to my feet in an ungraceful manner. As quickly as my scrawny legs can maneuver, I rush to him with overjoyed steps. “Kirito!” I call out to him from afar, in warning of my presence.

Immediately my arms encircle around him, and the side of my face buries into his luxurious fabric of a shirt. “I’ve missed you.” The obvious is stated, while I refrain from releasing the embrace. “I’m sorry about Weaver and Ionna…I’m sure things will be better next year.” I attempt to comfort, and still my grasp remains locked. Eventually I do depart myself, purely relieved with his return as resembled beneath my petite smirk. “How was the Capitol? Get a chance to teach those Doctors about true healing?” My words are slightly rushed, as if he was about to depart again within minutes. He’s not though. And I decline from smothering him with my words, and attempt to take a breath myself.