it's just a large bathtub //thundy blitz

The training center stretched on almost endlessly, and Hero spent the beginning of his morning figuring out what it was stocked with. He took note of the weapons, even some he hadn’t seen before, dummies meant for fighting, plants, camouflage, ropes, fire-making tools… Everything a naïve tribute might need. Hero was most surprised by a medium-sized pool that engulfed the far end of the room. The sight of it made him ache for home, but the stillness of the water and the scent of chlorine ruined his vivid daydreaming. It wasn’t quite the same, and there was no sun to beat down on his back.

Still…

He found himself drawn to it, his heart aching as he closed his eyes and listened to the gentle lap of the water against the pool’s edge. Before he could stop himself, he tugged off his shoes and sat by the wall, dipping his legs in mid-calf.

Thoughts of home enveloped the boy who was supposed to be a stereotypical Tough Guy Career, and he knew he had to get back to business lest he got lost in the sadness of his own daydreams. He didn’t allow himself to linger very long.

He heard the SPLASH and the panic just as he was standing up.

One of the girls threw herself into the water. Under any other circumstance, he might have thought she was doing it for fun, but then he saw her struggle. She flailed around in the water like a dying bird, her arms searching for stability in the depths. The girl was lucky she hadn’t jumped too far into the pool – she was arm’s length away from the edge, and she used it to keep herself afloat.

“You alright?” Hero asked, eyebrows raised.

(He forgot that he was supposed to be her competition.)

“You seemed a little panicked there. Don’t you know how to swim?”

The poor girl in front of him was still struggling to catch her breath. Hero tried to recall what District she was from. Six? Five? Three? He quickly gave up; it was useless trying to remember information he never tried to learn in the first place. He could have studied them on the train, but it seemed useless at the time. You know, being drunk and all.

"Yeah... I actually never learned how to swim. I didn't really get many chances back in District Five."

Ah, five.

Come to think of it, Hero didn’t know a whole lotta people who didn’t know how to swim. It kind of came with the territory, ya know, being from District Four. It wasn’t something he could remember learning; it was more like breathing, something ingrained in his memory, his muscles, his bones.

"I'm assuming you got quite a few chances coming from District Four."

The mention of home stung, but what stung even more was that she knew more about him than he did about her. He felt like he’d let his guard down, that he wasn’t doing his job as a Career.

Hero nodded, grinning blissfully at the thought of home. “Yeah, every day.” He paused, thinking for a second. “I could help you, if you wanted me to.”

Though he wasn’t generally inclined to help people, he knew he had to start getting to know the others unless he wanted to be slaughtered along with the rest. Plus, he reasoned, what else was he going to do with his time?

Helping out one’s competitors probably wasn’t the best strategy, but Hero wasn’t raised like most Careers were. He’d never learned to be brutal in the same way. Harsh, sarcastic, pessimistic – maybe. But he never learned how to be cruel.

Then again, he’d never learned how to be friendly, either. Every kind act he ever did was a shot in the dark.

(Let’s just say he was a little rusty.)

“Might as well get all the help I can,” she said, kicking the water. “I’m pretty much useless now, so it won’t hurt.”

Hero tried to smile in a way that looked friendly, but he probably ended up looking like a damn fool. He didn’t know how much he could help her in the short time he had, but if nothing else he could make sure she wasn’t afraid of the water. Who knows? The Arena might not have any water at all.

The thought depressed him.

“Okay,” he began, sitting back down at the edge and dipping his feet into the pool. “Before you do anything else, you’re going to have to learn to float. You can’t be afraid of the water – it’s not going to hurt you. People float just fine.”

It was about then that he realized it would be easier to show her, so he slipped into the water, training uniform and all.

The chlorine was so much different from the smell of the ocean, he became overwhelmed by it, forgetting the thought of the waves and the saltiness of the open sea. Laying on his back and spreading his arms and legs out, he let the water keep him afloat.

“Like this.”