Right as Nao, afraid for her life, tumbled backwards out of the arena, a cool mist clouded over the area. Scarlett's wild eyes searched, but she couldn't make out the other figures around her anymore. The world inside her mind was similarly shrouded in mist.
Cool hands with long, slender fingers reached out and grabbed her from behind. She balked, at first, but a strand of silver hair wafted into her field of vision. Turning, she saw a face she hadn't expected to see.
This was different from her memory. Kwahn hadn't come to stop her before. She looked up at him, and her eyes grew wide. She had forgotten, if only for a moment, where she was and what she had been doing.
"Is that really you?" she asked, and reached up and gently cradled his face in her palm. The phantom was solid under her touch. He said nothing, only smiled, and placed his hand over hers. The scarlet glow of her eyes softened slightly. But something in her wavered, wasn't it odd, that he wasn't speaking? Was this some fae trick? She felt the heat of betrayal begin to rise in her again, but before she could formulate her thoughts, she heard two far-away voices call:
"Now!"
"Rei-gun!"
A precise blast hit her in the side just then, knocking her off balance. Another blast hit her right in the gut, forcing her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. Her hazy world had faded entirely to black once again. By the time the mist cleared, neither she nor the phantom were anywhere to be seen.
Stumbling a little, Nao got to her feet and clamored back onto the stage. She pressed her earpiece against her ear, "Hold on, folks, a lot of information here---" she paused, furrowing her brow in concentration, "Under normal circumstances, a death in the arena would mean the offending team would have to pay the price of the slave. But as this was the chairman's son, the only fit price is her life." She looked around bemusedly, "That is, if anyone finds her, I suppose. Also, with Team Kabuki having no remaining players, they are hereby disqualified."
Before Rieka could call that she was still there, Hiro grabbed her shoulder, "Don't," he hissed. "You can't beat all three of those guys on your own, and they all mean to kill you. They must have forgotten about you since you left the arena at the beginning--better to keep it that way."
"But then we'll never get to fight Izanagi." Rieka protested.
"We didn't know our dads were in it at the beginning. Now we do. Things are over if we stay here but we have a chance if we just walk away."
Rieka sucked on her teeth, but she knew Hiro was right. She was thankful some of the mist still remained so they could skulk off undetected.
* * *
Scarlett felt something cool pressing on her forehead before her eyes fluttered open. Kurama hovered over her, a damp cloth in his hand. She was chilled, and drenched in a cold sweat.
"What happened?" She said hoarsely. She hadn't realized before she had spoken how parched her throat was.
"Here, drink this," Kurama said, raising a glass to her lips.
Obediently, Scarlett chugged it down. It bore the bitter aftertaste of medicine, but it quenched her thirst somewhat. After draining the glass, her eyes focused on Kurama's once again, "Last thing I remember was Kaname hitting me with those poison kunai." Idly she realized that her arms still tingled from the aftereffects of the numbing agent.
"Yes," Kurama said delicately, "It was too many different drugs competing against each other for even your system to fend off. You're coming out of the worst of your fever now."
Scarlett sighed, "I passed out and lost, didn't I?"
Kurama said nothing as he rinsed and replaced the damp cloth on her forehead.
The silence filled Scarlett with an uncertain dread, "Kurama, what aren't you telling me?"
"You didn't simply pass out. Do you remember anything else?"
Scarlett blinked uncertainly as she tried to think, "A bad dream..."
"Not a dream," said Kurama, gently, "A hallucination. You were acting out a bad memory."
Scarlett sank further into her pillow, "I activated my territory, didn't I?"
Kurama looked at her pitifully, "Yes."
Scarlett looked at him uncertainly. The fever had made her grey eyes bright and flushed her cheeks a delightful shade of pink. To Kurama, the effect both enhanced her appeal to him and somehow made her look more childlike at the same time, "Did I...kill anyone?"
Kurama didn't say anything for a long time. To tell the truth was to hurt her, but hiding it wouldn't have been worth it either. Especially given their current circumstances.
"Answer me, youko," Scarlett demanded. Hearing her call him that made him wince a little. She was getting angry again.
"Only one," said Kurama, at length. He did not lose his composure, "We were able to stop you before you hurt anyone else."
Scarlett sank deeper into her pillow, "Who?"
And so Kurama told her about Kaname, and how there was a price on her head now—everything. Scarlett didn't meet his eyes as he ticked off the facts, but lay in quiet contemplation.
"...so I've hidden you in one of the rooms beneath the stadium." Kurama explained, "There are so many, and they are all supposed to be closely monitored, so they shouldn't think of looking here."
Kurama felt something warm brush across his cheek. He looked to Scarlett, who was shakily raising her hand up to caress him. Kurama's eyes grew wide—it was the first time she had ever touched him like this.
"Kurama," she said, "Thank you. You've tried to help me so much. I can tell you've really changed since back then...but I think it might be better if you simply leave me here."
He had not been expecting that, "You're too weak to fight and there's a price on your head. If someone were to discover you..."
"They would kill me," she said matter-of-faculty, "But that's okay, compared to the alternative."
"How can you say that?" snapped Kurama.
She paused, "How much did Hiro tell you he saw of my hallucination?"
"Every detail he could," said Kurama.
"Good—then I can simply tell you the ending. My rampage didn't end with Kwahn touching my shoulder and calming me down. A little boy got hold of his daddy's flintlock pistol and shot me—right here." She pulled down the top of her shirt, and revealed a mark right above her left breast, where her heart should be. Rather than a scar, a black mark like a paw print marked the spot instead—like a tattoo.
Her answer raised about a dozen more questions for Kurama, but there was one which had been nagging at him for a long time, "Who's Kwahn?"
She turned her gaze to the ceiling, a small smile playing on her lips, "He was my friend, my lover...and a god."