Kurama paced the room, having reverted back only moments ago, the terrified doctor having fled the room, gone to call and search the internet for traces of an available antidote. Running his fingers through his rose-red hair, Kurama searched himself; why? Why, when such a thing hadnt happened since the Dark Tournament, did the demon fox exert his souls control over the human body? Why did the ruthless demon care so much for a life he didnt know to threaten another? Feeling eyes upon him, Kurama turned to Hiei. His vertically-challenged friend had been watching him since the outburst.
Why the outburst, Fox?, the short demon asked him. Its not often you work yourself up over anything, more or less a human like Sera. Hiei had a point. It was extremely unlike Kurama to make such a scene, especially with such ferocity.
"I admire her," he said finally. "Shes putting herself through so much pain for us, who barely even know anything about her." All heads turned from Kurama to their pacifier-wielding ruler as he added to the gratuity.
"Yes, quite well put Kurama. She didnt by any means have to do what we asked of her, and it was in no way forced of her. I think it would be appropriate to say that wed all feel horrible if we lost Sera after she pushed herself so far." Everyone nodded in agreement, save for Hiei. He held no reserve for the girl, but nor did he disagree with what Koenma said.
Glancing at Sera, he masked his surprise with stoicism as a wave of empathy for the dying girl washed over him. He knew that shed gone through hell, just as he had; her mother abused her and sold her body, as his mother abandoned him as a babe; undergoing a jagan transplant, she was dying, just as he had almost done in the same situation.
Without realizing even what he was about to do, he used a gently hand to brush damp hair away from Seras face. Recoiling his hand in quiet shock, he looked to the monitors; her face already felt as if it were on fire, even to the fire-demons touch. His blood ran cold for a moment, the hear in his chest skipping a beat. The monitor reflected an unnaturally high temperature, and unwilling to believe what his own hand had felt, he turned around, upturning a drawer to find a thermometer. The commotion gathered the others, each of them watching as the mercury skyrocketed before their eyes, searing past the 100 mark in a matter of seconds, finally coming to rest at a scalding 105.4. Six tenths of a degree more would be all it took for them to lose her forever.