I jump as the branches ahead rustle, but Violet strides out quite casually. She comes to a stop at the edge of the small clearing, gripping the inside edge of her jacket with one hand as the other rests on her hip. Since it's supposedly so warm out today, I'm guessing she's wearing the jacket for the sake of the huge diamond pinned on it. Her district token. The same one her brother had.

To think that I brought the same badge as Mia... But I'm not wearing it now. It's still pinned to the supply bag, which is far behind me.

Anyway. This has nothing to do with that murder. I have to do everything right, now...

"So it seems I've ferreted you out at last—What was your nom de plume? Mr. Wrong?" She smiles.

"Wright." I stand my ground, some sweat trickling into my ear.

"You're in rather terribominable condition, if I do vocalize so myself, Mr. Wrong." She shrugs, still looking quite pleased with herself.

And she doesn't have many reasons not to be. Her head is a mess of purple curls by now, but she's standing comfortably, only a few small slashes on her clothes betraying injury. If she has anything serious, it must be under her long sleeves—but I suppose she could have been wearing her jacket the whole time, and her hands certainly have no trouble gripping.

Although... I've only seen her from this angle. She could still be injured somewhere I can't see. But I won't be checking just yet.

"I can still handle a fight." I hold up the baton, although my arm's quivering. "Especially against someone as slim as you."

In all honestly, she doesn't look weak at all. She does have a small frame, but you can tell at a glance that she has pretty good upper-body strength. But if I can get her to brag... If she tells me about tributes she killed, with that same smug smile on her face... Maybe I can have some evidence that what I'm trying to do is at least a little bit just.

"Oh hoh hoh." She shrugs, lifting her palms. "You'd do well not to underestimate me. I assure you that I'm quite able to pugnaciate, even this far into the Games."

I swallow. "You don't look like you've been in too many fights. I haven't heard any jabberjays talking about you, either. Where have you been this whole time?"

"Oh, I've been in this arena just as prolongedly as you, Mr. Wrong. I've merely kept myself in better shape. It's not such a diffarduous task when the extraneous tributes are so weak compared to moi."

"What 'extraneous' tributes?" I try not to lean forward too much.

She tucks her fingers back beneath the edge of her jacket. "I can't be expected to recogniate each and every nombre. I will, however, assure you that none who have fought me have escaped with their vitalities."

"I don't suppose they all attacked you first."

Smiling, she shakes her head. "Negatory. Blanco Niña does not bide her time until another happens to locaticounter her."

"So you hunted them down yourself. Just for the sake of the competition?"

"But of course. What reasifications could I have otherwise? I'm not a cold-blooded killer; I only do what I must to bring honorifics to my family name." She flashes her teeth along with the diamond. "Although our prestigiosity is already altitudinous."

"Well, then." So... it's fair to assume she has killed innocent, or at least nonviolent, people. Not even for survival's sake, but for fame. "Are you ready to try and add me to your list of victims?"

"If you're prepared to acceptify your fate." Letting go of her jacket, she reaches into her pocket and slips on a pair of brass knuckles. Not gold and diamond-studded, at least, although whatever grey metal that is could certainly still do damage. "And leave that silly girl to hers, once I'm through."

We stand where we are for a minute, my pulse pounding in my temples.

"What?" Holding up the baton, I take one measured step forward. "Waiting for me to attack first? I thought that wasn't your style."

Chin up, she watches me. "Oh, no, Mr. Wrong. I still intendicate to attack first. I would just like you to close the gap beforehand."

"I-I'm not moving any closer. Come and get me yourself."

She chortles. "I can distinguify when I'm being led into a trap. I wouldn't have survived so long in this arena otherwise, comprende?"

I grit my teeth, shooting a glance at the ground in front of me. The sun's hitting one little, exposed length of the braided wire just right, making it shine. "There's no trap. I... just want to save all of my strength for the battle itself."

"Do you truly have so little altercatibility?" She shrugs, shaking her head in amusement.

I glance at my injured arm, which still hangs by my side.

"Oh hoh hoh. That's your dominant hand, isn't it, Mr. Wrong? How injurified it looks! Is that why you're so hesiluctant to fight me?" She smiles, scrunching her eyes shut for a moment. "I hate to vanquifeat such a weakened opposer, but I suppose I'll do what I must!"

With that, she charges, not straight towards me, but around the obvious trap, towards my right side. She comes too fast for me to turn, her armed fist pulled back—

And then her left foot disappears. I doubt she notices that, but it's a little hard for her to be oblivious to the slick spot she's hit as her planted foot flies back, sending her careening forward and out of my sight.

Careful not to lose my balance, I lean back past the illusion barrier just in time to see her whack her head on the rocks of the hidden stream bank.

She cries out, clawing at the stone lip as she falls into the water. Blood is pouring out over her hair, but she's still yowling like an upset cat and trying to get a grip on the bank. She manages to get to her feet midstream, although she won't be able to stand for long with the water tugging at everything from her waist down.

Breath seething through her teeth, she tries to steady herself by putting her left hand on the bank. She looks up at me beneath the blood dripping from her bangs, her eyes wide in pain, hate, or both. She tilts forward, and I know her feet are slipping from beneath her.

She hurls her knuckle dusters straight at my forehead before she falls with a splash.

My vision flashes white when it hits, and I'm on the ground before I can register falling.

"G-gah...!" On my knees and hunched, I put a hand to my forehead and cringe. "Urk..." I... don't think it can be that bad, but... Ow...

"Nick!" A thump somewhere behind me—probably Maya... jumping over the stream.

I... don't think there's any blood... I just...

"Wriiiiiiight!"

I manage to look up as a waterlogged and snarling Violet gets both feet onto the shore. She charges, hands spread open.

...! Where did the knuckles go!?

I look around—Maya's sprinting, too, but from farther away—until I finally catch the glint of the brass knuckles, just over an arm's length in front of me. Leaning forward, I try to nudge them towards me with the baton, but the knuckle-dusters only get tangled in the grass. I drop the baton and lunge.

Violet grabs her weapon first.

My fingers only brush the edge of the cold metal before she jams it into place on her right hand. I don't even get to straighten up before she makes a fist and rams it into the side of my head.

Crunch.

Pain explodes through my skull as I go to the ground, her fist still crushing down on me. I can barely tell when she draws her hand back.

"I will not lose to you!" She's going to hit me again... Don't... Don't... It's... bad... e-enough...!

But a shriek stabs my ears before another punch is thrown, and the shadow looming over me disappears with a shout and a splash.

"Nick!" A hand shakes my shoulder. "N-Nick!"

Maya...?

I try to open my eyes, but it's way too bright. I get a glimpse of Maya's dark hair, though.

I-I... My head... I... It hurts... to even... breathe...

Something else in my skull bursts with pain, and that screaming—me...?—only makes it worse.

"It's okay! I-it's just me. I-I'm p-patching you up, okay?"

Is... it cloth... that she's... putting... on it? I... It hurts...

"S-stop." I reach blindly for her wrist but don't find it.

"W-what are you...!? J-just... Just take deep breaths, all right? Y-you'll be okay. I-I'll f-fix it..."

"Stop." I choke on an exhale. "It... I can't... It hurts... so much... Please, let... let me go... more quickly..."

A pause, in which I barely manage not to start screaming again.

"What... Nick... N-no! You'll be... You're not going to... Y-you... You won't... N-Nick... Don't... Please, don't..."

Don't... die...? I don't... think... I... can stop it...

I...Is this... how Chief felt...? This... pain... is...

I'm not... I know... I'm not going... to make it...

"Maya..." I try to open my eyes again, but I can't turn towards her. " 'Sokay... I... sort of... wanted this... after all. You'll... be fine... Please..." My voice is fading... or is it... just my hearing...? "Don't... be so hard... on yourself. You're worth... everything... any of us... have done for you..."

Her hand finds mine, and I squeeze it as hard as I can. She's... still crying, but she's... not arguing... There's at least that much...

I can feel the sticky blood snaking down my forehead, even when I can't see the ground in front of me anymore. My skull must be breaking into smaller and smaller pieces, the way it feels, and...

I guess this is it. As hard as I tried... I guess it couldn't have turned out any other way.

Maya... I'm sorry that this had to happen. But this... this is the end.

I... wish it wasn't... I wish... we could stay friends... for longer... But I guess it couldn't happen. Not here...

If... we had met somewhere else, without the Games... I bet we'd still make friends quickly. I'd still think you were crazy... and you'd still call me an old man...

I bet Edgeworth would still be grumpy... Gumshoe would probably exasperate us all... Mia would still have to be someone we looked up to... And Maggey... Will... Penny... The others... Maybe we could all live as friends...

We'd better not take it for granted... We'd better be grateful... to have each other. To get to keep each other...

But... it can't be like that here... Here... there's... only...

...