She was on the way to check up on Juri — she had only been referee for a short time, and Koto wanted to make sure she was doing all right and spend a little time with her before they'd have to get to work again. It was nice to just relax and chat and reassure Juri that she was doing well. The two girls felt effectively alone when it came to companionship, especially lately with all these even tougher fighters running around that the two were slightly intimidated to run into. Aside from that, Koto was still sore about being moved to the stands after being accused of messing up her count, and she could do to forget about all that for a while.

Koto had learned to be somewhat discreet when getting around, either by going around at hours when not many were about or by traveling in a group with others heading from the lounge to their rooms. Tonight, though, everyone seemed to want to stay in later than usual, and Koto couldn't keep Juri waiting much longer. But she hadn't run into any trouble so far… she'd probably be fine going by herself.

She held a bottle of liquor in one hand as she walked through the halls; Juri hadn't wanted to come to the lounge because of the other girls there, so Koto would bring a piece of the lounge to her. Koto wasn't afraid of the glares and comments she got from the jealous waitresses for her favoring Juri and helping her with the promotion. The bitchiness of other girls was something she could handle, and she didn't let it get to her. She chose Juri for a reason, and that was all that mattered. Juri would be okay with it all soon, Koto was sure — she just needed time to adjust.

A good screwdriver sounded nice. Would Juri have orange juice in her room? She had forgotten to look last time, since they had just sat around drinking hard lemonade anyway—

Someone was moving in the hall up ahead of her, and Koto paused, waiting to make out the figure. It was the fluffy red hair that gave him away, and something caught in Koto's throat. She had just counted him out the other day in the fight against Yusuke, and she had more than once run into a sore loser who felt like blaming the referee for their own loss. Maybe he'd be even more angry after the committee said she had messed up the count on his fight.

There was a split second when she saw the recognition flash on his face, and then she ducked around the corner of another hallway, her heart flying in her chest. She hardly realized she was running until she smacked into something, the bottle of vodka flying out of her hand and landing with a terrible crash somewhere ahead of her.

She blinked the panic away, realizing now that what she had run into wasn't a something, it was a someone — someone much, much bigger than she was, in fact.

Out of the frying pan and into the oven. You have the worst luck lately.

The tall demon snatched her by the shirt, lifting her into the air until they were face level — close enough that she could smell the rotting meat on his breath. She clung to his arm, her feet swaying, searching for solid ground—

"Why do they put a scrawny bitch in charge of matches when she can't even watch where she's going?"

"That's a very good question," she forced out, squirming. "Maybe that would be better answered by the, uh, tournament committee?"

He frowned, and she could make out the fangs peeking out of the lower corners of his mouth. "A wise-ass, too?" He shook her, then stopped suddenly, leaving her to gasp for air in the silence.

"What are you lookin' at?"

She was just about to stutter out, "Nothing! I don't know what you're talking about!" But when she looked at the demon that had hold of her, she realized he wasn't staring at her, but something beyond her.

"Ya must think yer pretty tough pickin' on a lass, much less one that ain't even a fighter."

The voice was practically unmistakable, but she couldn't turn her head far enough to see — instead, she saw the annoyance deepening on her assaulter's face. "I don't see how it's your business."

"I can make it my business real quick once I put my fist in yer face. Put her down, I'm tellin' you."

Koto's feet found the ground suddenly, and she stumbled into the wall and braced herself against it. The taller demon stalked off with a grumble, leaving her to mull over the broken remains of her bottle of vodka, the sore spots in her armpits where her shirt had bruised her from being held in the air, and her present savior.

Jin.

It was ironic, she thought, how she had run from him, thinking he was the dangerous one, and then he ended up being the one that saved her. That probably left something to be desired when it came to her judge of character, after all.

"Ya alright?"

She nodded, pushing herself off the wall. "I don't think my booze is gonna make it, though," she joked, laughing at a little. "Thanks, though. Sorry I, uh, ran from you a minute ago."

"Whadja do that fer, anyway? 'M not that scary, am I?" He grinned, the picture of innocence.

"I might agree if I hadn't seen you fight." He looked a little startled, and she blushed immediately. "Oh, I didn't mean that to sound rude. It's just… I can never tell if someone's holding a grudge against me for losing a fight."

"What? No, not me. I lost fair and square against Urameshi, I did. Ain't got no reason to blame you fer doin' yer job." He shrugged. "It's a feller like that guy tryin' ta rough you up that needs somethin' ta beat up on when all he got's bein' a loser, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah, probably." She glanced down the hall and back to the broken glass. With no liquor, she'd have to run back to the lounge and get more, and then risk running through the halls alone again. She wasn't ready to have her life threatened twice in one night, but she did still want some company.

He looked away, too, like he was unsure how to end their conversation, but she said, "Hey — do you have someplace to be?"

He chuckled. "'Course not, not at this hour. I jus' got a little lost in all these dang hallways lookin' fer the door outside."

"I can show you the way," she offered.

Maybe she didn't have such terrible luck lately, after all.