She was on fire.

Maka shivered as the flames roared through her veins. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but she didn't like it never the less, didn't like how good the burning felt. It was electric, it was power as the heat materialized, left her body and moved into the air. It was magic.

And then it was cold. The nobles circled around her all clapped. Even from this distance she could see the lust in their eyes as the last of the flames dissipated. Men and women of all shapes and ages had come just to see her, she should be honoured. She felt sick.

No one mentioned the man she had killed. Of course they didn't, but she wondered if they thought about him the way she did, if those blue eyes had been burned into their skulls just before they had burned away. Of course they didn't. They were nobles, a class above, far too used to violence to concern themselves with one dramatic death. Or at least with the person who'd died. They were far too interested in her.

They were chattering again. Buzzing like bees amongst themselves as they threw unabashed looks her way. She knew at least someone would make a bid. An elemental wielder hadn't been born in some time, and one of her talent and power hadn't been seen since… she didn't really know, it wasn't the sort of thing street urchins typically learn.

Maka clenched her fists, feeling the heat build-up in her once more. Perhaps the thing that had put her into the games would win her freedom… or rather servitude. Did she want that? Was it better to risk dying and try to win her own stupid freedom, or simply do the bidding of one of these monkeys. The eyes flashed through her head again. She could feel the panic coming on, but forced it back. 'Time and place Maka.'

Looking around, seeing the hungry stares following her movements, she figured killing was inevitable either way. In which case she might as well win her freedom. She certainly had the strongest talent in the games, what was there to lose?

What a stupid question. But this day had been filled with stupidity, from those who thought they could win her over with money, to those who thought that love would sway her towards them, to her own idiocy for letting any of them anywhere near her. She clenched her fists again. Maybe she should give them a prolonged performance.

A guard stepped up behind her and clamped a collar round her neck. The cool metal clicked together easily, tailor made for her small frame. "Wouldn't want you doing anything that could get you in trouble or me fired, hothead." The nobles looked up surprised, a few of them swallowing nervously as they looked at her hands slowly unclenching. That made her smile.

"Thanks BlackStar, wouldn't want to get you fired." The collar was already leeching the heat out of her system, calming her down. Really, for BlackStar to be the voice of reason you know a situation's gotten a bit out of control. But reality and rationality didn't take bitterness out of her voice or make the collar sit any more comfortably.

The blue haired guard grabbed her by the arm, making them an odd site as they walked between the nobles. Their height was the same, an observation you do not want to make in his presence, though BlackStar was farm more muscled than she was. He had helped her train a bit before her first match, helping to give her what little weight she did have, but it wasn't much and most of the definition on her body came from lack of food. She didn't even have boobs, a feature she lacked, she's always contest, because of malnutrition and not genetics.

BlackStar had been guarding the Barracks for the games for over a couple of years now, and had seen too many people come and go despite having witnessed only one tournament. She had been surprised when he'd come up to her on her first day after witnessing her nearly impale herself in the practice room. He'd steered her away from the swords, feeling her arms and deciding that being slow moving target, even armed would not help my chances. He'd probably saved her life. Not that she'd ever admit it. She wondered how he could stand all this bloodshed. Wondered how he could befriend someone he knew would probably die

She'd asked him too, on the night of her first Game. He simply smiled that stupid grin of hers and said, "I'm God, there's no way anyone I train will lose." She'd hit him with a book after that. And then promptly cried as soon as he left. It was harder to face death when suddenly you had something to hold on to.

Suddenly BlackStar stopped just as they rounded the corner, swinging around to face her before they entered the barracks. His blue eyes were oddly serious as he gripped her painfully around her shoulders. "I'm glad you won." And then he simply walked through the door.

It's enough to make a girl cry. Not that she would.

Maka followed him in after a beat. For a second she had been able to replace those man's eyes with a different pair. Not that it lasted long.