Two weeks later...
Cut myself and scream for their insanity...
G-block, that's what he called it. That Tamaki bastard. Her own goddamned lawyer was in charge of this hellhole. And there was still no explanation as to why she was here, hidden away in the max security of a max security prison. She wasn't even given the luxury of being called by name, no, she was suddenly Sparrow for no discernible reason. Now left to herself in a cell, Shina curled onto her side, trying to ignore the cold metal collar tight around her neck. Just three days, three more if she ate that candy they claimed was the antidote to the poison being leaked into her veins. Six days and Shina could simply let herself die, right? She wasn't about to make an effort to win any more cast points than she'd been given.
She remained like that for several hours, drifting in and out of consciousness, until the TV screen in her wall lit up, a sickeningly cheery voice drawing her attention.
"Hello there, Deadmen! We have an exciting announcement to make: tomorrow night will be a newcomer's first Carnival Corpse! Look forward to seeing Sparrow attempt to hold her own against Game Fowl!"
Shina bolted forward, spinning to face the screen as it displayed her face besides that of a young woman's before fading off. "Carnival Corpse?" she whispered weakly to herself, turning towards her door and taking tentative steps forward, cautiously slipping out into the hallway. Seeing no other inmates in sight, she kept her head down, walking through the corridor until reaching a door at the end of the hall, a label reading GYM plastered across it. Standing there, she debated whether it was worth it to take a look inside, make even the slightest effort to try and survive. Only the possibility of some fencing practice convinced her to step inside. Sure, chances were slim there would be a practice foil or anything even remotely pointy inside, but going longer than a week without her favorite sport was beginning to drive her a little stir crazy.
She walked in just as a dark-haired, muscle-bound man was making his way out. He paused, looking down at her with a small grin. Shina stumbled back against the door, tensing up under his predatory gaze.
"You must be the Sparrow chick, right? Damn, you must be one bitch of a girlfriend to slaughter your man like that. What could he have done to piss you off that much?"
Since that day, Shina had retreated into herself, living in a haze, making little to no effort in any aspect of life. But him grinning down at her, bringing up Wes like that...
"He wasn't my boyfriend and I didn't do anything to him!" she snapped in fear and rage. He raised an eyebrow, breaking into a full smile now.
"Whatever you say, little Sparrow. You're up against Karako tomorrow, right? Well, there's no reason we can't have a little warm-up right now, huh? I'm Senji. They call me Crow." As he told Shina his name, he crossed his arms, slicing his forearms open with spiked thumb rings, suddenly forming blades of his own blood.
Shina shrunk back, eyes wide, more afraid than ever. "H-how did you do that?"
Senji broke into laughter, staring at her in amusement and contempt. "It's my Branch of Sin. What the fuck else would you expect of a fellow Deadman?"
There it was. That word again. Deadman. "I don't know what you mean! What's a Deadman, what's a Branch of Sin? Why am I even here, trapped in a pit with madmen like you!?"
He didn't even react to her desperate shrieking. "Your blood. Something happens when you bleed, so what's it do? I'd hate to be a bad sport and butcher you before your first match, but you won't last long if you can't even control your Branch of Sin."
Shina shook her head, tears in her eyes now. There wasn't any such thing, it didn't make sense. She was hallucinating, any minute now, she'd wake up, maybe back into a nightmare but at least one that made more sense. A sharp slice across her left palm made her eyes snap back to his.
"You'll know what to do. It isn't that hard to figure out. And I'll keep cutting until you do."
No. NO. There wasn't any sense of this, she had no idea what to do. The only violence she knew was fencing, something that would clearly be useless to her now. Unless...
The door opened, the sudden absence of support making Shina tumble backwards into whoever tried to come in.
"Tch. Minatsuki. Way to spoil my fun." Senji shoved past Shina, blades disappearing as quickly as they'd come. The firm grip of Minatsuki shifted until the girls were looking face to face.
"Ugh. Why are you still in that prison suit? It's like you're a whore with something to hide."
Shina stared at her savior, glancing down at herself and reddening in embarrassment. The jumpsuit that labeled her as Inmate 5243 was all she'd been given to wear.
"Whatever. Chances are you'll be dead soon anyway. If you're still alive tomorrow-ha! doubtful-you can borrow something of mine, just as long as you don't bleed all over it. Only my opponents are allowed to do that."
The sneering Minatsuki released her hold, heading back towards her own room. Shina watched her, transfixed by her 'savior.'
"I-sorry-thanks, I think!"
"Whatever."