So super apologies for taking forever, and special thanks to my wonderful reviewers, ShadowRose15 and pseudo-persona! Super sorry, I might've rage quit after writing some really awesome couple thousand words and losing it all cuz my pc crashed...I was really pissed, heh. Oh and no internet connection either woohoo so I've been doing this on my phone, but now whee I'm at college! Thanks for dealing with my shit ^^ And I won't be a lazy ass with the next chapter, promise. This time I really will make a good long one for you.

Two months later...

I wanna make you bleed just like me...

"Scar Chain, you said?"

Karako smiled, turning her head sideways to reply before continuing down the hall. "Yep. I think it's about time you joined up, you've been managing yourself really well for awhile now."

Shina frowned, furrowing her brow. The matches after Minatsuki's all blended into one for her...She didn't give her opponent time to prepare, just charged them while they were still hurling insults. While Shina was never purposely lethal, how could she not be? Avoiding killing would get herself killed, or worse, back on the penalty game. Instinct overtook her, and instinct usually involved stabbing exposed vitals, or slashing someone's head open. Fencing wasn't always a sport or just for show; duels were real again, albeit in a twisted manner. How many people had she now butchered in-ha, the irony of the phrase-cold blood?

Eight. It was eight by now... Shina had begun to catalog the Carnival Corpse matches and had worked out a reliable schedule. Deadmen were chosen to fight in a relatively stable pattern, and as long as nobody new turned up to throw it off, well, it was highly accurate.

Which meant it was her and Senji tomorrow. Shoving the thought from her mind, she chased after Karako. "Why's it called Scar Chain?"

Sparrow vs. Crow

Shina looked at the man she'd been avoiding for two days, biting the inside of her cheek. "Hey, Crow."

"Little Sparrow." His thumb rings slit open his flesh, twin sickles emerging from his forearms. Grinning a bit, he added, "You better put up a fight now, or have I been training with you for nothing?"

She remained silent, running her sharpened nails along the tender flesh of her left 'hand,' watching the blood drip out before sharpening to a razor's edge. Reacting just in time to block a horizontal slice, she gritted her teeth, dropping to the floor and rolling away from the second blade. She'd never duel-wielded before, but it looked like it would be a necessity. One of the few purchases Shina had made-after several new shirts for Minatsuki, which had been received with an "about time, slut"-she'd gotten a foot of razor wire. It was one of the few things available that had a cutting edge, and she'd tied a piece of tie-dyed cloth around her upper left arm before fashioning the barbed wire into a bracelet of sorts. She raked her right palm and fingers across it now, wincing slightly at the new feeling of barbs digging into flesh. "Come on," she muttered to herself, watching the blood trickle down her wrist, unresponsive.

There was no time to curse her bad luck as Senji lunged at her again, pain now nipping at her shoulder after a narrow retreat. Fuck.

Slash, block. Parry retreat lunge, trip and land on injured shoulder, nearly get impaled. Huh, funny, that last one didn't seem right now did it. She hissed in pain, struggling to her feet only to fall backwards as Senji nearly sliced her head open. Her only focus was now on the blur of movement as she rolled and dodged the best she could, thrusting wildly with little damage to Senji to show for it. A flash of red was at the corner of her eye, preparing to strike her in the throat with a final blow. Unaware of her body's actions, Shina reacted on pure instinct, blinking open her eyes when all movement ceased and foreign blood trickled down her hand.

There were five sharp, curved blades of blood sunk deep into Senji's upper arm, extending downwards and connecting to the tips of her fingers like claws. "Fuck," she croaked, looking from his arm, her hand, his face and back again. She watched, detached as Senji began to chuckle, pulling his arm from her grip before slamming her head into the floor. "Very nice, little Sparrow. Very nice."

She came to almost immediately after, bound to a stretcher and being pulled from the arena. And hauled straight to the hellish room where her hand had been mutilated. Shina felt panic well up inside her, began hyperventilating as the scent of old blood faintly covered with disinfectant registered with her senses. She knew she was dizzy with fear, but it all seemed so far away, like she was watching someone else from afar. She was strapped down to the chair as the machine spun, round and round until the slots stopped on toenails. Certainly not as important as a hand, but it would make walking difficult. Her shoes were untied, socks carefully removed as Rei leaned down with pliers in hand, giving short pants as she smiled and sweat shined on her face. Now there stands a real sadist, Shina thought, blinking slowly as the slim metal jaws encased her nail.

Then the pain dragged her back into her body, screaming her throat raw. One by one each nail was pried free from her flesh. Here one was ripped away without preamble. Another was teased, gradually peeling back the protective layer to reveal the bloody skin beneath, air foreign and stinging on the exposed surface. No matter how she bucked and struggled against the restraining straps, the process continued, ten times, until every toe was left bare. When Shina was finally unbound, she wished she could faint again and make it all go away, but no such luxury came. Eventually she was left to crawl back to her room, unable to stand without collapsing in pain.

Lying there, she finally allowed the emotions she'd been keeping at bay to overwhelm her. The confusion of why it had to happen to her, the anger at that Tamaki bastard, the frustration of her inability to escape the situation. She mourned her hand, how she still went to use it, still felt it when she was groggy in the mornings, only for the loss to hit her again. The despair of watching her best friend, more than a brother, murdered in front of her, and she who was blamed. She cried over her hopelessness until no more tears would come.

"Do you have any fucking idea how fucking loud you are? For fuck's sake, Sparrow, get out of the hallway." Minatsuki yanked up her hand, glaring at the embarrassed and half-asleep Senji until he slung Shina's arm over his shoulder, dragging her through the halls. "We're going to that Scar Chain bullshit because Game Fowl said something about dumping your ass in a wheelchair, and I sure as hell don't wanna have you sprawled on the ground. You'll make me trip."

Ha, Shina thought, didn't know you cared. Senji growled out something in reluctant agreement, continuing to glance at Shina's remaining hand and the bandages wrapping his arm. "How the fuck did that happen? Damn, Sparrow, you got some claws!" She snorted, letting her eyes fall shut. "Fuck if I know," she murmured, losing herself to unconsciousness.

She woke up to a bar stool cutting into her back. Groaning a little as she sat upright and resting her forehead on the counter, Shina slowly registered Karako's presence, that and somebody else's.

"It's good to see you awake, Sparrow. My name is Nagi, and I'm the leader of Scar Chain."

"Pleasure," she muttered through gritted teeth. Blah blah blah crap about exposing corruption and bringing justice, why should she be giving a shit? Shina furrowed her brow, trying to remember what Karako told her about this guy, because really, what was his deal? Something like he lost his wife, his child, and his voice to this hellhole...

His voice. She shot to her feet, immediately regretting it as her knees hit the hardwood floor. "Your vocal cords were taken out," she said breathlessly, staring up at Nagi in slight shock. "How are you talking? Why?"

He and Karako shared a glance before he replied. "I have an artificial voicebox. Anyway, as I mentioned-"

"Give me my hand back," Shina pleaded, staring him straight in the eyes. He got his voice why couldn't she have her hand. "Please. I'll do whatever you ask, just give me my hand back, anything," she added desperately, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her forehead till it almost touched the floor. They had to be able to, they had to!

"W-well, I'll see what we can do, but that's a tall order. It'll take months at the earliest."

"I don't care! Just tell me what you need and I'll do it, as long as you can make me whole again!"

"What we need," he said, mild exasperation in his voice, "are strong members. What we need is a plan, a way out of here, a way to remove these collars and return to as normal a life as possible! Don't offer what you can't give."

"Owl, really, leave the girl alone," Karako cut in, clutching his shoulder.

Shina raised her head, a swirling multitude of thoughts overtaking her. "I can't remove these collars but I can find a way to permanently counteract the poison. I was going into college for toxicology." It was a quite specific field, but she'd taken those studies in biology and chemistry very seriously. "I learned a lot independently. If you can get me access to a lab of some sort, a connection to America's FDA database, candy, a dead man-a literal one-I can figure it out. I promise." It was a flimsy promise and a flimsy proposal, but it was all Shina could think of. In all honesty, she eventually would have tried to begin research on her own.

Nagi furrowed his brow, scratching at the back of his head. "Hm. I don't know...that might be too difficult to arrange."

Karako helped Shina back onto the bar stool, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Give Sparrow a chance to prove herself, would you? If she knows as much as she says this is our best chance to counteract the collars."

He sighed in defeat. "I'll see what can be done. Don't expect much, though."