The girl struggled to breathe with her neck in his grip, and her hand clenched involuntarily, trapping the Demon Jewel and leaving it no chance to escape. At first, the figure thought nothing of it. Then a clear light flashed from her body. He gave a soft cry of pain and swiftly withdrew his hand, but a burn had already appeared on it. He frowned. After a long moment, he murmured, "A miko?" and vanished back into the jewel. The girl slowly began to wake.
She rubbed her neck. The pain was slight but impossible to ignore, as though someone really had strangled her rather than it being an illusion in a dream. She looked around. Apart from snakes, insects, venomous scorpions, and streams of molten red lava, there was not a soul in sight. So she dismissed it as a dream.
But at the thought of her friend dissolving before her eyes, her fingers tightened around the scorched, tattered hem of her clothes, gripping harder and harder. She knew the real Momiji was sealed somewhere, and the one who had appeared before her was only a puppet or an incarnation. Yet the fact remained that Momiji had vanished right before her eyes. "Momiji..."
The girl murmured his name. The skin over the back of her hand drew taut, mirroring the unbearable weight in her heart. A drop fell softly onto her hand-a clear tear. She tried desperately to restrain herself, but sobs still caught uncontrollably in her throat. Her head hung low, hiding her expression, yet anyone standing before her would have felt the sorrow washing over them.
In the vast expanse of Crimson Hell, she was utterly alone.
Her tears seeped between her fingers and into the Demon Jewel in her fist. Its blackish-purple light gradually dimmed, giving