Shijin had led Shikome to the medical tent to seek help for her arm. Shikome refused the medics he brought to her, demanding to see Kiki, but the latter was busy. She was really asleep, but Shijin didn't want to tell Shikome that. In her rage which still boiled over from before her match against the Quincy girl, Shikome ripped the arrows free of her arm. What did it matter to her? It was just a gigai. Still, it hurt and bled its fake blood, so Shijin ripped the sheets off the cot and wrapped her arm as best he could; healing would have to wait until Kiki had recovered. For now, he managed to get Shikome to lay down and eventually she drifted off to sleep, exhausted not physically, but mentally.

Dreams plagued her sleep, not letting her rest fully. When she finally awoke the next morning, Shikome had strange thoughts in her head. "Help me, Christmas Spirit," she muttered in confusion, earning her an odd look from Shijin in his female gigai. He had stood watch over her all night as the silent sentinel that he was.

In her sleepy haze, Shikome failed to notice the section of a staff nestled against her side opposite Shijin on the bed, just out of his line of sight; her vision became clouded as her bed suddenly fell away beneath her, depositing her in a rather fluffy snowbank with the staff section lying just atop her hand. To look about, Shikome would see the only 'thing' of description in this landscape was a counter, behind which stood our ever-busy black-haired Helper.

The young man smiled as she looked his way, and gave her a gentle wave. "Good morning, Shikome-sama, and welcome to the winter wonderland! I am the Holiday Helper, here to tell you about that marvelous item you'll find resting on your hand!" The young man chirped happily as Shikome rose from the snow, at which point she would find she had been sent here free of her Gigai. Odd...

Shikome looked at her hand. There was indeed something there. A stick. And around her, there was snow. And she didn't have an itty bitty teeny weeny anymore. In fact, she was simply Shikome. Out in the snow. With a stick. Clearly she had fallen back asleep. She hefted the stick to test its weight and found it to be nothing special. It was black though. Ebony perhaps? "What is it," she finally asked, her curiosity rising even in the dream state.

"That is one third of the Staff of the Fire King's staff! In order to complete the staff, you'll have to find the other four! Unfortunately, I don't have any to sell you, and I can't tell you who has the other parts, where they are, or which they are; it's in the rules!" Of course, this despite the fact he'd mentioned the staff was in thirds. Oops!

"If you would like, I can hold on to your staff piece free of charge until you decide you don't want me to! If you choose so much, I won't tell anybody I have it, or let them know what it is or who it belongs to! Finally, if you'd rather not participate in this game, I can buy the staff piece from you for the meager price of fifty thousand yen!"

"Uhhh-huuuuh," Shikome said sarcastically. Fifty thousand yen for a stick. A burnt stick, apparently. "I think I'll just take the money," she added flippantly, tossing the stick, excuse me, staff (>_>) at the helper.

The boy blinked before the stick made connection, thumping him directly on the forehead and leaving a circular mark, which caused the boy to cry out in pain as the Staff segment began glowing; a moment later, it vanished into the counter, to occupy a space that was empty a few moments ago.

Sniffling softly, the boy held his right hand forward, and a purse of jingling coins appeared in the hand; he was apprehensive now, clearly, but a transaction was a transaction, and the Helper would do his job come rain or snow... or pitch darkness, which began slowly to creep in on the snow from a point far in the distance, growing rapidly to engulf the snow surrounding the Helper and his desk, and then Shikome.

"H-here's your m-m-money, Shi-Shikome-sama." The boy choked out, his expression falling from cheery to upset; when Shikome took the money from his grip, she would suddenly find the darkness replaced by the light of the medical tent, where Shijin was still in the process of giving her an odd look. Nestled against her left side was a purse; within said purse was fifty thousand yen.

[4 stat points, fifty thousand yen gained, post placement with exit]

SPOILER: Click to show

I would like to let everyone know that the writer does not condone the beating of Hanatarou in any way. Thank you for your time; that is all.

"Son of a bitch," Shikome exclaimed as the real world came into focus. No longer did she have a staff, but money. Money was nice, but Shikome was a pack rat. A hoarder. She liked things. "Help me, Christmas Spirit," she screeched. Nothing happened other than Shijin arching a brow. Shikome cursed again then said, "Go find Kiki." Her arm still needed healed.

[exit; four to force]