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a few days later
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Rina moved through her apartment with calculated efficiency, the soft sounds of clothes rustling and zippers clicking breaking the quiet stillness of the space.
Her minimalist living quarters were sparsely decorated, each item meticulously placed and devoid of unnecessary clutter—a reflection of her precise, no-nonsense approach to life.
She folded a black blouse with quick, precise movements, placing it neatly into her open suitcase. A stack of dark, tailored pants followed, and then a few understated dresses, all in muted tones.
As she methodically packed her belongings, her mind wandered to the task that loomed ahead. Living at Jujutsu High, working as a teacher—it was a role that once seemed unimaginable. But it wasn't the teaching that unsettled her, it was the assignment to monitor Satoru of all people.
The thought of him twisted her expression into a grimace, her disgust clear as she paused, gripping the handle of her suitcase a little too tightly.
She didn't need to be reminded of their history; the tension between them was like a festering wound, painful and ever-present. The reasons behind their animosity were buried deep, a story that only she knew, one that she kept locked away like a secret she couldn't afford to reveal—not yet.
Rina exhaled sharply, tossing another shirt into the suitcase with a hint of frustration. The idea of having to shadow Satoru, to be near him and monitor his every move, felt like an insult. How could the higher-ups, in all their infinite wisdom, see her as the right person for this job? Her fingers brushed over a framed photograph on her bedside table. It was face-down, as it always had been. Rina turned it upright for a moment, her eyes lingering on the image of three girls—herself, Shoko, and Utahime—smiling brightly in a time that felt like it belonged to someone else's life. She placed it face-down again, shaking her head as if to dispel the sentimentality.
The sound of her phone buzzing on the bed pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen: Nanami. Again. She sighed, setting down the pair of boots she was about to pack and picked up the call.
