He opened the chat and completely froze.
The picture loaded. It wasn't a joke, and it wasn't her flipping off the camera like he had half-expected. It was just Maki. Raw, unguarded, wearing his clothes, with damp hair and a hair tie caught between her teeth. The casual, domestic intimacy of the shot felt like a direct hit to the chest.
A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he stared at the screen for a long moment. He noticed the voice note sitting right below the image and tapped the play button, bringing the phone speaker close to his ear.
"...don't you dare ever bother me to send you perverted photos like this again, you absolute creep..."
Maki's aggressive, wavering voice filled the quiet space of the room, completely contradicting the soft vibe of the photo.
Ren let out a low, rough chuckle, shaking his head against the stiff pillow.
Perverted? He looked back at the photo. She was literally just tying her hair up in a baggy t-shirt. If she genuinely thought that baring an inch of her stomach and a shoulder was a "perverted" image, her imagination must have run wild while she was staring at the bathroom mirror.
A highly amused, dangerous thought crossed his mind. If this was enough to make her flustered and defensive... what would she actually do if he asked for something genuinely explicit? She would probably short-circuit completely before trying to run him through with her spear.
He tapped the screen, saving the photo to his camera roll.
Ren sat up against the stiff headboard, tossing his phone lightly in his hand. The faint glow of the neon city lights filtered through the gap in the thin hotel curtains, painting the cramped room in shadows.
If Maki thought a sliver of stomach and a shoulder was scandalous, he was almost obligated to show her the real definition.
With a soft chuckle, he grabbed the hem of his dark undershirt, pulled it over his head, and tossed it onto the tiny desk chair next to his denim jacket. He leaned back against the cheap pillows, opening the camera app and flipping it to the front-facing lens.
The dim, shadowy lighting of the room actually worked perfectly. It cast sharp, contrasting lines across his shoulders and highlighted the defined ridges of his chest and abdomen. He shifted his weight, running his free hand through his hair to leave it effortlessly messy, and offered the camera a lazy, utterly unapologetic smirk.
Snap.
He looked at the preview on the screen. Yeah, that was definitely going to cause a catastrophic system failure back at the Jujutsu High dorms.
Still grinning, Ren attached the image to their chat thread. His thumbs moved swiftly over the keyboard as he typed out his reply to her furious voice note.
If you absolutely refuse to send me actual "perverted images," then obviously I'm going to have to pick up the slack. You're welcome, boss. Sweet dreams.
He hit Send.
The image flew across the screen, the little "Delivered" text popping up underneath it almost instantly.
Ren locked his phone and tossed it onto the nightstand, letting out a satisfied breath as he slid down under the thin hotel covers.
He closed his eyes, crossing his arms behind his head. He could already picture her violently throwing her phone across the bathroom tiles the second she opened the chat.
Surviving Kawasaki tomorrow was going to be a breeze compared to the absolute hell Maki was going to unleash on him the moment he stepped foot back on campus. And honestly? He couldn't wait.
...
The harsh buzzing of the hotel alarm clock cut through the cramped room at 6:00 AM.
Ren reached out from under the thin covers and slapped the snooze button. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the faint gray light filtering through the gap in the curtains.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. No new messages from Maki. She probably went to sleep right after sending that threat. He smiled, tossing the phone back down.
He sat up, resting his bare feet on the cold carpet. The hotel was completely silent. Nanami was probably already awake, dressing in his tailored suit, and Yuji was likely still passed out down the hall. More importantly, Satoru Gojo was hundreds of miles away in Kyoto.
For the first time in forty-eight hours, nobody was watching him.
"System," Ren muttered.
The translucent blue panel materialized in the dim room. A backlog of notifications sat waiting for him. He hadn't actually checked his interface since the fight in the abandoned building yesterday afternoon. Gojo had whisked him away to the basement before he had the chance to look at anything.
Ren tapped the glowing alert icon.
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: First Cursed Spirit Kill (Grade 2)]
[REWARD ACQUIRED: 1,000 System Points]
[Standard Extermination Yield: Grade 2 Cursed Spirit = 50 System Points]
Ren let out a slow breath. He swiped down to check his totals.
[Current Balance: 6,095 System Points]
Over six thousand points. He leaned back against the stiff headboard, crossing his arms. It was a massive jump from grinding garbage-tier curses in Harajuku for five points a pop.
He brought up the upgrade menu. He already knew bumping his tantō, the Wraith's Fang, from a Grade 2 to a Grade 1 tool cost 5,000 points. He finally had enough to do it.
But he hesitated.
The Wraith's Fang gave him the ability to see curses. It was essential. But it was still just a fourteen-inch knife. Getting close enough to punch that armored gorilla curse yesterday had almost gotten his head ripped off. He needed actual reach.
"Inventory," he said quietly.
The gray grid appeared. In the second slot sat the reward from his Jujutsu High admission.
Ren glanced at the hotel door. The deadbolt was locked. Gojo wasn't going to teleport through the ceiling to poke his nose into his business, and Nanami explicitly didn't care what they did as long as they were in the lobby by seven. It was safe.
He selected the second slot.
Space warped slightly near his right hand. Ren reached out and closed his fingers around a tightly wrapped hilt. He pulled it free, letting the weapon fully materialize in his grip.
It was a katana. The scabbard was a matte, charcoal gray. It carried a heavy, solid weight that immediately grounded him. Ren rested it across his lap, running a thumb over the dark metal of the handguard.