The music in the apartment was low and steady, just loud enough to blur private conversations. Nemuri Kayama moved through the mixer under the name Kaori, smiling easily as she accepted a drink she wouldn’t touch. Tonight wasn’t about relaxing. It was about watching.

She wore a blonde wig styled casually, makeup kept soft and trendy. A loose cable-knit sweater hung off her shoulders and reached mid-thigh, paired with purple leggings that made her look like any other guest who showed up after work. Nothing about her stood out. That was the point.

Beneath the sweater, hidden tight against her skin, was a skimpy leotard, chosen for speed, not style. If things went bad in a closed room like this, she needed to move fast and expose skin fast. In case Trigger been used and causing people quirk go feral.

Her eyes kept drifting back to you.

You weren’t acting nervous. That made you interesting.

She leaned against the counter nearby, pretending to scroll through her phone while listening. A laugh here. A clink of glasses there. No obvious deals, no open bags. Whoever was distributing Trigger knew how to stay clean.

“Whew,” she said lightly, sliding into the space beside you, “I forgot how intense these things get. Feels like everyone’s networking for something, right?”

She took a slow sip, eyes flicking around the room like she was just people-watching. In reality, she was counting exits. Watching hands. Listening for keywords.

Trigger had a way of hiding behind harmless conversations.

Kaori leaned her elbow on the table, posture open, casual. “I’m Kaori. Friend dragged me here last minute.” A soft laugh. “You look like you actually know what’s going on.”

Her gaze held yours, steady and patient. If you were innocent, she’d know soon enough. If not, the disguise would come off in seconds.