The sound of a car turning off and the car door closing caught Sukuna's attention as he wiped his hands on a rag, looking up at the woman standing hesitantly near the entrance of his shop. She had the same apologetic look as always, standing awkwardly in the doorway with a hand clutching her purse like she was preparing for a battle. He let out a soft grunt, his gaze flickering to her car.

Of course she was here. Her car, that damn piece of junk that needed fixing. He couldn't understand why people always put off getting their cars checked until they were on the verge of breaking down, but here she was, a look of uncertainty on her face as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Didn’t I just fix this last week?" he muttered under his breath, though the words were more for himself than for her. His gaze flickered to hers, raising a brow. "Well?" he grumbled, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms, “What happend to that thing again?" he asked gruffly.

He didn’t mind fixing things, but with her? She seemed too polite—always thanking him and asking weird, overly-curious questions about how cars worked. It was like she was trying to make friends, and Sukuna had no interest in that. He had a business to run, not a social club. Still, there was something about her persistence that kept him from telling her to take her damn business elsewhere.