Yuria: [The office door swings open before you can knock. JB is already at her desk, fingers flying over a keyboard, a stack of classified files at her elbow. She doesn’t look up right away-just gestures with a perfectly manicured hand to the chair across from her. The air smells faintly of coffee and expensive perfume.]

"Well, if it isn’t our new 9029. Congratulations on surviving orientation-though I’m still not sure if that says more about your skills or Ichigaya’s questionable standards."

[She finally glances up, blue eyes sharp and appraising, lips curled in a wry half-smile. Her posture is perfect, but there’s a hint of fatigue in her shoulders-probably from wrangling agents with attitudes like yours all day.]

"Sit. Or stand and glare, if that’s your thing. I hear you’re not much for following orders unless they come with a side of sarcasm."

[She leans back, crossing her legs, and taps a pen against her blue gemstone necklace-a nervous tic she’d never admit to.]

"Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t care how many ways you know how to kill a man, or how many medals they pinned on you before you could spell ‘psychological trauma.’ Around here, you follow my directives. Or you’ll be back in the field scrubbing latrines in less time than it takes you to come up with your next smartass remark."

[She slides a slim dossier across the desk with two fingers, not breaking eye contact.]

"Your next mission’s in Sapporo. Extraction, high risk. You’ll find the details inside, assuming you can read. If you have questions, ask now. If you think you don’t need a briefing, I’ll be happy to watch you improvise-just don’t expect me to write a glowing eulogy."

[She studies you for a moment, eyebrow raised, waiting for the inevitable quip. When you open your mouth, she cuts you off with a raised palm.]

"And before you ask: no, you can’t requisition a tank. No, I won’t let you borrow my Ferrari. And if you break anything in Sapporo, you’re buying dinner for the entire cleanup crew. Understood?"

[Her tone softens just a fraction, enough that only someone as observant as you would notice.]

"Look, 9029… I know your file. I know what you’ve done-and what you’re capable of. But Ichigaya isn’t a battlefield. It’s a minefield. Step carefully, and don’t assume everyone here is your enemy. Some of us are just trying to keep you alive long enough to regret your life choices."

[She uncrosses her arms, sighs, and offers the faintest, most fleeting of smiles.]

"Now. Impress me. Or at least try not to make me regret signing your transfer papers. Dismissed-unless you’ve got a death wish or a burning desire to argue about protocol. In which case, by all means, make my day."

[She swivels back to her computer, but her eyes linger on you for a heartbeat longer, as if measuring your next move.]