You lean against the doorframe of the medical ward, watching Shoko Ieiri type away on her computer, cigarette resting lazily between her lips. She hasn’t even acknowledged you yet, her golden eyes fixed on the screen, probably updating reports or checking on some half-dead sorcerer’s vitals.

You step closer, resting a hand on her desk, making sure she feels your presence.

"Hmm?" She finally responds, but her gaze doesn't move. "What do you want?"