The previous night at her other job had been a long one, and Sadayo would have preferred to lay in bed and recuperate rather than showing up bright and early at school for any reason. That the reason was standing beside the school's blancmange of a principal and being introduced to a juvenile delinquent who would be under her supervision made the whole situation that much worse. Just what she needed, really.
As the principal burbled his threats, which were quite novel, really, but she wasn't the one being threatened and so couldn't quite bring herself to take an interest, she studied the new student. It was disturbingly like looking at a picture of herself -- the way that the girl's hair seemed to go everywhere was really reminiscent of her own messy hairdo -- except that in actual pictures of herself at that age, humhum years ago, there had still been glimmers of hope in her eyes that hadn't quite gotten beat out of her by high school. Those were absent in this Kurusu girl.
That was probably good, though.
"Kawakami-sensei?" said the blancmange.
Sadayo abruptly realized that she had been asked to introduce herself and been in such a daze from her fatigue that she had completely ignored it. She coughed. "Yes," she said, not sure what she was agreeing to but wanting her agreement to be clear. "I'm Kawakami Sadayo. Um, be sure to read the school rules. Any violations will send you straight to the guidance office. And if by chance you cause any problems, I won't be able to protect you at all." What a weird thing to say. When had she been able to protect anybody?
And yet, behind those glasses, she had the strange feeling that she was seeing some sort of disappointment in the eyes of that girl. The whole thing was weird and kept getting weirder.
Deciding that asking for reassurance when she had just embarrassed herself like that was probably not a good idea, Sadayo pressed on. "Right, so, come to the faculty office when you arrive at school tomorrow. I'll show you to your classroom."
That got a polite bow out of the girl, at least.
"Sakura-san, please keep an eye on her," said the blanc-- principal to the girl's guardian. "If she should cause trouble outside of the school, it won't be --"
"Of course, of course," said the bearded man. "I'll be sure to remind her of the situation regularly. Well, if you'll excuse us both, I have a business to run, so we'll be on our way."
The weirdness continued. While the words were properly deferential, Sadayo had the distinct impression that Sakura was completely unimpressed with the principal. Which was understandable, because he wasn't all that impressive, but shouldn't he be pretending to make sure that the student followed his example?
"Heck of a situation," said one of her colleagues a few moments later, as they stood outside the school building beneath a covered walkway.
Sadayo shook her head. "I can't believe they pushed someone with a record on me. Well, I guess all the other female teachers do have seniority, so it does --"
"What is she like?" he interrupted.
"Eh?"
"What does she look like, this juvie we've been saddled with?"
The weirdness was never going to stop, it seemed. What did her looks matter? Despite her bewilderment, Sadayo nevertheless made an attempt to describe the student, giving just a bare bones level of detail, not mentioning any of the impressions she'd formed. Like how the girl had been hiding behind Sakura, as much as she could under the circumstances. And that flash of disappointment. None of his business, any of it.
"Got it," said Kamoshida, nodding firmly. "You don't have to worry about a thing. I'll be keeping an eye out for our little problem." And then he smiled, just like he had in the pictures from his victory all those years before.
Why did it suddenly seem so menacing?
Weirdness.
"Traffic's not moving at all," Sojiro grumbled, staring out at the traffic so as to avoid looking at the way that his passenger was all but hugging the passenger side door in an attempt to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible. It would have been funny if … no, it wouldn't.
"You'll be taking the train to school, starting tomorrow," he continued after a moment, just to fill the silent spaces more than anything else. "Think you can manage that?"
"Yessir," she said.
Standard Kurusu answer. "Well, just … just don't make any trouble for me, all right?" Sojiro repeated. "I've got a -- I've got other stuff to deal with, and I can't have you adding to the problems. I'm not sure why I agreed to this … well, no. I do know -- that's how the adult world works. I owed someone a few favors, and they know your parents, so they asked her, and she asked me, and now here we are. I owed favors. It's probably how you got in your situation with that guy, too."
"Yes," she said, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I owe him a lot."
It was the first bit of personal information she had volunteered since she arrived. Sojiro opened his mouth to say that there were favors you should avoid incurring, but he was interrupted by the radio. "Repeating the hour's top story: a subway has derailed at Shibuya station, causing serious delays for traffic throughout --"
Sojiro shut it off. The last thing someone who was going to be traveling by train pretty frequently in the not too distant future needed was this sort of news. He glanced at his passenger.
No reaction to the news at all.
There was something seriously wrong with this young woman.
Of course there is, he added silently. Why else would she be around me?
Apparently, the inevitability of this encounter and the necessity of its occurrence had finally impressed themselves on the inmate, who had at last arisen from her bunk and walked over to the doorway. Caroline found it frustrating that the prisoner only rested her hands on the horizontal bars rather than gripping the vertical ones as would have been appropriate, but now was not the time to address it.
"Good evening," said the master. "I am Igor. Welcome to My Velvet Room."
No response. Caroline prepared to chastise the inmate for her lack of polite response to the greeting, but a subtle gesture from Justine stopped her.
"This place exists between mind and matter, and only those bound by a contract may enter," the master continued. "I have brought you here to discuss certain important matters concerning your life." He paused, to graciously permit a reaction to this declaration, but when one was not in evidence, he proceeded forth. "This place reflects your consciousness, and so it is not surprising that it resembles a prison. For you are, indeed, a prisoner of fate, and ruin awaits you if --"
Now there was a reaction, but it was more inappropriate than Caroline could possibly have expected. This inmate laughed.
"R-ruin?" she managed to say when the first moments of hysteria had spent themselves. "What more can you possibly do to me?"
"I speak of the end of all that is," the Master replied. "Only by rehabilitating yourself can you --"
The inmate stepped back from the gate to her cell.
"The Master is not done addressing you!" Caroline snapped.
Apparently, the inmate did not care, for she slumped back onto the bunk, facing towards the cell wall. Caroline glanced furiously towards Justine, hefting her truncheon, but a not-all-that-subtle head shake dissuade her.
"You have not directly refused, and so I will continue to observe your rehabilitation," said the Master, apparently unfazed by any of this. "The night is almost done, and more will be explained at a future time, when perhaps you will be more ready to hear it."
Caroline thought she heard a faint chuckle come from the inmate's collapsed form, but she saw no motion in the darkness of the cell. It vexed her all the same.