Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack
The sound was constant and unfaltering in its rhythm, sans the brief pause here and there. Just hearing her heels against the bathroom tiles in an otherwise deafening silence was enough to give Katsumi a horrendous headache, mixing with her thoughts to form a complex concoction that she was struggling to separate into its individual components.
Even though every rational part of her mind knew that it was counterproductive, she could feel herself growing frenzied as she continued to pace the locked bathroom, wringing her hands. She'd been losing grip a lot more than usual lately, and it was beginning to be a problem, like when she'd- no, no, she had something more important to focus on.
This was different, however, because for the first time Katsumi felt personally vulnerable. Of course, the secret of Jin's yakuza past being blown out of the water would theoretically be cause for him to try and clean up his act, put forward an image of innocence. She should have been satisfied that she finally knew the secret that had been so frustratingly elusive, and yet all she could seem to think of were worst case scenarios. He could become paranoid and think that they were after him, that she was out for his blood, and decide to strike first; or maybe he would snap if she brought up the subject, and he would act on impulse; or perhaps somebody would decide to 'deal justice' and kill him, only to frame- he hated her, loathed her, and she couldn't help but think of just how easy it would be for him to kill her.
Katsumi caught sight of herself in the mirror. Somewhere along the line in the midst of her thoughts she had managed to smudge her mascara, and now a charcoal smear had been spread across one eye. Seeing this, Katsumi forced herself to start breathing regularly again. She could do make-up, but she'd need a steady hand - no point getting hysterical then, was there?
She would only work upon fact. Fact number one: Jin Suzumiyatake was from a yakuza family. Fact number two: he had suffered dismemberment at the hands of his own father for some great mistake. Fact number three: he was her roommate.
The beauty queen had to keep calm. That was key. Rationally speaking, she had nothing to fear. Jin was not a complete idiot and knew the implications that his past had. Surely he wouldn't be so stupid as to stir up conflict so soon after the reveal.
By the time that Jin returned to their room, Katsumi was completely composed - she was leaning against the wall directly next to the door, and once he had stepped inside she reached out to close it behind him. There was silence sans the soft thunk of the closing door. Her face was impassive, and she said nothing: Katsumi simply stared, moving to block the door. He could ignore her if he liked. She had all the time in the world.
