"What's that?" she asked.
"Something I made on the train."
"You made jewelry?"
"Try not to sound so shocked," he said.
She grabbed the pendant from his hand. The metal felt strangely heavy. Turning it over, she noticed tiny engraved letters worked into the design: R. M. M. Ren. Mai. Maki. Her eyes lifted. For once, Ren looked slightly awkward.
"It took longer than I expected," he muttered.
"How long?"
He shrugged. "Couple hours."
That answer immediately sounded suspicious. Mai narrowed her eyes. "How much did this cost you?"
"A lot."
"Ren."
He sighed. "Five thousand units."
Mai blinked, her brain stalling on the phrasing. "Units? You mean... five thousand yen?"
Ren held her gaze for a split second, then just gave a single, simple nod.
"You spent five thousand yen on random metal?" Mai stared at him like he had lost his mind. "I could buy a decent lunch with that."
"You were busy having a crisis. I was busy being productive," he said smoothly. He gestured toward her hand. "Relax. I have more."
Mai looked down at the necklace resting quietly in her palm, still shaking her head at his financial choices. "What does it even do?"
Ren's smile returned. "There she is."
"What?"
"The part where you stop panicking and start asking useful questions."
Mai rolled her eyes. "Answer me."
He took the necklace from her hands and stepped behind her. She felt his fingers brush the back of her neck as he fastened it into place. The pendant settled against her collarbone.
For a moment, nothing happened. Mai looked down. "...Okay?"
Ren stepped back. "Use Construction."
She blinked. "What? Make a bullet? Ren, I literally just told you I can't."
"Humor me."
She let out a long sigh. "Fine." Her hand lifted. She focused, reaching for her technique—reaching for the tiny spark that should have been there.
The second her cursed energy touched the necklace, it sparked with a sharp snap.
A perfectly formed 9mm brass casing dropped onto the scuffed linoleum with a sharp clink.
Mai didn't even blink. Her hand was still outstretched. She hadn't strained, braced herself, or squeezed her eyes shut. There was no familiar headache, no heavy exhaustion settling into her chest. Instead of trying to wring a single drop of water from a dry sponge, her technique had just tapped straight into an ocean.
She stared at the bullet by her boot, then slowly looked up at Ren.
"What is this?" she asked, her voice hushed.
"A battery," Ren said, leaning back against the dead vending machine. "The metal itself stores cursed energy. When you use Construction, the pendant bypasses your empty tank and pulls whatever you need straight from the necklace."
Mai wrapped her fingers around the metal pendant. It was humming faintly against her skin, dense and alive. "How much is in here?"
"Right now? About the equivalent of a baseline Special Grade," Ren said casually.
Mai choked on her next breath. "A what?"
"It holds a lot," he clarified, crossing his arms. "But don't go crazy with it. Keep a couple of things in mind."
"First, it's not infinite. If you start spamming sniper rifles and artillery shells, you will drain it. Treat it like a massive magazine, not a cheat code. Make your shots count."
"Second, it can be recharged. If you feel the feed getting low, find someone with a lot of juice and have them pump their cursed energy straight into the pendant. It absorbs foreign energy automatically and stores it for you to use."
Mai frowned, her tactical brain immediately tearing into the logistics. "Someone else. Like who? Utahime? Todo?"
"Anyone," Ren confirmed. "Just don't explain what it actually does. Tell them it's a quirky cursed tool that needs a jumpstart. Satoru actually topped it off yesterday in about three seconds without even breaking a sweat."
Mai just stared at him. "You scammed Satoru Gojo into charging this necklace??"
"Yeah, kind of," Ren corrected smoothly. "Look, the point is, you aren't defenseless. You lost your natural reserves, but you just gained a Special Grade battery."
Mai stared at the silver chain. Her thumb rubbed back and forth over the engraved letters.
"You know you didn't have to do this," she muttered, her voice dropping low. She refused to look at him, keeping her focus entirely on the scuffed linoleum. "I mean... it's a waste."
Ren frowned. "A waste."
"I'm not that strong anyway," she mumbled, kicking half-heartedly at the brass bullet near her boot. "Even with enough cursed energy, Construction is slow... I just sit in the back and take potshots while others do the actual work. You shouldn't have spent all that on me."
Ren pushed off the vending machine. He stepped into her space, hooked a knuckle under her chin, and nudged her head up.
Mai tried to avert her gaze, but his grip was firm. He stared down at her, his expression entirely unamused by the self-pity.
Then, he pulled his hand back and delivered a sharp, open-handed slap to her cheek.
It wasn't a heavy blow, but the sudden smack was loud in the quiet alcove. A hot, quick sting instantly bloomed across her skin.
Mai gasped, her eyes snapping wide. Her hand flew to her face. "What the hell is wrong with—"
"Stop." Ren cut her off, keeping his voice low. "I don't want to hear that garbage again."
He didn't give her space to process it. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her up off the bench.
Mai stumbled slightly, her boots scraping the linoleum, before her back hit the solid metal of the vending machine. Ren stepped directly into her space, caging her in. He leaned down, stopping when their lips were just inches apart.
Mai stared up at him. The skin of her cheek was still flushed pink from the slap. Her dark eyes were glassy, the raw, overwhelmed frustration pushing her right to the edge of actually crying.
Before the first tear could spill, Ren dropped both hands to her waist, gripped her tightly, and kissed her.
She let out a short, startled gasp against his mouth, and he took the opening. His tongue swept past her lips, deepening the kiss immediately. For a split second, she stood frozen against the cold metal—then she pulled him closer, opening her mouth wider and yielding completely to the heavy, demanding rhythm he set.
He took his time, exploring her mouth until her knees started to give out, forcing him to hold her up by her waist.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. A thin, silver string of saliva caught between their lips for a second before snapping in the quiet air.
Mai stayed pinned against the machine, her chest heaving. The tears hadn't fallen, but her face was a burning, chaotic red. She looked up at him, her brain completely short-circuiting.
Ren didn't answer. His hands slid lower, dropping past her hips to grip her securely, giving her a firm squeeze.