Suguru breathes in sharply, pursing her lips and glaring at Satoru. She's partially right— it definitely means something to her, and she's putting actual emotions into it because it's not just a song she thought up on the fly— but the way Satoru approaches it is galling, and really digs under her skin.

"Glad to see you haven't changed, you're still as emotionally stunted as you were when I left. I thought you were smart," she says, icy cold, eyes as frosty as her voice. She's hurt, deep down beneath everything, and annoyed at herself for letting Satoru get beneath her skin, but she won't let Satoru see that, and covers it up with sharp disappointment. "An actress, aren't you? You were in movies. But clearly they just wanted you for your name, and maybe your tits. No wonder why your songs lack substance."

She hastily sends off an email to Satoru, attaching the song, and then turns to leave.

"Bring whatever you want to the song, I don't care. Think whatever story you want about it." She stops and turns to look at Satoru again. Satoru is taller than her by an inch and a half, and better at looming, but Suguru knows how to glare, how to pitch her gaze so even the tallest people around her feel like she's looking down on them. "You aren't as subtle as you think, Gojo. I'm not going to play your stupid games."

She strides off after that, slamming the door after her.