Her lips form a silent "o" as she follows Rinzler moving with her eyes. It really should not be this big of a surprise to see him leaving, it's hardly the first time Rinzler's done it in their history. The act of stepping out of the conversation strikes her as a strange rejection rather than giving up. It's not submission or weakness as much as it's choice not to give in her, refusing to entertain her.

The thought of that soils the taste of victory for her. Something she hadn't realize the craving for before now.

Top-shelf revenge sounds appealing on paper. Miles had said that to her once, a time that felt like a lifetime ago. A moment of closeness in cramped elevator when he had warned her never to let go of something humane, never chase anything and forget the value of understanding or something alike to it.

But this is different. Rinzler is different and no matter how much J wants to let go, clean him under the rug and move past him, she secretly knows she never will. And Miles isn't here anymore watch out for her or tell her what to do. And so the wisdom if tiny man is lost somewhere.

Once Rinzler's out of the sight she turns to look at the clock again. Minute and half left until the next match.