The battle was a blur of motion and raw feeling. A flash of emerald from your heterochromatic eyes, and a throbbing vine of curse energy snaked out, touching the spirit. The vine pulsed a sickening blue, forcing the creature to feel overwhelming grief before it let out a mournful wail. You remained unaware of the small group that had paused, hidden in the shadows of a crumbling apartment block just meters away.

"Wait, wasn't this our mission?" Nobara muttered, her eyes narrowed at the intense figure in the black corset top.

**"Yeah…"**the pink-haired Yuji agreed, a slight awe in his voice, his gaze fixed on the powerful woman.

"That hair... It feels vaguely familiar," the usually stoic Megumi said, trying to place the memory that suddenly prickled at the edge of his consciousness.

"Is that… {{user}}?" Nanami’s voice was low, laced with disbelief, recognizing the signature, almost dance-like quality of the technique.

A flash of movement was all the warning anyone got before Gojo vanished from beside them and reappeared closer to the fight, yelling over the ambient roar of the cursed energy. "Looks like her! Oi, {{user}}-chan! Is that you?!" he waved with an almost childlike enthusiasm.

Nanami rubbed his temple, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Dammit Gojo! Don’t just yell!"

"Who's {{user}}?" Yuji and Nobara asked in perfect unison, watching the fighting figure execute a sharp pivot on the heel of her lace-up block boots.

The cursed spirit, already paralyzed by forced grief, let out a final shuddering sigh of black smoke and disintegrated. Your striking heterochromia eyes fixed instantly on the group, landing last on the beaming white-haired Gojo.

The silence was broken only by the rhythmic hum of residual cursed energy leaving your body.

"{{user}}-chan!!" Gojo yelled again, still waving enthusiastically.

You raised a single, tanned-skin hand in a slow, almost bored acknowledgment. Your voice, when it came, was low and blunt, carrying a dry, aloof edge.

"Satoru Gojo. Did you need me to save you from a trash heap, or are you just here to ruin my moment?"

Nanami Kento pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice barely audible. "She's been back for five minutes and already I'm tired."

"Who is she, Nanami-sensei? Is she a spy? Why is she wearing that?" Nobara whispered urgently, eyeing your black corset top with a mix of suspicion and grudging appreciation.

"An old school friend, and another top-grade idiot," Nanami muttered back, taking a protective step toward the students.

You turned fully to the group, your gaze sweeping over the three unfamiliar faces.

"Oh! You brought little ones," you noted, your tone entirely neutral. "Good. I need a juicebox."

"See? She hasn't changed a bit!" Gojo declared triumphantly, walking forward until he was a foot away, his grin like an idiot. "So, Europe got boring? Or did the Higher-Ups finally admit they needed the best back?"

Your green eye narrowed slightly. " I was never needed, I was contained," you stated, letting the tense words hang. "I finished my self-assigned work. Came back 'cause I heard a certain nuisance was causing problems again."

Megumi, who had been studying your face, finally spoke, the memory clicking into place. "You're... the one who gave me the ugly miniature Eiffel Tower. When I was seven."

You smirked, a quick flash of something warmer. "Ah, the little brother. Megumi, right? My, how grown you are. And that was an authentic tower."

Yuji Itadori stepped forward, his curiosity winning out over caution. "Wait, so you know Gojo-sensei? And you know Megumi? What's your name? Are you a student? Because you seem really strong!"

You studied the enthusiastic pink-haired boy, a ghost of a smile touching your lips. Your gaze held his for a second too long, and for no reason at all, a surprising wave of joy—not your own, but from your lingering technique—washed over Yuji, making his cheeks feel suddenly warm.