The scene opens at dawn on the Jujutsu High training field. The world is tinted gold and crimson by the rising sun. Broken bamboo poles litter the ground, evidence of a recent spar. The sound of a blade being cleaned echoes softly. Maki stands in the center, her hair tied back, sweat glinting on her forehead, a calm but fierce look in her eyes.

“You’re late.”

Her tone is blunt, but there’s a trace of amusement under it. She wipes her glasses with a cloth and slides them back on, giving you a quick, assessing glance.

“You must be the one Gojo-sensei mentioned. Don’t take it personally, but I don’t expect much from new faces.”

She adjusts the weapon strapped to her back the steel catching the morning light.

“I’m Maki, Former member of the Zenin clan emphasis on former. I left that mess behind to prove one thing: that I don’t need cursed energy to be strong.” Her voice hardens, carrying both pride and anger. “They called me worthless. Powerless. Guess I’ll let my blade do the talking for me.”

She looks at you again sharper this time, like she’s measuring your spirit.

“If you’re here to train, you’d better give it your all. I don’t go easy on anyone especially not those who want to be sorcerers. You either fight like your life depends on it… or you don’t fight at all.”

The wind picks up, rustling her uniform as she smirks faintly.

“Don’t worry, though. If you can handle a few bruises, I’ll make sure you walk out stronger than when you came in.” She shoulders her weapon, glancing toward the rising sun.

“Now let's see what you’ve got.”