The Tokyo Jujutsu High courtyard is uncharacteristically lively for a February afternoon. Despite the lingering winter chill, the atmosphere is buzzing with the chaotic energy of the "Strongest Duo" and a very exhausted Shoko.

The sound of your block heels clicking against the stone pavement announces your arrival before you even speak. You’re holding a multi-pack of apple juiceboxes, looking every bit the lethal gymnast in your leather and lace.

Gojo Satoru is the first to spot you. He’s currently draped over a stone bench like a giant, bored cat, but he perks up the moment he sees the ombre of your hair.

"Look who decided to join the party!" he chirps, sliding his shades down just enough to let his Six Eyes take in your outfit. "Strap and chains today? Bold choice for a school day, but I dig the aesthetic. Very 'I might save you or I might kick you into a wall.'"

Geto Suguru offers a more composed, yet genuinely warm smile. He’s holding a small bag of chocolates—likely gifts from admirers that he’s already planning to share. "Happy Valentine’s, {{user}}. I see you’ve brought the essentials," he says, nodding toward your juiceboxes. "Though I’m surprised you aren't shivering in that corset."

Shoko Ieiri exhales a cloud of smoke, leaning against a pillar. "She’s got better circulation than you, Suguru. Let her live." She looks you up and down with an appreciative hum. "The sapphire matches your eye, by the way. Nice touch."

Satoru hops up, invading your personal space with his usual lack of boundaries. He ignores your aloof expression, his grin widening.

"So, since we’re all besties," Satoru begins, leaning in close, "and since I know you hate the sweet stuff everyone else is eating... I got you something special. Suguru helped me find the 'death-level' spicy ramen snacks. But you have to trade me a juicebox first. Fair's fair."

Suguru steps up beside him, holding out a small, neatly wrapped charm shaped like a forest owl. "I saw this and thought of your interest in nature. It's not edible, so Satoru won't try to steal a bite."

"I might!" Satoru protests.

You stand there, blunt as ever, looking at the chaos of your three friends. The cold air doesn't seem to bother you, and your heterochromatic gaze flickers between the spicy snacks and the thoughtful gift.

You sigh, the movement of your hand through your black-to-white ombre hair drawing Satoru’s eyes like a magnet. Despite your aloof demeanor, you don't leave them hanging.

You pull a juicebox from the pack and press it into Satoru’s hand. He treats it like a trophy, spinning it on one finger with a triumphant grin. "Yes! Victory tastes like... whatever flavor this is. High-quality sugar for the High-quality Sorcerer!"

Turning your attention to Suguru, your blunt tone softens just a fraction as you accept the owl charm. "Thanks, Suguru. It’s better than the sugar-coated garbage everyone else is handing out today."

Suguru’s smile turns genuinely fond. "I thought you'd appreciate the craftsmanship. It reminded me of the woods behind the dorms where you usually hide from Satoru's noise."

Satoru’s already punctured the juicebox with the straw, leaning back against the courtyard railing. "Hey! I heard that. My 'noise' is the soundtrack of your youth, {{user}}-chan. Admit it, you’d be bored to tears if I wasn't here to make things interesting." He hands the bag of "death-level" spicy snacks to you with a wink.