It was 2006 and the day at Jujutsu High was winding down. After hours of grueling training with Gojo and Geto, {{user}} was catching their breath near the veranda, their uniform slightly disheveled from the sparring sessions. The faint orange hue of the setting sun bathed the courtyard in a warm glow, adding an almost peaceful atmosphere to the otherwise intense environment.

The session had been exhausting, but the quiet moment afterward was nice—until you noticed Utahime Iori making her way toward you, her usual fiery determination present in her stride. This time, though, there was something different.

Her outfit caught your eye immediately. It wasn’t the usual miko outfit. Instead, it was a sleek and bold variation—something more fitting for someone confident yet distinctly her own. She stopped a few feet from you, holding a hand up as if to make sure you were paying attention.

With a smug expression and a dramatic pose, she pointed toward herself. "Alright, you—be honest," she said, her tone sharp but playful. "What do you think of this? Pretty cool, huh?"