Back in the past.
Hokkaido, a certain famous ski resort.
The sky was a pure, washed blue, and sunlight poured down without restraint, gilding the rolling Snow Mountains with a dazzling golden edge.
The air was cold and dry, carrying the distinctive sharp scent of pine forests and powder snow.
In the distance, several white ski runs wound down from the peaks like ribbons, dotted with scattered skiers.
Laughter, the scrape of skis, and the mechanical hum of cable cars blended into a vibrant winter symphony.
This was a skier's paradise, a world of ordinary daily life.
And today, this paradise welcomed a particularly unusual group of guests.
"Whoa-!!! So high! So beautiful! Snow! It's snow! Real Snow Mountains!"
Yuji Itadori leaned against the enormous floor-to-ceiling window in the resort lobby, his whole face nearly pressed against the glass.
His eyes were wide and round, sparkling with pure, childlike excitement, and his warm breath misted a small patch of glass.
He wore the bright orange winter jacket with a suspicious cartoon design that Satoru Gojo had bought for everyone, along with a matching knit hat.
He looked like an overly energetic orange basketball, standing out conspicuously in the quiet lobby.
"Hey, you're too loud, idiot." Megumi Fushiguro stood beside him and sighed helplessly.
He wore an understated dark blue winter jacket and a gray scarf, with a little black hair showing beneath his hat.
His expression was as calm as ever, but a closer look revealed that his eyes were a little softer than usual as he gazed at the snowy scenery outside.
"What's the big deal? We hardly ever get a vacation! A vacation, Fushiguro!" Itadori paid him no mind at all, turning around and gesticulating, his voice booming.
"Aren't you excited? We can roll around in the snow