On the other side — the Tokyo Jujutsu High.
On the mountain roads outside Tokyo, the morning mist had not yet completely dissipated. Stone steps wound upward, surrounded by dense fir forests. Small specks of light filtered through the branches and leaves, hitting the moss-covered, mottled stone slabs. The air was fresh, with the damp scent of grass and earth. Occasionally, the sound of flowing water could be heard in the distance, along with faint bells—the start of a morning service at a nearby temple.
Eriri walked in front.
Today, she had consciously chosen a rather formal outfit: a white shirt with a dark blue checkered pleated skirt, a navy blue blazer over it, her golden twin tails neatly tied as usual, and even two small pearl hairpins. But her hand gripping the strap of her school bag was a little stiff, her knuckles slightly white, and her steps were faster than usual, as if trying to hide her inner nervousness with speed.
"Slow down, Eriri."
Utaha Kasumigaoka's voice came from behind, with her usual calm. Today, the black-haired girl was dressed in a simple black dress and a light gray knitted cardigan, her slender legs still in her iconic black stockings. She carried a leather briefcase, probably stuffed with her laptop and a pair of special glasses. Her steps were unhurried, and her crimson eyes, behind her black-rimmed glasses, looked around as if taking mental notes.
"I'm not… fast," Eriri muttered quietly, but her pace slowed down.
Bringing up the rear was Megumi Kato.
The bob-haired girl was in her ordinary school uniform today: white shirt, dark blue pleated skirt, and a knitted vest of the same color over it. Her presence was still incredibly faint. Even walking on the well-lit stone steps, she seemed as if she might blend into the background shadows at any moment. She held the straps of her school bag with both hands, her steps steady, her expression indifferent, her black eyes calmly scanning the surrounding scenery, as if on an ordinary stroll.
There were a few steps between them, and the atmosphere was somewhat subtly subdued.
Nervous.
Even the calmest, Utaha, was now feeling an indescribable tension in her heart. The Jujutsu High—a place that existed only in the words of Zen'in Genji, Satoru Gojo, and Suguru Geto for training sorcerers. What kind of people were there? What kind of training was it? What kind of rules were there?
Their knowledge of sorcerers was limited to Genji (a thousand-year-old God of Curses), Geto (a special grade, the patriarch of the Star Religious Group), and Gojo (the strongest of the modern era). Which of these three couldn't shake an era?
So much so that in their imagination, the Jujutsu High was probably full of "monsters" of that level, or at least "geniuses" striving toward it.
Now, walking along the stone steps leading to the college, Eriri felt an invisible pressure growing stronger.
She wasn't a sorcerer. She had no innate technique. She had only just begun to manipulate cursed energy. Her only special feature was being able to summon Genji. And what did that "special feature" mean in the eyes of the real sorcerers at the high school?
"Hey, you three."
A sharp voice came from the top of the stone steps.
The three of them looked up simultaneously.
Satoru Gojo was standing on the platform a dozen or so steps above, leaning against a stone pillar of a torii gate, holding a half-eaten strawberry daifuku. Instead of his black student uniform, he had changed into a casual dark gray tracksuit today. His white hair was still eye-catching, and the black blindfold covered his eyes, but the corners of his lips held his signature, cynical smile.
"Gojo-sensei," Eriri whispered a greeting.
"Good morning, Eriri, Kasumigaoka, Kato," Satoru Gojo waved the strawberry daifuku in his hand. "Have you had breakfast? I brought snacks. Want some?"
"…No, thank you," Eriri turned her head away. She was a little unaccustomed to Satoru Gojo's overly casual demeanor—clearly she was about to study at a "supernatural school," but the teacher leading her was half-eating a dessert.
Utaha adjusted her glasses, a hint of scrutiny flickering in her crimson eyes. "Mr. Gojo, how much further is the college?"
"Just around this corner and you'll be there," Satoru Gojo finished the daifuku in a couple of bites, brushed the powdered sugar off his hands, turned, and continued walking. "Follow me. The principal and the students are already waiting."
"Principal?" Eriri's heart jumped.
"Masamichi Yaga, the principal of the college and my teacher," Satoru Gojo said without looking back, a smile in his voice. "Don't be nervous. The old man is good, though he looks a bit fierce. And…"
He paused and added, "He's very interested in Lord Zen'in Genji. After all, he's a legendary existence from a thousand years ago, resurrected. As an educator in jujutsu, it's only natural for him to want to see him."
These words made Eriri even more nervous.
She instinctively looked to the side—today, Zen'in Genji was invisible, but she could feel him. Since morning, he had been floating beside her, silent, but his presence was like a silent barrier, making her feel a little calmer.
"Genji," she whispered into the air. "Will you… come out later?"
"It depends," Genji's voice sounded in her ear, only she could hear it. "If the atmosphere calls for it, I'll come out and say hello. If not, I'll continue being your 'guardian spirit.'"
"What do you mean by 'if the atmosphere calls for it'…"
"For example, if someone tries to bully you," Genji said very casually. "Or if someone tries to test your strength. Or… if someone tries to use 'rules' to suppress you."
Eriri pressed her lips together. She understood Genji's implication—not everyone at the school would be friendly. There might be people who were hostile to her or who would look at her as a "special being" with calculation.
---
The stone steps turned a corner, and the view suddenly opened up.
Before them was an open plain—a square paved with bluestone slabs, surrounded by quaint wooden buildings: the main building, training grounds, dormitories, warehouses—all in traditional Japanese style. But upon closer inspection, one could see many traces of modern modifications: air conditioners, surveillance cameras, and even satellite dishes.
In the center of the square was a stone fountain, the water clear, with a few koi swimming leisurely. In the distance, the outline of a training ground and several moving figures could be seen.
This was the Tokyo Jujutsu High.
"Here we are," Satoru Gojo stopped, turned to the three of them, and the smile at the corners of his lips deepened. "Welcome to the training base for rookies in the jujutsu world—though you're only exchange students."
His gaze swept over Eriri's nervous face, Utaha's calm eyes, Megumi Kato's indifferent expression, and finally lingered on the "empty" air beside Eriri.
Beneath the black blindfold, the Six Eyes operated silently.
He could see it.
He could see the immense existence rooted in the air—the deep indigo cursed energy, profound as the ocean, heavy as a star, yet existing quietly, unconsciously distorting the surrounding cursed energy field. This wasn't "emanation." It was a violation of the rules at a fundamental level, caused by "existence itself."
The corners of Satoru Gojo's lips involuntarily lifted.
This really is… amazing.
"You're here."
A voice came from the direction of the main building.
Masamichi Yaga walked out from the veranda. The principal was tall, dressed in a dark kimono, wearing sunglasses, his expression serious, exuding an aura of quiet authority. Holding a stack of documents in his hand, he strode confidently toward the square.
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