Twenty minutes after the Friday afternoon school bell rang, most of the Toyonoki Academy campus was empty.
Eriri took her school bag and walked alone along the tree-lined path leading to the old club building. The setting sun stretched her shadow long, and her golden twin tails glowed with a warm luster in the afterglow. Today, she had turned down all invitations to "go home together," using the half-truth that "something was happening at the art club."
There really was something happening, but it wasn't the art club.
On the third floor of the club activity building, the door to room 307 was closed. When Eriri opened the door, the first thing she saw was a familiar figure by the window.
Utaha Kasumigaoka was sitting at the table by the window. Her laptop screen was on, and her fingers were rapidly tapping the keyboard. Today, she wasn't wearing her school uniform—just a white shirt and a pleated skirt, her slender legs crossed, her black stockings gleaming softly in the sunset.
The most noticeable thing was the pair of glasses on her nose: silver round frames, simple in shape, the lenses glowing with a very faint indigo light.
They were the special "curse vision glasses" that Genji had made for her three days ago using cursed energy.
"You're here?" Utaha didn't look up, her voice calm. "The door's open."
Eriri closed the door and put her school bag on an empty table beside her. She walked over to Utaha and looked closely at the screen—it was densely packed with text that looked like a novel manuscript, but the content was…
"Cursed Energy Elementary Particle Hypothesis… Emotional Waves and Cursed Energy Resonance Models… Mathematical Foundations of Barrier Techniques…" Eriri read a few of the headings, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Are you really writing this?"
"Why not?" Utaha finally stopped typing and looked up. Her crimson eyes looked at Eriri through the special glasses, her gaze behind the lenses even sharper. "Now that I know another side of the world, wouldn't it be a waste not to record it?"
She adjusted her glasses and added, "And Lord Zen'in Genji's knowledge system is very complete—from basic theories to advanced applications, including the detours and failed experiments he made during his research… If this material were lost, it would be a loss for human civilization."
"Sounds like you want to be the Sima Qian of the jujutsu world," Eriri complained, but inwardly she had to admit that Utaha was indeed very serious about her work.
Ever since Utaha had witnessed the conversation between Genji and Suguru Geto in the café three days ago, she had shown an astonishing curiosity about the world of "curses."
She asked questions ranging from basic concepts to advanced theories, from historical evolution to modern applications—some of which even required Genji to take a few seconds to think before answering.
And Genji… seemed pleased.
"After a thousand years, finally, there are non-sorcerers willing to systematically study this knowledge," he had said then, an indescribable relief in his voice. "In my time, most ordinary people were illiterate, and the nobility had biases against things like 'sorcery' and 'onmyoudou'—either fearing it or looking down on it. It was hard to find even a few people who could understand and listen to lectures."
He paused, lowering his voice. "I originally thought that after a thousand years, education would be universal, science would flourish, and the jujutsu world would be able to cultivate more researchers with a theoretical foundation… But it seems the old men at the Jujutsu Headquarters have monopolized knowledge even more ruthlessly than I did."
There was a bit of bitterness in that. Eriri felt that Genji's disappointment with the modern jujutsu world wasn't just because they "hadn't progressed," but because they "hadn't inherited."
He had left behind numerous notes, manuscripts, and research results, hoping that future generations could stand on his shoulders and see further—not to treat his legacy as an idol while being unable to even understand the basic theories.
"So," Utaha had asked, "you don't mind teaching this knowledge to an 'outsider' like me?"
"Why would I mind?" Genji had asked rhetorically. "Knowledge is knowledge. Everyone learns the same way. And…"
He had smiled, a kind of openness in that smile that had crossed a thousand years. "I'm just a ghost possessing a high school girl now. The rules of the jujutsu world can't control me. If you want to learn, I'll teach. How much you learn depends on your ability."
Hence the glasses.
As an ordinary person, Utaha couldn't originally see cursed energy, nor could she see the invisible Genji. These glasses were processed with cursed energy, allowing the wearer to sense the flow of cursed energy, see low-concentration cursed energy residues, and of course, see Genji.
Genji had turned and changed the subject: "The glasses are almost debugged. The basic functions work. But I want to remind you—"
He had looked at Utaha with a serious expression. "The principle of these glasses is to 'fool' your optic nerve into accepting and processing cursed energy information. Wearing them for long periods increases the burden on your brain—up to four hours a day. After that, you may experience headaches, nausea, and even hallucinations."
Utaha had nodded and written "limit four hours per day" in her notebook.
"Also," Genji had continued, "don't use them to look at overly powerful cursed energy sources—for example, a special-grade cursed spirit or a special-grade sorcerer releasing their full power. Information overload could literally burn out your brain."
"Understood," Utaha had written again.
"Finally," Genji had paused, his voice becoming a little complex, "these glasses… might be noticed by people in the jujutsu world. Although I've concealed them, if you encounter a sorcerer with particularly keen perception, they could still be discovered. How will you explain that?"
Utaha had adjusted her glasses, a sly glint in her crimson eyes.
"I'll just say they're the latest smart AR glasses that can display virtual images," she had said naturally. "Anyway, those old antiques in the jujutsu world probably don't even use smartphones, right?"
Genji had been stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Fair enough," he had said. "But be careful. I'll say hello to Suguru Geto and ask him not to make a fuss. As for the others…"
He had looked at Eriri. "If someone from the jujutsu world really comes knocking, you can say I gave her the glasses, and if they have questions, they can come to me directly."
"To you?" Eriri had stared. "Aren't you afraid of being exposed?"
"When it's time to be exposed, it'll be exposed," Genji had shrugged. "Besides, I want to see how the sorcerers of this era react when they see me."
When he said that, his voice was very calm, but Eriri had sensed the underlying anticipation—and a faint hint of mischief.