On Friday evening, the Sawamura residence was bathed in a warm orange sunset.
As Eriri pushed her bicycle into the yard, the first thing she saw was a black luxury car parked by the entrance—sleek body, gleaming paint, and a winged "B" logo on the front that glowed faintly in the afterglow. It wasn't the diplomatic car her father often used, nor the style her mother preferred.
There are guests.
Her heart beat a little faster, but she didn't think much of it. Her father was a diplomat, her mother came from a distinguished family—it was normal for the household to receive guests occasionally. She parked her bicycle in the garage, brushed non-existent dust from her school skirt, adjusted her golden twin tails that were slightly messy from cycling, then took a deep breath, put on the gentle expression of the perfect lady she was used to at school, and pushed open the entrance door.
"I'm home—"
Her voice abruptly stopped.
In the living room, her mother, Sayuri Sawamura, was sitting on the sofa with an exquisite bone china tea set. Today, she wore a lavender kimono, her long hair casually tied up, a proper smile on her face—but Eriri immediately sensed that beneath that smile was a slight tension.
And the man sitting across from her mother…
White hair. Tall figure. Black uniform. And an eye-catching, pure black blindfold over his eyes.
"Eriri, you're back," Sayuri stood up, her smile becoming more natural, but a flicker of concern crossed her eyes. "This is Mr. Satoru Gojo, a teacher at the Tokyo Jujutsu High. He said… he has something he wants to discuss with you."
Satoru Gojo also stood up. He was a head taller than Eriri, and even standing still, he had an invisible sense of pressure. But a smile was on his face—relaxed, even somewhat cynical—which diluted that pressure.
"Eriri Sawamura, right?" He spoke, his voice slightly compelling, his tone casual, as if greeting an acquaintance. "I'm Satoru Gojo, a teacher at the jujutsu school. Sorry for the sudden visit. I didn't scare you, did I?"
Eriri calmed herself. She remembered Suguru Geto mentioning this name—the "strongest" of the modern era, the bearer of the Six Eyes.
"Not at all," she tried to speak steadily, walked over to her mother and sat down, placing her hands on her knees, her posture impeccably elegant. "Hello, Mr. Gojo. May I ask… do you have business with me?"
Sayuri sat down again and poured her daughter a cup of tea. The heat of the black tea rose, forming a thin barrier between the three of them.
Satoru Gojo also leaned back on the sofa. He crossed his legs, relaxed his posture as if sitting in his own home, and even naturally took a cookie from Sayuri's plate and took a bite with a crunch.
"Mm, this cookie is delicious. The butter is just right," he narrowed his eyes with satisfaction, then turned to Eriri and got straight to the point. "So, I'll say it directly—Eriri, you have the talent of a sorcerer. You should have recently felt the existence of cursed energy, right?"
Sayuri's fingers tightened slightly. She looked at Eriri, her eyes full of worry.
Eriri was silent for two seconds, then nodded slightly. "…Yes."
"Right," Satoru Gojo took another cookie. "The Jujutsu Headquarters—the governing body of the jujutsu world—has detected new cursed energy fluctuations in Tokyo, and the source is traced to you. According to the rules, anyone who awakens cursed energy must register, be assessed, and then decide whether to enter the technical college system for training or… well, be monitored."
"Mr. Gojo," Sayuri said, her voice remaining soft, but with a mother's unique firmness. "Eriri is just an ordinary high school student. She has her own life, studies, and dreams. As for the jujutsu world… we don't know much about it, but shouldn't she have the right to choose her own path?"
"Of course she has the right to choose," Satoru Gojo nodded, his voice sincere. "That's why I'm here today not to take her by force, but to 'invite' her."
"The Technical College can teach you how to control your cursed energy, teach you how to protect yourself, and teach you how to survive in the jujutsu world." Satoru Gojo continued. "And I'm not asking you to drop out of school to become a full-time sorcerer. You can continue your studies at Toyonoki Academy. You just need to come to the college for training in your spare time. Once you've mastered the basics, can control your cursed energy, and no longer unconsciously attract cursed spirits, you can return to a normal life—of course, if you're still interested in jujutsu then, you can continue to study it in depth."
This proposal sounded reasonable. One could even say it was very accommodating.
But Sayuri's eyebrows didn't relax. She looked at Satoru Gojo and asked slowly, "Mr. Gojo, in your opinion… is the jujutsu world safe?"
The question was direct.
Satoru Gojo laughed. There was a complex meaning in that laugh—as if self-mockery, as if understanding.
"It's not safe," he admitted frankly. "Sorcerers are a high-risk profession. People die every year. Internal strife among cursed spirits, curse masters, and even sorcerers… the world has never been safe."
He paused and added, "But the Technical College is a relatively safe place. There are barrier protections, teacher guidance, and classmates who look out for each other. And…"
He looked at Eriri, the corners of his mouth curving into an arc beneath his black blindfold.
"I've heard that Eriri has a very powerful 'guardian' around her?"
The air froze.
Sayuri suddenly looked at Eriri. Eriri's back immediately stiffened. She opened her mouth to deny it, but seeing Satoru Gojo's expression—"I know everything"—she swallowed the words.
"You… what are you talking about?" She whispered, her voice a little weak.
"Don't be nervous, don't be nervous," Satoru Gojo waved his hand and leaned back on the sofa, his relaxed posture as if he were just chatting. "I just feel that besides you mother and daughter, there is a very special and ancient cursed energy residue in this house. Although it's well hidden, it can't escape my 'eyes.'"
He pointed to his black blindfold.
"The Six Eyes. They see through all flows of cursed energy. There's a foreign cursed energy mark on you. Very faint, but the quality is frighteningly high. Moreover, this house is full of residues of the same cursed energy—like traces left by someone who has lived and moved here for a long time."
He paused, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
"I think Eriri has been able to live safely until now, not becoming a target for cursed spirits—that shouldn't be just luck, right? Is there someone… well, a senior, secretly protecting you?"
The living room was so quiet that the ticking of the wall clock could be heard.
Sayuri looked at Eriri with complex eyes. She had long felt that her daughter was acting a little strangely—sometimes talking to thin air, sometimes bringing extra snacks back to her room, sometimes suddenly showing a relaxed expression as if "someone is nearby." But she had never asked, thinking it was just a teenager's imaginary friend.
But now it seemed…
"Eriri," Sayuri asked softly, her voice not reproachful, but full of worry, "is it true?"
Eriri lowered her head. She looked at her clenched hands, her nails digging into her palms, causing a distinct pain.
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