"Then it's settled," he said, taking a business card from his pocket and handing it to Eriri. "This is the college's address and my contact information. At ten o'clock next Saturday, I'll pick you up and take you to the Technical College to look around and meet the principal and your classmates. If you think it's acceptable, we'll go through the formalities."
Eriri took the card. Pure black cardstock printed with silver letters: "Tokyo Jujutsu High" and a line of phone numbers. The font was simple and bold.
"Okay," she said.
"Then I won't disturb you any further today," Satoru Gojo stood up and bowed again to Genji. "Lord Zen'in Genji, it was an honor to meet you. If you're interested, you're always welcome to visit the college—I think many people would want to see you."
"If I have the chance," Genji replied calmly.
"See you next week," Satoru Gojo waved his hand toward Eriri and nodded to Sayuri. "Mrs. Sawamura, thank you for your hospitality. The cookies were delicious."
"I'll see you out," Sayuri stood up.
"No, no, I can see myself out," Satoru Gojo waved his hand, walked to the entrance, and changed his shoes.
The door closed. The engine started, and the black car slowly drove out of the yard.
Silence fell over the living room again.
Sayuri stood at the entrance for a long time before turning and returning to the living room. She looked at Genji, still floating there, and seemed to want to speak.
"Mrs. Sawamura," Genji spoke first, his voice soft, "whatever you want to ask, just ask."
Sayuri took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa, folding her hands on her knees. Her posture remained elegant, but her eyes were sharp.
"Lord Zen'in Genji," she said in a serious tone, "you… who are you? No, I should say, what exactly are you?"
The question was direct.
Genji floated to the single sofa across from her—though still hovering, at least he "sat." He placed his hands on his knees and sat up straight, like a junior being questioned by an elder.
"This one is Zen'in Genji, a sorcerer from the Heian period. The successor of the Ten Shadows Technique," he calmly introduced himself. "For various reasons, I transformed myself into a shikigami and sank into the shadow realm to await a summons. A thousand years later, I accidentally possessed Eriri."
He paused and added, "As for what I 'am'… you can think of me as a ghost who shouldn't have appeared in this era. Or a lost traveler."
"A traveler…" Sayuri repeated the word, her eyes becoming complex. "Then… how long do you plan to 'stay' here?"
The question was very realistic.
Genji was silent. He looked at Eriri, and a very faint, elusive emotion flickered in his deep indigo eyes.
"I don't know," he said calmly. "Perhaps I will leave soon. Perhaps… I will stay for a long time. It depends on many factors."
"Including Eriri's safety?" Sayuri asked.
"Including that," Genji nodded. "I won't leave until she has mastered the ability to protect herself."
That was a solemn promise. Sayuri looked at him for a long time, then nodded slightly.
"I see," she said, standing up and bowing to Genji—the Japanese etiquette, solemn and elegant.
"Then, Lord Zen'in Genji, I entrust Eriri to you. She… sometimes she is very strong-willed and stubborn, but her heart is very soft. Please take care of her."
Genji also stood up and solemnly returned the bow.
"It is my duty."
Sayuri smiled. This time, the smile finally held genuine relief. She turned to Eriri and stroked her daughter's hair.
"Go wash your hands and get ready for dinner. I made your favorite hamburger steak today."
"Okay!" Eriri nodded vigorously, her eyes slightly moist again.
She turned and went upstairs. Genji floated beside her. When she reached the second-floor staircase, Eriri suddenly stopped and turned to look at him.
"Hey, Zen'in Genji."
"Hmm?"
"You just said… you won't leave until I can protect myself," she asked quietly, looking at the wooden floor beneath her feet. "What if… I can't learn it?"
A typical tsundere worry. But Genji understood.
He floated in front of her, his deep indigo eyes so clear in the dim hallway light that they seemed to reflect a person's heart.
"Then I'll keep teaching you," he said, his voice very soft, but each word terribly clear. "Until you learn. One year, ten years, a hundred years… I have time."
Eriri stared at him blankly. After a long time, she turned her head away, the roots of her ears slightly red.
"W-Who wants you to teach for that long… I'll learn it quickly!"
She hurried into her room, her golden twin tails leaving bright trails behind her.
Genji floated in place, watching her back, the corners of his lips lifting in a very faint, almost invisible arc.
Then he turned and floated toward the study.
---
The black Bentley sedan glided smoothly through the night streets of Tokyo. The city lights outside the window flowed like a galaxy—neon signs, office building windows, and the taillights of traffic intertwined into a bustling yet cold nocturnal pattern. The car interior was quiet, only the soft hum of the engine and the faint breeze from the air conditioning vents.
Kiyotaka Ijichi gripped the steering wheel tightly, his fingers slightly white from the pressure. He glanced in the rearview mirror, carefully looking at Satoru Gojo sitting in the back. The "strongest of our time" was leaning back in the seat, propping his chin with one hand, the corners of his mouth beneath the black blindfold holding a smile. In his other hand, he held half a cookie from the Sawamura house—he had naturally pocketed it before leaving.
Silence lingered in the car for several minutes.
Finally, Ijichi couldn't hold back. He cleared his throat, his voice a little dry:
"Mr. Gojo… that adult, is he really… awake?"
His voice was very soft, trembling with disbelief, as if afraid of disturbing something.
Satoru Gojo took a bite of the cookie. The crunch was especially clear in the quiet car. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and nodded.
"Yes, really," his voice was calm, as if he were saying, "The moon is full tonight." "Lord Zen'in Genji, the God of Curses of the Heian period, is now possessing a high school girl named Eriri Sawamura. I just saw him with my own eyes."
Ijichi's breathing audibly hitched. The steering wheel trembled slightly in his hands, and the car drifted a little out of its lane, but he quickly corrected it.
"You… you spoke with him?" Ijichi's voice carried a strong emotion.
Then Ijichi made a move that made Satoru Gojo raise his eyebrows.
This assistant supervisor, always dressed in a neat suit, with thin glasses and a serious expression like a bank clerk, suddenly slapped his own thigh with one hand, letting out a muffled smack. His face turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye, and his eyes behind his glasses were full of regret and a certain… feeling of a fan missing out on a chance to meet their idol?
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