Tokyo Jujutsu High.
The car was parked in front of a staircase lined with a series of red Torii gates, leading upwards and standing strikingly amidst lush green trees.
Two men stood at the entrance to the first Torii gate—one with black spiky hair, seemingly in his late twenties to early thirties, stood with a stern expression, his bulky body stretching his black suit. The other, with white hair and a wrinkled face, leaned on his cane with a warm smile.
"You must be Gojo Satoru?" the old man asked, still smiling warmly as he stared at Satoru.
"Hmm," Satoru nodded, scanning the old man from head to toe. He smiled, "You must be Ren Yamamoto, the principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High."
"Yes, I'm Yamamoto, principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High," Yamamoto said, gesturing to the bulky man beside him. "And this is Yaga Masamichi—he'll be your teacher and instructor."
After the introduction, Yamamoto turned to Masamichi. With a warm smile, he said, "You should take Gojo to the class. Don't make the other students wait."
Masamichi nodded and turned to Satoru. "Let's go."
Satoru gave a nod, following Masamichi as he ascended the stairs. After stepping on the first step, Satoru turned and stared at the driver. "Tell the clan head and those elders I'll be staying in the Jujutsu High dormitory."
"Young—" The driver's words caught in his throat as he watched Satoru walk away.
Yamamoto stared at the driver. "Don't worry, he'll be safe here."
The driver's eyes flickered, but he nodded and entered the car, driving off.
...
As Satoru stepped onto the last stair, he stopped. His blindfolded eyes curiously observed the golden translucent barrier covering the entire Tokyo Jujutsu High grounds like an inverted bowl.
Is this Tengen's barrier? Satoru thought, slightly lowering his blindfold. His azure-blue eyes stared at the barrier with curiosity.
"You can admire the school grounds later. Your classmates are waiting for class—let's go," Masamichi's stern voice interrupted Satoru's thoughts.
"Okay," Satoru nodded, readjusting his blindfold as he entered the school grounds. Passing through the golden barrier felt like walking through water.
Masamichi led Satoru through the empty school grounds—it was still morning; other sorcerers were either training outside or in class. They finally stopped before a fusuma door. Masamichi slid it open and stepped inside, Satoru close behind.
"I'm sorry for the delay; I went to bring your new classmate," Masamichi apologized to the two waiting students. He turned to Satoru.
Taking the cue, Satoru stepped forward. With a smile, he introduced himself, "I'm Gojo Satoru, a special-grade sorcerer. Please take care of me."
After his introduction, Satoru curiously studied his classmates—a boy and a girl.
The boy had black hair partially tied in a man bun, with a slightly curly bang. He wore Tokyo Jujutsu High's all-black uniform. The girl had short, slightly messy brown hair and heavy-lidded dark eyes, seeming near sleep. She wore the same black uniform.
While Satoru observed them, the two stared back in shock. Though clanless sorcerers, they knew of the era's genius—Gojo Satoru, a teenager already ranked special grade!
"Ah, hi! I'm Shoko Ieiri, a third-grade sorcerer," Shoko said, snapping out of her daze first.
The boy offered a casual wave. "I'm Suguru Geto, a second-grade sorcerer."
Masamichi, silent until now, spoke. "Enough introductions. Suguru, Shoko, Satoru—let's go."
"Eh?" Shoko blinked, surprised.
"There's a report of a semi-first-grade curse at a hospital. We'll handle it," Masamichi stated, already stepping out.
"Is he always this aloof?" Satoru asked with a wry smile—he hadn't even gotten a school tour.
"You'll get used to it," Suguru said, patting Satoru's shoulder. He turned to Shoko, "Come on, let's not get shouted at again."
"Okay, okay," Shoko muttered, standing and walking out.
"Come on. If we're late, Masamichi-sensei will give us an earful," Suguru smiled at Satoru before leaving.
Watching Suguru's back, Satoru's eyes flickered slightly as he followed.
...
The hospital—the mission site—was only a thirty-minute drive from the school.
After exiting the car, the three first-years stared at the dilapidated hospital. To non-sorcerers, it would merely feel chilly, but to them, thin purple mist drifting from its crevices was vividly visible.
"Is this really a semi-first-grade curse?" Suguru muttered, feeling oppressive energy. Beside him, Shoko pursed her lips.
Masamichi approached a man at the hospital gate.
"Mission details?"
"It's a cursed spirit with unusual abilities. We sent three people inside—all reported sudden body swelling before we lost contact," the man said, handing Masamichi a file.
After reading, Masamichi frowned. "Are you certain it's only semi-first-grade?" Even he felt slight pressure.
"Yes," the man confirmed. "Only third-grade sorcerers were sent previously—no second or first-grades. But observe: have you ever seen a first-grade or special-grade curse this weak?"
Masamichi studied the hospital. Though oppressive, its cursed energy didn't match higher grades.
"My students and I will handle this. You may retreat," Masamichi said.
The man sighed in relief, bowed, and left.
Masamichi stared at the hospital, a faint foreboding rising. He shook his head. Must be my imagination.
Turning to the students, he commanded:
"Let's go!"