Chapter Text
May 1, 2017, 05:00 AM – Tokyo Airport
Tokyo Airport greets me with spring light filtering through the large windows. I remember visiting Tokyo years ago, but like all memories from that period, they are blurred. I let that remembrance slip from my mind and position myself in front of the luggage carousel: one hand in my pocket, the other checking my phone.
With the corner of my eye, I watch the suitcases pass on the belt while I continue reading the directions to reach the school; if you don't know the exact location, you can't access it.
My bag arrives: compact and simple, but containing everything I truly need. I hoist it onto my shoulders and head for the exit. The checks are fast enough. I have nothing to declare—just uniforms, cassette tapes, and books.
I make my way to the train and board the carriage. Once my bag is stowed in the overhead rack, I take my seat, pull my tablet from my backpack, and review the information Masamichi-san gave me about the students. I don't want to overlook anything important; the better I understand them, the more I can help them.
The first student is Maki Zen’in
禪院真希(16 years old):
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Grade: 1st-year student
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Technique: No evident innate cursed technique; excellent physical ability
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Personality: Determined, proud, stubborn, reserved
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Observations: Tends to undervalue her own abilities; conflict with her clan
I rest my chin between my thumb and index finger and reflect. The name Zen’in and no evident innate technique are not words that usually go together in the same sentence. Surely, this girl's determination stems exactly from that.
I make some mental notes: if she is proud and stubborn, she certainly learns more through action than theory. I’ll need to focus on practical instruction. Fortunately, Katsumi taught me well in the use of weapons; otherwise, I would be completely useless to this girl.
I move on to the second file: Toge Inumaki
狗巻棘(16 years old)
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Grade: 1st-year student
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Technique: Cursed Speech (communication limits for safety)
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Personality: Introverted, calm, sensitive, very attentive to context
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Observations: Needs non-verbal signal interpretation; avoid forced communication
I tap my thumb against my jawline as I read. His personality is a double-edged sword: he is sensitive enough to understand others, but with the barrier of Cursed Speech, he might feel inadequate if his companions fail to understand him. Here, the work won't just be on non-verbal communication, but on group dynamics.
The penultimate file: Panda
パンダ(16 years old, artificial entity/sorcerer)
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Grade: 1st-year student
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Technique: Notable physical adaptation and endurance; excellent tactical support
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Personality: Sociable, empathetic, cooperative
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Observations: Stabilizing role within the group; implicit point of reference
A hint of a smile plays on my lips as my hand slides over the file. I massage my jawline and reflect: perfect for the non-verbal communication we need to establish. However, if he views himself only as tactical support, he might feel inferior to his peers; there’s work to be done there.
Finally, Yuta Okkotsu
乙骨憂太(16 years old, assigned for initial observation)
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Grade: 1st-year student (transfer from Kyoto)
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Technique: Immense cursed energy, unstable
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Personality: Sensitive, reflective, motivated to protect others
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Observations: Requires constant supervision; risk of emotional overload
I zoom in on Okkotsu’s photograph. I recognize him: he’s the boy who was initially considered dangerous and marked for execution. I smile when I read motivated to protect others and murmur to myself, “Very good.” He was introduced to the jujutsu world through a traumatic event; I’ll have to be very careful to ensure he doesn't grow up thinking he’s a ticking time bomb.
On the final pages, there are operational notes for Kikyo Yamaoka. I turn off the screen without even reading them. It is not my intention to train "weapons"—to make them more effective and less thoughtful. If these kids grow up with that idea, they will never be people; they will be objects.
I watch the landscape from the train window, resting my elbow on the armrest and leaning my face against my hand. It is different from Kyoto, yet it possesses the same beauty. I feel a mix of nostalgia and anger toward the city of Kyoto: despite everything, it was my home for 27 years, yet I never truly felt it was mine.
The gentle swaying of the carriage soothes my thoughts. Masamichi-san allowed me to become a sensei at his school; it couldn’t have been an easy choice. In Kyoto, it would have been impossible to take on such a role. Gakuganji would never have taken such a risk.