The alarm rang at 4:45 a.m., slicing through the darkness like a thin blade.My heart was pounding in my chest—not just from travel anxiety, but from the weight of expectations.
That day, I wasn't just catching a flight.I was starting a new life.
I got up slowly, my bare feet brushing against the cold floor. From the window, all I could see was a sleeping Rome. The sky was just beginning to lighten, tinged with a pale blue.
I went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face trying to fully wake up, then tied my long brown hair into a soft braid. My reflection in the mirror looked more mature, more resolute.
I was no longer just a student at the European Institute for Special-Level Sorcerers.
I was the headmaster's chosen one.
I opened the closet with a deep breath. I picked a comfortable beige tracksuit and an oversized jacket—perfect for hours of flying. I slipped on my white sneakers, loaded with small blessed talismans—you never knew when protection might come in handy, even on planes.
A little after 6:10 a.m., I got into the taxi with my black suitcase—sturdy, lightweight, but filled with everything that reminded me of home. A small good-luck charm from my grandmother, an old photo of my smiling parents, and a book on ancient curse theory I planned to read on the plane.
The taxi sped through the nearly empty streets of the city, taking me straight to Fiumicino—Leonardo da Vinci International Airport. Thirty minutes later, I was already at my gate, ready to board. The direct flight to Tokyo Narita departed at 7:15 a.m. and would last almost thirteen hours.
As soon as I sat down by the window, I pulled from my bag a pair of earbuds, a sleep mask, a notebook for jotting down thoughts… and most importantly, the letter signed by Headmaster Viviani himself:
"You have talent, Rebecca. But now you must learn to use it among the highest waves. Gojo Satoru awaits you. Be worthy."
The plane took off with a gentle vibration, and with it, everything I knew seemed to slip away. Rome grew smaller and smaller, until it vanished into the clouds.
During the flight, I alternated between reading and long stares out the window at the sky. I slept little, ate only a bit of the hot meal served onboard—a plate of rice with vegetables and a warm green tea.
My thoughts kept spinning:"What will this Gojo Satoru be like in person? How will the others react when they find out I'm joining directly in the second year? Will I fit in?"
My heart would leap now and then. I had learned to keep my emotions in check, but this time was different.This was real.It was all about to happen.
When the captain announced our descent, my stomach tightened. Tokyo appeared below—immense, orderly, glowing. Japan was welcoming me.
And I was ready.
***
---"The Arrival of the New Student"---
The flight from Fiumicino to Tokyo had lasted almost thirteen hours, yet I wasn't tired. I was tense. Expectant.
I knew that on the other side of the glass wall, in the international arrivals zone, he would be waiting for me. The legendary Gojo Satoru.
As soon as I stepped into the corridor, pulling my suitcase behind me, I saw him. He was impossible to miss.
Tall. Towering.
Well over six feet of grace and power, dressed in a black turtleneck and matching pants, dark sunglasses despite being indoors.
His messy white hair looked like a silver crown atop his head, and his smile—his smile was that of someone who knew he was the strongest in the room...
…but also the most annoying.
He raised a hand and waved like an old friend who'd been waiting for hours.
"Yo, Rebecca-chan! Welcome to the land of sushi and curses!"
His voice was bright, cheerful, and strangely… comforting.
I froze. Stunned.
Not just from jet lag, but from the effect of seeing him in person.Gojo Satoru. The most powerful sorcerer alive.The reason I was here.
"Good grief… how tall is he?" I whispered to myself. He smiled. He must've heard me anyway, even if he didn't understand Italian.
I approached, pulling my suitcase with one hand and gripping my passport with the other.
"I… I'm Rebecca. Thank you for coming," I said, in my not-so-perfect Japanese.
He leaned down slightly, lowering his sunglasses just enough to let me see his ice-blue eyes. They were so light, so magnetic… it felt like they could see right through me.
"I already know all about you. Headmaster Viviani is a demanding man… if he chose you, it means you've got the skills. But now come on, I'll take you to the institute. You've got an introduction to give and a team to meet."
We left the airport together. The Tokyo sky was gray, but the air was crisp and full of unfamiliar voices. A chauffeur awaited us in a black sedan. Gojo made himself comfortable in the back seat—legs crossed, arms behind his head. I stared out the window, heart in my throat, watching the scenery pass by.
"Nervous?"
I nodded. "A little."
"Don't worry. They're nice. A little crazy, but nice," he said with a grin.
After an hour's drive, we finally reached the Tokyo Institute of Occult Arts. A massive complex blending modernity and tradition, nestled in greenery, far from the chaos of the city.
The cherry trees, though out of season, swayed gently. The gate opened slowly, letting us through.
We got out of the car. Gojo stopped and pointed to the main building.
"Ready to introduce yourself?"
I looked at him, then at the school.
"More or less…"
"Perfect!" he laughed. "That means you're just like everyone else on their first day."
I fixed my hair, slung my bag over my shoulder, and took a deep breath.
It was all real…
And it was starting right now.