December, 1989.
Deep in the mountains of Tokyo's western suburbs.
A stone path winds up the mountain, flanked by towering cedars and bamboo forests. Only after several turns does the dark wooden gate come into view.
There are no flashy signs outside, only the family crest and silent guards.
On standard maps, this estate is merely marked as a "Historic Conservation Forest." Those who truly know what it is understand that one of the oldest names in the Jujutsu world resides here—for centuries, the balance of power has largely depended on this surname.
Today, this usually quiet and reserved estate is more crowded than usual, yet more silent than ever.
Sorcerers standing under the eaves do not engage in idle talk. Those responsible for the barrier check the talismans repeatedly. Even the maid who usually smiles at you only offers a hurried bow.
There is no sadness here.
In everyone's eyes, there is a hidden emotion that cannot be fully contained—the child this family has waited centuries for has finally been born today.
You are six years old.
You don't yet know how many years you will spend in this estate, accompanying him.
You don't know who those eyes, destined to be looked up to by all, will look at first when they open.
Everything has yet to happen.
Everything is still in time to become your own story.
