The alarm rang at 4:45 in the morning, cutting through the darkness like a thin blade.
My heart was pounding in my chest: it wasn't just the anxiety of traveling, but the weight of expectations. That day, I wasn't just going to take a plane: I was going to start a new life.
I stood up slowly, my bare feet touching the cold floor. From the window I could only see a still sleeping Rome. The sky was just starting to lighten, turning a pale blue.I went to the bathroom, washed my face with cold water, trying to wake up completely, then arranged my long brown hair in a loose braid.
My face, reflected in the mirror, looked more mature, more determined. 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 wardrobe with a deep breath. I chose a comfortable beige tracksuit, with an oversized jacket, perfect for facing the hours of flight. I put on white sneakers, loaded with small blessed talismans - you never knew, even on planes you could need protection.
A little later, around 6:10, I got into the taxi with my black suitcase, hard, light but full of everything that could remind me of home. A small lucky charm given to me by my grandmother, an old photograph of my parents smiling, a book on the theory of ancient curses that I would read on the flight.
The taxi sped through the almost empty streets of the city, taking me straight to Fiumicino – Leonardo da Vinci International Airport. Thirty minutes later, I was already in front of my gate, ready to board. The direct flight to Tokyo Narita left at 7:15 in the morning and would last almost thirteen hours.
As soon as I sat down in my seat, near the window, I took out of my bag a pair of earphones, a sleep mask, a notebook to write down my thoughts... and above all the note signed by the principal Viviani himself:
"You have talent, Rebecca. But now you have to learn to use it among the highest waves. Gojo Satoru is waiting for you. Be worthy."
The plane took off with a gentle vibration, and with it everything I knew seemed to slip away. Rome became smaller and smaller, until it disappeared into the clouds.
During the trip, I alternated moments of reading and long gazes at the sky beyond the porthole. I slept little, and ate only something hot served on board – a plate of rice with vegetables and a warm green tea. My thoughts chased each other: "What will this Gojo Satoru be like in person? How will the boys react knowing that I will be entering directly into the second year? Will I be okay?"
My heart would skip a beat every now and then. I had learned to keep my emotions in check, but this time it was different. It was all real. It was all imminent.
When the commander announced the landing, my stomach tightened. Tokyo appeared below me, immense, orderly, bright. Japan welcomed me.
And I was ready.
The flight from Fiumicino to Tokyo had lasted almost thirteen hours, yet I wasn't tired. I was tense. Waiting.
I knew that waiting for me on the other side of the glass, in the international arrivals area, was him. The legendary Gojo Satoru.
As soon as I crossed the corridor with my suitcase dragging behind me, I saw him. It was impossible not to see him.
Very tall. Very long.
Six feet four inches of lightness and power, dressed in a black turtleneck and matching pants, dark sunglasses despite being indoors. His messy white hair stuck out like a silver crown from his head, while his smile was that of someone who knew he was the strongest in the room... but also the most irritating.
He raised a hand and waved it like an old friend who has been waiting for you for hours.
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His voice was bright, cheerful and strangely... reassuring.
I stopped. Dazed.
Not just from the jet lag, but from the effect of seeing him in person. Gojo Satoru. The most powerful sorcerer in existence. The reason I was there.
<
I approached, pulling the suitcase with one hand while clutching the passport with the other.
<< I... am Rebecca. Thank you for coming.>> I said, in my less than perfect Japanese.
He leaned slightly towards me, lowering his glasses just a little, allowing me to glimpse his ice blue eyes. They were so clear, so magnetic... it almost seemed like they could see inside.
<< I already know everything about you. Principal Viviani is a demanding guy. If he chose you, it means you know what you're doing. But come now, I'll take you to the institute. You have a presentation 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 driver was waiting for us in a black sedan. Gojo made himself comfortable in the back seat, legs crossed, arms behind his head. I stared at the panorama passing by the window with my heart in my throat.
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I nodded. <>
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After an hour of traveling, we finally reached the Tokyo Institute of Occult Arts. A huge complex between modernity and tradition, surrounded by greenery, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. The cherry trees, even if out of season, were swaying lightly. The gate slowly opened, letting us pass.
We got out of the car. Gojo stopped and pointed to the central building.
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I turned to him, then to the school.
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I fixed my hair, slung my shoulder bag over, and took a deep breath.
It was all real..
And it was starting right then.