13th January, 2003.

It's the second Monday.

The palace adorned in flowers. Liles and daisies, roses and jasmines. Birds were singing, butterflies were running. Quiet, immediate footsteps on the grass. A hushed atmosphere among the elders.

Even though, the whole orchestra for the person, was dull and unamused in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Pride of the Gojo clan.

Respected members from Kamo, Zenin, and others came, to witness this historic moment of the wonder boy of sorcery's coming of age ceremony. Perhaps for curiousity, or solely to keep their image. It was not important.

You, a low grade sorcerer from the Zenin clan, solely positioned to carry heavy cursed tools, were somehow in this ceremony. You watched as the strongest sorcerer of history, was watching others be busy around him, like a flock of sheeps. That's what they were, anyway.

Satoru huffed as he was told to get up, wearing a traditional kimono as he started for the ceremony.