Jujutsu High, the Forbidden Vault.
The heavy stone door slowly closed behind Kashimo with a low, muffled rumble. He stood at the entrance, his gaze sweeping past rows of display shelves and over the cursed tools sealed inside glass cases: katanas, daggers, spears, gauntlets. Each lay quietly in place, like a museum exhibit waiting to be admired. His gaze lingered on none of them as he walked straight inside.
"You can't, Mr. Kashimo!"
Hurried footsteps came from behind him. The Forbidden Vault's administrator jogged after him, a thick register clutched in his arms, his expression suggesting he had just witnessed some outrageous act of sacrilege.
"You can't simply take cursed tools without approval from Jujutsu Headquarters!"
The administrator circled in front of him and blocked his path, babbling incessantly. It was the same handful of phrases over and over-"regulations," "procedure," "approval required"-like a recorder programmed to repeat itself. Every word carried the peculiar stubbornness and fear of a bureaucracy.
Kashimo tilted his head to look at him. His blue eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze swept over the administrator's face, which practically begged, Please don't make this difficult for me. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say something but decided it would be a waste of breath.
"Huh?" He gave a short grunt, his tone rising at the end. "Then tell those old bastards I'm requisitioning one."
His tone was flat, but every word landed heavily, leaving no room for argument. The administrator opened his mouth and let out a vague "Uh..." His fingers tightened again and again around the register's cover until his knuckles turned white.
"Well... you need to submit the application yourself..." His voice grew quieter and quieter, until he was almost muttering to himself. His eyes drifted toward the floor, no