A/N: Yes, it's canon. The school is canonically Mahoutokoro (Mahōtokoro), located on Minami Iwo Jima ("South Sulfur Island").
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Near Tokyo,
The Magic Institute—known in local tongues as Mahoutokoro—stands on Minami Iwo Jima (South Sulfur Island), one of the volcanic islands in the chain.
Like all magical schools, it is protected by strict Anti-Apparition wards.
For historical reasons, these wards are even more rigorous here.
There was once a period when the country was in lockdown, and foreigners were barred from entering.
Though that era has passed, the wizards carried the mindset forward. Local wizards still harbor a strong hostility toward outsiders.
The magical world is, after all, merely a small reflection of the Muggle one.
They couldn't Apparate directly to South Sulfur Island. An air force base sat nearby, and no ships were permitted to approach.
"So how are we supposed to get there?" Gus asked.
Musashi looked up at the sky and said, "Young wizards of the Magic Institute travel there by riding giant seagulls. We can follow them in."
The Magic Institute differs from Hogwarts. It begins enrolling wizards at age seven, with boarding starting at eleven.
Before that, children under eleven ride giant seagulls to school.
They waited at a place called Kisaragi Station. Few people ever came here, and Muggles often spoke of 'spirited away' incidents. In truth, it was simply the departure point for wizards heading to the Institute.
As the three waited, mist gradually drifted through the area.
Then, from within the fog, came the sound of wings flapping.
A moment later, a massive shadow appeared.
"Gus, stay here."
John stood up and said it. Gus was about to protest, but John took a money pouch from his small bag and tossed it over.
After catching it, Gus immediately promised he'd behave and stay put.
Musashi glanced at Gus. Gus hugged the pouch and said, "Just to be clear, this is from the boss to me alone. It's not part of our contract."
But he was overthinking it. Musashi simply said calmly, "You'd better hide. Sometimes Aurors come by here too. You entered illegally."
Gus looked around. Aside from the station, there was nothing but open land.
Where was he supposed to hide?
Children's voices drifted out of the mist, growing closer.
John tapped his head with his wand, and the Disillusionment Charm concealed him.
Musashi did the same, hiding himself as well.
The two walked into the fog, the clear voices of children waving goodbye to the giant seagull ringing in the air.
Just as the seagull was about to take off, Musashi quickly leapt onto its back.
The giant seagull took flight, and the mist around them was actually caused by its breathing.
Hmm.. This kind of magical creature is perfect for transportation. The vapor it exhales turns into a concealing white mist.
John sat on the back of the giant seagull. It wasn't as massive as a dragon, but it was far from small.
With two people on its back, the giant seagull didn't even seem to notice.
Musashi said with a nostalgic look, "I used to ride giant seagulls to school too."
"Shame it doesn't seem as comfortable as a train," John said lightly.
Musashi neither agreed nor disagreed. The Hogwarts Express and the Magic Institute's giant seagulls each had their own merits.
Crossing the sea, the giant seagull passed over an air force training base.
Below, planes were parked and Muggles patrolled the area.
Beyond that point lay South Sulfur Island, home to the Magic Institute.
At the highest point of the island stood a palace built atop a volcano.
The palace was entirely white, its exterior resembling a magnificent and delicate pagoda.
The giant seagull landed on a platform where several others were already resting.
Under the cover of mist, the two slipped down to the side of the platform.
Inside the Magic Institute, they could see younger students dressed in pink. Older students' uniforms showed changes in color, and a few wore gold.
The palace was built from fine white jade, radiating an Eastern aesthetic completely different from that of the West.
When night fell, and the students had all left,
John stepped inside. Musashi remained where he was, still staring at his alma mater in a daze.
It wasn't until John reminded him that he snapped out of it.
Carrying complicated emotions, Musashi walked into the Magic Institute.
"I want to ask you something, Lord Silverhand," Musashi said as he walked beside John, his tone probing. "Why did you come to the Magic Institute?"
"For the study of magic," John replied calmly. "You always need to learn from the strengths of many."
John added casually, "Emotions.. I want to understand the Ancient magic of Love, the magic that can even counter the Killing curse. This school's magic may not necessarily be stronger than Hogwarts, but they possess far more ancient spells when it comes to emotions."
Stopping openly in front of the Magic Institute's main gate, John looked up.
Like an old-fashioned plaque, the name of the Institute was carved upon it.
He watched it for a moment, then stepped inside.
The instant his foot crossed the threshold, the Disillusionment Charm on him was dispelled.
This place was protected by magic similar to anti-intrusion wards, breaking any hiding spell.
At that very moment, his presence was detected by the Institute's staff.
John had already anticipated this, which was why he was wearing a mask.
The teachers of the Magic Institute did not take long to appear.
Here, however, they were called mentors.
The moment the mentors arrived, their eyes went first to the man beside John. A female mentor with long, straight black hair changed expression.
"Musashi?"
She stared in disbelief at the man who had stepped back into the Magic Institute, hidden emotions flickering in her eyes.
When Musashi saw her, his expression turned complicated. He let out a relieved smile. "So you became a mentor, Shizuka."
Shizuka clearly wanted to say something to him.
At that moment, an elderly man stepped forward. He had a scarred bald head and a white beard that reached his stomach, tied neatly with a purple ribbon.
"Akino Musashi?" the old man asked, coughing twice before he spoke.
Seeing him, a trace of fear flashed in Musashi's eyes. He lowered his head respectfully. "Headmaster."
The old man looked just as aged as Dumbledore, though Dumbledore seemed far more vigorous by comparison.
This one looked as though he might keel over at any moment.
John studied the old man, then glanced at the scar on his forehead.
Six mentors had appeared in total. At that point, John finally spoke.
"I've come for a magical exchange." His gaze swept over the mentors as he smiled lightly. "Please forgive my unannounced visit."
"Who are you?" A thin-faced mentor looked at John with a sinister expression, questioning him in heavily accented English.
"You may call me Silverhand, Johnny Silverhand," John said calmly. "I can offer compensation."
The headmaster raised a hand, stopping the mentor from speaking further. His cloudy eyes turned to John. "Johnny Silverhand. I've heard your name."
"Oh?" John said with a smile. "I thought your magical society had been closed off for years and wouldn't know who I am."
"Of course we do," the headmaster replied with a smile. "Your deeds have spread throughout Europe. Even with limited information, we have caught glimpses of them."
"Our empire admires strength. Your ideals happen to align well with our own."
The headmaster looked at John and said, "Lord Silverhand, coming to Mahoutokoro at a time like this hardly seems like a simple visit."
"Research in magic has never really distinguished between day and night."
John gave a calm smile. "As for me, nothing has changed. I'm willing to pay. I only hope to enter the Magic Institute and consult some of your texts."
The headmaster studied John, weighing the meaning behind his words.
At the same time, he was calculating the gap in strength between them.
The Magic Institute was currently in session. Setting the students aside, there were six mentors present.
Johnny Silverhand's reputation in the European magical world rivaled that of Grindelwald and Voldemort.
Making an enemy of someone like that was not a wise choice.
Not to mention, the friendship of the Second King was also something of great value.
After a moment of thought, the headmaster laughed warmly. "Isn't it a joy when friends come from afar? Since Lord Silverhand has traveled all the way from the West, the Magic Institute naturally must show proper courtesy."
He gestured for the mentors to withdraw, his gaze briefly and subtly passing over Musashi as he invited John inside.
John entered the Magic Institute, with the headmaster personally leading the way.
As they reached the central courtyard, the headmaster suddenly said, "Musashi, you bear the mark of a sinner. You are not fit to enter this sacred place."
Hearing that, Musashi stopped at once. He said quietly, "I understand, Headmaster."
The headmaster nodded. John continued walking behind him without changing expression.
Musashi remained where he was, looking around with a hint of melancholy.
The place was vast, and the paths were long.
As they walked, John struck up casual conversation.
"Speaking of which, the relationship between your country's wizards and the Muggle world seems quite different from that in the West," he said lightly. "In ancient times, you were known as onmyōji, serving the rulers of the nation."
"That is correct," the headmaster said proudly, stroking his beard. "Our imperial line is ancient, a divine bloodline unbroken through the ages. Their heritage is noble, unmatched anywhere in the world."
John glanced at the old man. When it came to the Muggle sovereign, he showed absolute reverence.
Long ago, the wizards of Japan had stood in a clear superior-subordinate relationship with their rulers, and even now, traces of that hierarchy still lingered.
Their Ministry of Magic also maintained certain ties with the so-called royal family.
Those ties, however, had begun to fade in modern times.
The influence of the imperial house was steadily declining, and many wizards no longer treated them with the same deference they once did.
The rise of weapons had made onmyōji far less indispensable.
Yet this old man still seemed determined to uphold that old hierarchy.
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