The afternoon sun bathed the Jujutsu School in a warm, golden light. Hiro stood near the entrance, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if waiting for a sign. As the group returned, a mixture of relief and anticipation filled the air.
Hiro approached them, curiosity etched on his face. "Where's Gojo?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of urgency.
Maki stepped forward, her expression a blend of fatigue and resolve. "He's probably going to come through the main gate, the one under Kenjaku's control. So, he should be back soon," she explained, her words measured and careful.
Hiro's brow furrowed in confusion. The mention of names like Gojo and Kenjaku still felt foreign to him, fragments of a life he was struggling to piece together.
Seeing his perplexed look, Maki placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'll explain everything later," she said softly, understanding the turmoil that lay beneath his stoic exterior.
Hiro nodded, though the gesture did little to ease the sense of dislocation he felt. As he watched the group disperse, each member lost in their thoughts, Hiro couldn't help but feel like an outsider looking in. The school, once a place of belonging, now seemed like a puzzle with one piece missing - himself.
He leaned against the wall, his eyes tracing the path that led to the main gate. The waiting game was torturous, a reminder of the gaps in his memory and the life he once led. Each minute stretched on, the anticipation building like a crescendo in a symphony he had yet to understand fully.
Hiro remained standing there, his gaze fixed on the vibrant hues of the sunset. The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by the arrival of a man with striking white hair and piercing blue eyes, who entered with a carefree smile on his face. It was Gojo.
"Hello, Hiro. Long time no see," Gojo greeted, his voice filled with a light-heartedness that seemed at odds with the gravity of recent events.
Hiro tilted his head, studying the man before him. There was a sense of familiarity, yet his memories remained frustratingly out of reach.
Gojo's six eyes studied Hiro intently, quickly discerning the situation. "You don't remember your gorgeous teacher?" he asked with a hint of playfulness in his tone.
A flicker of recognition sparked in Hiro's eyes. "You're Gojo sensei?" he asked, a mixture of surprise and relief in his voice.
Gojo nodded, his smile undimmed. "I can see you've been through a lot. But don't worry, leave the rest to me. Once I'm done dealing with Sukuna, I'll find a way to bring your memories back," he reassured confidently.
The promise brought a small measure of comfort to Hiro. Even though he felt lost in a sea of forgotten faces and events, Gojo's presence and words provided a beacon of hope. The sense that, despite the chaos and uncertainty, things might eventually fall into place again.
As Gojo moved past Hiro, heading into the heart of the school, Hiro couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. Perhaps, with Gojo's return, the pieces of his fragmented past would slowly start to come together, revealing the full picture of the life he once knew and the person he was meant to be.
Gojo's words carried a weight that seemed to resonate with Hiro, even though his memories remained obscured. There was a sense of anticipation in the air as Gojo mentioned his newfound insight into Hiro's cursed technique.
"Hiro, there's something I want to show you. While I was sealed, I had a lot of time to think," Gojo began, his voice tinged with amusement. "It's about your cursed technique. I think I've discovered something quite interesting. Though, knowing you, you've probably already mastered some more useful moves than what I'm about to teach you."
Hiro's response was laced with his characteristic confidence, a trait that seemed to have endured despite his memory loss. "Well, I'm sure I have, I'm amazing after all. But I'm still interested in learning anything that could help," he said with a smirk.
Gojo nodded, his hand gently patting Hiro's head in a gesture that seemed both playful and reassuring. "I'll show you once I've taken care of some unfinished business. For now, focus on finding out who you are. Although, deep down, you already know," he advised, his eyes revealing a depth of understanding and belief in Hiro's inherent strength and identity.
As Gojo walked away to attend to his responsibilities, Hiro was left with a renewed sense of purpose. Even with the gaps in his memory, he felt a connection to his past self and a determination to rediscover his place in the world. Gojo's faith in him served as a reminder of the resilience and capabilities that defined Hiro, regardless of the challenges he faced.
Hiro's expression shifted, reflecting a mix of uncertainty and contemplation. "Who am I?" he whispered to himself, his thoughts echoing the question that had been haunting him since he lost his memories. Wandering aimlessly through the school, his path led him to an encounter with a man he hadn't seen before.
"Who are you?" Hiro asked curiously.
The man, Naoya, wore a smirk that betrayed his amusement. "So it's true, you've lost your memory. I'm Naoya, your boss," he declared with a hint of mockery.
Hiro's face twisted into a look of disbelief. "Ah, I see. Naoya, Maki mentioned you were the perverted idiot who just lazes around," he retorted.
Naoya's expression quickly turned to irritation. "That woman is an idiot," he grumbled.
"Show some respect for my partner," Hiro countered firmly.
Naoya laughed, his tone laced with insinuation. "Your partner? Are you sure about that? Normally, you two are inseparable and all lovey-dovey. But here you are, alone and looking thoughtful. Maybe she doesn't see you the same way anymore. Perhaps she sees you as someone else now."
Hiro was momentarily speechless. Naoya's words struck a chord, stirring a sense of doubt and vulnerability within him. The possibility that Maki might view him differently now that he had lost his memories weighed heavily on his mind.
Hiro's gaze lingered on Naoya, a hint of contemplation in his eyes. "Maybe... you're right," he admitted softly.
Naoya's smile widened. "See? And I bet all your friends feel the same. What a loser," he teased.
"Are you always this annoying?" Hiro inquired, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and curiosity.
"Only to whiners," Naoya replied with a smirk.
Hiro sighed, "It's normal to feel sad if you don't fit in somewhere."
"Yeah, I guess so. But that's only for the weak. The strong ones, like us, we make our presence felt. And I hate to admit it, but you're strong," Naoya conceded.
Hiro shook his head slightly, "I don't remember how to use my cursed technique, so I'm not strong anymore."
Naoya laughed mockingly. "That's true, but remember, your real strength has always been hand-to-hand combat. Muscle memory is something that can't be erased. A few hours of training and your body will move as it always has."
"And what good is that against a sorcerer?" Hiro questioned, skepticism evident in his voice.
"You think so? I bet even the six-eyed freak couldn't beat you in a fair hand-to-hand fight. Even without your cursed technique, only Gojo and Okkotsu are probably above you," Naoya retorted.
Hiro raised an eyebrow, "You don't seem like the type to offer comforting words."
Naoya's expression turned serious. "They're not comforting words. I just get irritated seeing you mope around, not being your usual self. You still give off that same arrogant vibe, Hiro. Your memories might not be complete, but your values, body, soul, and essence remain the same. You're the same person, just missing a few pieces. In a few months, you'll be back to your old self."
A small smile crept onto Hiro's face, his mood visibly lightening.
Naoya added, "Besides, if you're a different person now, that's their problem, not yours. There's nothing wrong with being someone else. Everyone is free to choose their own path."
Hiro remained thoughtful, Naoya's words resonating with him. In the midst of his confusion and lost memories, he found a semblance of comfort in the idea that his core self was still intact, that he was still Hiro Takashi, albeit on a slightly different journey.
Hiro's laughter resonated in the air as he responded, "You know, you're not as terrible as Maki made you out to be."
Naoya rolled his eyes, "That's because I have to keep it cool or Okkotsu will kick my butt."
As Hiro turned to walk away, he raised his hand in a gesture of thanks. Naoya watched him leave, muttering under his breath, "That idiot, I thought he'd never go."
The moment encapsulated the unusual camaraderie that sometimes blossomed in the most unexpected circumstances. Even in a world entangled with sorcery and the supernatural, it was these human connections that often provided the much-needed anchor in a storm. For Hiro, it was a reminder that regardless of his lost memories, the essence of who he was remained unaltered, resonating through these interactions, however brief they might be.
_______
In the school's infirmary, the atmosphere was a mix of solemn reflection and anticipation. Gojo, sitting on one of the beds, his expression a blend of joy and sorrow, spoke with a note of nostalgia in his voice, "So, it's just us three left now... You know, I always thought Nanami would be the kind to survive no matter what." The room fell silent, each person lost in their memories of Nanami.
Breaking the silence, Shoko gently placed her hand on Gojo's shoulder, her voice tinged with compassion, "I'm sorry to say this, but your students need you to be strong now." Gojo's smile was bittersweet as he acknowledged her words, "Ah, of course, I know. After all, I am the great Gojo Satoru."
Ijinchi, joining the conversation, asked with a hint of urgency, "So, when will you face Sukuna?" Gojo answered with a calm assurance, "On the 24th of December. Today is the 19th of November, so we have time to prepare."
Ijinchi's reaction to the date was a mix of surprise and concern. "The 24th? Couldn't it be on any other day?" Gojo looked puzzled for a moment, "Why? Is there a problem?" Ijinchi, realizing his reaction might have been a bit too dramatic, quickly covered his face with his hands, mumbling, "Sorry, don't hit me." Gojo, slightly amused, responded, "What kind of person do you think I am?"
The conversation, though tinged with the weight of recent losses, also carried an undercurrent of the strength and resilience that defined them as sorcerers. They knew the challenges ahead, but also knew they wouldn't face them alone.
________
Maki was relentlessly pacing through the corridors of the Jujutsu School, her steps echoing in the near-empty halls. She checked every classroom, peeked into training areas, and even glanced through the windows of the dormitories, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. Her search led her outside, where she eventually found Naoya, unexpectedly tending to flowers with his back turned to her. This was a rare and almost surreal sight.
"Hey, have you seen Hiro?" Maki asked, her voice cutting through the tranquility of the moment. Naoya turned around, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Oh? Talking to me now? What a pleasant surprise," he teased.
"Just shut up and answer the question," Maki snapped, her patience wearing thin.
Naoya, with his usual cockiness, retorted, "So harsh, Maki. Don't you have a heart? That's no way to ask a favor." Maki let out an exasperated sigh and began to walk away, dismissing the interaction as futile.
Naoya, sensing her departure, called out, "Of course, I've seen Hiro." Maki stopped in her tracks and turned back, her interest piqued. "Where is he?" she demanded.
Naoya, still wearing that mocking smile, said, "Why do you want to see him? To spend time with him, or just to keep an eye on him?" His tone was teasing, yet there was a hint of provocation in his words.
Maki narrowed her eyes, sensing the underlying taunt. "What are you getting at?" she asked cautiously.
Naoya, with a shrug, replied, "Well, normally, one would look for their partner to spend time with them, not just to keep them out of trouble. Poor Hiro must be feeling pretty hurt right now." He laughed mockingly, enjoying the moment.
As Maki's gaze lowered to the ground, a tempest of emotions stirred within her, her voice quivering slightly as she retorted to Naoya, "Just shut up. You have no clue how challenging this is." Her words were a mere whisper against the howling storm of her internal conflict.
Naoya, wearing a mocking grin, shot back, "Oh, certainly, it must be excruciatingly difficult. The person you looked up to isn't as remarkable anymore, so clearly, he's a different person now. I adore the logic you folks employ; it's more sadistic than anything your father ever concocted." His tone dripped with sarcasm, but his words struck Maki like a hailstorm, each syllable piercing through her defenses.
Maki couldn't voice it aloud, but deep down, she knew Naoya's biting words held a shard of truth. She had turned her back on Hiro in his hour of greatest need. Perhaps she was riddled with confusion, but her handling of the situation was far from graceful. They hadn't even broached the subject; she had just assumed Hiro would be fine. He always bounces back, always stands tall - or so she believed.
Memories flooded back to her, particularly of that harrowing time when Hiro first clashed with Yamada. Hiro had grappled with psychological demons, and she had left him alone, thinking it was for the best. Even though Hiro eventually found his footing again, Maki couldn't shake off the feeling that her decision was flawed, a misstep in the dance of their relationship.
The weight of regret clung to Maki like a heavy cloak, her thoughts shadowed by doubts and what-ifs. Had she truly been there for Hiro when he most needed her? It was a question that haunted her, a relentless ghost whispering reminders of her possible failure. The realization gnawed at her, a reminder of the delicate balance of strength and vulnerability in the dance of their intertwined lives.
With a dismissive wave, Naoya resumed watering the flowers, his voice laced with a mocking undertone. "Well, it's amusing to watch you all twist yourselves into knots over something so trivial." As the water cascaded down onto the flowers, reflecting the fading light, Naoya, without looking back, added nonchalantly, "If you're done here, then get lost. I believe Hiro might be in the common room."
Maki, irritation bristling in every step, clicked her tongue in annoyance. Despite her inner turmoil and the sting of Naoya's words, she gathered her resolve and strode away. Her steps were determined, echoing through the quiet corridors as she made her way towards the common room, a place where perhaps she could find not just Hiro but also some answers to the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind.
In the common room, a surreal tableau awaited Maki. Hiro, with a smug grin, was perched atop a groaning Panda sprawled on the floor. Yazu, his face twisted in discomfort, was half-stuck in a freshly made hole in the wall, with Momo laboriously trying to pull him out. Mai, ever so nonchalant, was handing a triumphant Hiro a glass of water.
"What in the world happened here?" Maki asked, her voice a mix of bemusement and exasperation.
"Oh, just a little demonstration of my undiminished strength," Hiro boasted, his chest puffing up with pride. He gave Panda a teasing nudge, eliciting a grumbled response, "He ambushed us, totally unprovoked!"
Maki couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "Looks like you're having quite a bit of fun," she observed, her eyes lingering on Hiro's self-satisfied expression.
Hiro's grin widened. "Of course, and how about you? Will you join me tonight, or should I extend the invitation to your sister instead?" he jested, winking at Maki.
Quick as a flash, Maki's hand snatched up the nearest vase. Without a second thought, she hurled it at Hiro. The vase shattered against his head, sending him tumbling to the floor amidst a shower of ceramic shards.
The room, which had been filled with a mix of tense silence and muffled chuckles, erupted into outright laughter. Maki stood there, a triumphant glint in her eye, as Hiro picked himself up, shaking his head in mock disbelief.
"You never change, do you, Maki?" Hiro chuckled, rubbing the spot where the vase had hit. "Always straight to the point."
Maki, trying to maintain her stern facade, replied, "Someone has to keep you in line." But her eyes betrayed her amusement, softening as she looked at Hiro, who was still dusting off vase fragments with a grin.
Gojo entered the room and immediately burst into laughter upon witnessing the aftermath of Hiro's "strength demonstration." After wiping away tears of mirth, he composed himself and addressed Hiro, "Get ready, Hiro. Tomorrow, we'll work on that technique I mentioned to you."
Hiro nodded in acknowledgment, eager for the challenge. Gojo, with a playful glint in his eye, added, "Oh, and by the way, I hope you didn't eat the flan I left in the fridge two weeks ago, before I got sealed."
Hiro, with a mischievous smile, responded, "I can't really remember," adding to the light-hearted atmosphere of the room. The others in the room exchanged amused glances, knowing full well that the flan's fate was likely sealed the moment Hiro laid eyes on it.
Gojo shook his head in mock despair, yet his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I should have known better than to leave anything edible around you," he joked, eliciting chuckles from the group.
The camaraderie in the room was palpable, a rare moment of levity in their often tumultuous lives as jujutsu sorcerers.