Under the soft glow of the lamp, Hiro Takashi lay on his bed, immersed in a book about cursed rituals. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the distant whisper of the wind outside. Shadows danced across Hiro's features, accentuating the thoughtful furrows in his brow and the striking blue of his eyes that scanned the text with a focus that belied the turmoil within.
The night was still, yet a restlessness hung in the air, mirroring the chaos that seemed ever-present just beyond the sanctuary of Hiro's room. Every so often, his fingers would subconsciously trace the prominent scar on his neck, a stark reminder of his recent break with Buddha and the path of uncertainty he now walked.
This amnesia that gripped Hiro had reshaped his relationships, turning him into an enigma among his peers. Once a figure of admiration, he now sensed their curiosity and unease. Yet, he had become adept at hiding his own feelings of isolation behind a mask of indifference.
His thoughts inevitably turned to Maki. Their relationship, strained by his memory loss, was a complex web of emotions, made all the more complicated by her recent injuries. Hiro felt a deep, unexplainable connection to her, one that he struggled to fully comprehend.
Lost in contemplation, Hiro didn't initially notice the soft knock on his door. It was only when the door creaked open, revealing Naoya Zenin, that he looked up. Naoya stood in the doorway, his demeanor a blend of annoyance and smug amusement.
"Still trying to play the scholar, Hiro?" Naoya remarked, his voice laced with a mocking edge. "Most people would be asleep at this hour."
Hiro closed the book and sat up, regarding Naoya with a calm, measured look. "Sleep doesn't come easy these days," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weariness.
Naoya stepped into the room, his steps deliberate, a smirk playing on his lips. "Dwelling on the past won't help, you know. Or whatever it is you're trying to dredge up from that memory of yours. It's a waste of time."
A shadow of a frown crossed Hiro's face. "I'm not dwelling, Naoya. I'm searching for answers, trying to piece together a past that seems to slip through my fingers."
Naoya leaned against the wall casually, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're chasing ghosts, Hiro. But I suppose that's what you're good at, isn't it? Always the enigmatic hero, even when you don't have a clue."
The room fell into a brief silence, the tension palpable. Hiro understood that beneath Naoya's taunts lay a grudging respect, born from Hiro's undeniable strength and resilience.
"You don't have to understand my reasons, Naoya. But I'll find my way, with or without my memories intact," Hiro said, his voice firm yet devoid of animosity.
Naoya's smirk softened, a rare moment of sincerity flashing in his eyes. "I don't doubt your strength, Hiro. But remember, even the strongest can falter. Just don't lose yourself in the shadows of your forgotten past."
With that, Naoya turned to leave, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had arisen. Hiro watched him go, pondering Naoya's words. They were rivals, yes, but in Naoya's challenge, Hiro found a catalyst to push forward in his quest for self-discovery.
As Hiro sat deep in thought, the door to his room quietly opened again. This time, it was Maki Zenin who stepped in, her presence immediately altering the atmosphere in the room. Hiro quickly stood up, grabbing a pillow and a blanket from the bed. "I know, I know," he said, anticipating her request, "I'll sleep on the floor."
To his surprise, Maki shook her head. "Actually, no," she said softly, "I was thinking... maybe we could share the bed."
Hiro turned to face her, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and hope.
Maki nodded. "After all, we are a couple," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "And you're still the same Hiro to me, at least in essence."
A smile, the first genuine one in a long while, broke across Hiro's face. He lay back down on the bed, his eyes still locked with Maki's. "What made you come to that conclusion?" he asked, his tone light but curious.
Maki's reply was straightforward yet tinged with irony. "Unfortunately, Naoya," she said, a slight smile playing on her lips.
Hiro chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "That idiot somehow managed to lift my spirits," he admitted.
Maki lay down beside him, turning to face him. She reached out, her fingers gently threading through his hair, a comforting and intimate gesture. In that moment, the room felt warmer, the shadows less daunting.
As Maki's fingers moved softly through his hair, Hiro felt a sense of peace wash over him. The confusion and uncertainty that had been his constant companions since the loss of his memory seemed to recede, even if just for the moment. Here, in the quiet of the night, with Maki by his side, Hiro felt a connection to his past, to the person he once was, and to the person he still could be.
In the quiet intimacy of the room, Maki leaned close to Hiro, her breath a whisper against his ear. "Take off your shirt," she murmured softly.
Hiro paused for a moment, a mix of surprise and anticipation flickering in his eyes. Then, slowly, with Maki's gentle assistance, he began to remove his shirt. The fabric slid off his shoulders, revealing the defined contours of his upper body, marked by the vivid scar on his neck – a stark reminder of his past.
"Are you sure?" Hiro asked, his voice low and tinged with a hint of vulnerability. The question wasn't just about the moment they were sharing; it was laden with the complexities of their relationship, the uncertainties wrought by his memory loss, and the deep-seated feelings that remained between them.
Maki nodded, her eyes locked with his, conveying a depth of emotion that words couldn't capture. In her gaze, Hiro saw not just affirmation of the physical connection they were about to share, but also a rekindling of the emotional bond that had always existed between them.
In that silent exchange, there was an understanding, a mutual recognition of the love and history they shared. It was a moment of profound connection, a reaffirmation of their bond that transcended the challenges they had faced and the obstacles yet to come. As they moved closer to each other, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of their shared affection and the quiet promise of the night.
As they drew closer, the air between Hiro and Maki seemed to thrum with a palpable energy, a testament to the deep connection they shared. Maki's hands, gentle yet confident, explored Hiro's bare skin, tracing the lines and contours of his muscles, each touch reigniting memories of their shared past, even as they forged new ones in the present.
Hiro's heart raced, not just from the physical closeness, but from the flood of emotions that Maki's touch evoked. He felt a surge of affection, a deep-seated gratitude for this moment of vulnerability and trust. In response, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting together as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle.
The world outside continued its nocturnal chorus, oblivious to the profound connection unfolding within the walls of Hiro's room. As they lay together, the barriers that Hiro's amnesia had erected seemed to crumble, piece by piece, under the gentle assault of Maki's affection.
Their lips met again, this time with a heightened sense of urgency and passion. The kiss was a fusion of past and present, a silent promise for the future. It was a reminder that, despite the uncertainties and trials they faced, their bond was a constant, a beacon in the ever-shifting landscape of their lives.
In the quiet of the night, with only the soft rustle of sheets and the steady rhythm of their breathing, Hiro and Maki found solace in each other's presence. It was a moment of peace, a brief respite from the chaos of their lives as jujutsu sorcerers. Here, in each other's arms, they found not just physical comfort, but an emotional anchor, a reminder that no matter what the future held, they would face it together.
As they eventually drifted off to sleep, the challenges of the day ahead loomed in the distance. But for now, they were content, enveloped in the warmth of their embrace, the silent vows of love and loyalty lingering in the air, unspoken but deeply felt.
As the first rays of morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft, golden glow across the room, Hiro and Maki slowly awakened from their peaceful slumber. The new day brought with it a sense of renewal, a gentle reminder of life's ongoing journey. They lay there for a few moments, basking in the quiet comfort of each other's presence, reluctant to break the serene silence.
Hiro turned to Maki, his eyes reflecting the morning light. "Good morning," he said softly, a small, contented smile playing on his lips.
Maki returned the smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Morning," she murmured. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I have in a long time," Hiro replied, his hand finding hers under the covers, their fingers intertwining naturally. "Thanks to you."
Maki's smile widened slightly. "I'm glad," she said. "I... I was worried, you know. About us. After everything that's happened."
Hiro's grip on her hand tightened reassuringly. "I know it's been hard, especially with my memory issues. But this," he gestured to the space between them, "this feels right. It feels like us."
Maki nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It does," she agreed. "I've missed this, Hiro. The connection we have. I was afraid we'd lost it."
"We haven't lost anything," Hiro said firmly. "We're just finding new ways to rediscover what we had. And I'm grateful for every moment we get to spend together, rediscovering it all."
Maki leaned in, resting her head against Hiro's shoulder. "I'm grateful too. For your patience, your strength... for you."
The room filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from deep understanding and mutual affection. As they lay there, watching the morning light grow stronger, they both knew that the day ahead would bring its own set of challenges. But for now, they allowed themselves to linger in the moment, in the simple joy of being together.
Eventually, they would have to rise, to face the world and its demands. But the morning's gentle awakening, the warmth of their shared embrace, and the quiet conversation they shared would remain with them, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.
_______
Outside, in the tranquil sanctuary of the school's garden, Naoya Zenin busied himself with a task that seemed oddly out of character for someone of his disposition – watering the flowers. The garden was a splash of vibrant colors, each bloom a testament to the care and dedication put into their nurturing. For Naoya, this new hobby was more than just a pastime; it was a respite, a momentary escape from the complexities of his life as a jujutsu sorcerer.
As he methodically tended to each plant, Naoya's thoughts wandered, reflecting on the recent changes in his life. Lately, he found himself increasingly mingling with individuals he would have once deemed unworthy of his time – people like Maki, Mai, and Kamo. It was a departure from his usual preference for the company of his clan, where strength and lineage were paramount.
Naoya prided himself on his strength and his heritage, and yet, here he was, investing time and energy in relationships outside his usual circle. He had always respected the strong, figures like Satoru Gojo and Yuta Okkotsu, and even Hiro, despite his amnesia, held a certain appeal. Hiro's strength and resilience commanded Naoya's respect, albeit grudgingly.
As he watered the flowers, Naoya couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at this newfound closeness with Hiro. It was an unusual feeling, one that he couldn't quite place. Was it rivalry? Respect? Or something else entirely? Naoya was not one to dwell on emotional introspection, but even he had to admit that his interactions with Hiro had added a new dimension to his life, one that both irritated and intrigued him.
The garden was a place of peace, a stark contrast to the tumultuous world of jujutsu sorcerers. As Naoya moved from plant to plant, his mind continued to ponder these unexpected shifts in his relationships. He realized that, in some way, these interactions were changing him, challenging his views on strength and companionship. It was a realization that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, but one he couldn't ignore.
Finishing his task, Naoya stood back and looked over the garden. The flowers, vibrant and full of life, seemed to thrive under his care. It was a small but significant accomplishment, a reminder that even someone as focused on strength and power as himself could find solace and satisfaction in something as simple as tending to a garden.
As he left the garden, Naoya's thoughts remained on his interactions with his peers, especially Hiro. He knew that the days ahead would likely bring more challenges, more opportunities to test his strength and beliefs. But for now, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, a rare concession for someone as typically unyielding as Naoya Zenin.
Naoya stood at the edge of the garden, his hands still damp from watering the flowers. A frown briefly crossed his face as he muttered under his breath, "How I hate that blond idiot." He was, of course, referring to Hiro, whose presence had become an increasingly significant part of his life.
Despite his words, the corners of Naoya's mouth curled into a reluctant smile. "Although," he conceded, speaking to no one but himself, "it's never boring with him around." There was a hint of begrudging admiration in his tone, a rare acknowledgment of the complex feelings Hiro evoked in him.
As he walked away from the garden, Naoya's thoughts lingered on Hiro. Their interactions were often marked by rivalry and provocation, yet there was an undercurrent of respect – a mutual recognition of each other's strengths. Hiro, with his remarkable abilities and enigmatic past, had become something of an anomaly in Naoya's straightforward world, where power and lineage dictated one's place in society.
Naoya's smile faded as he considered the implications of this. His life had always been about upholding the honor and traditions of his clan, about asserting his dominance in the jujutsu world. And yet, here he was, finding an odd sense of enjoyment in his encounters with Hiro, a person who defied many of the principles Naoya held dear.
This internal conflict was not something Naoya was accustomed to. He was a man of action, not introspection. But as he left the tranquility of the garden behind, he couldn't shake off the feeling that his interactions with Hiro and the others were changing him in subtle ways.
As he made his way back to the school, Naoya's usual confident stride was tempered with a thoughtful air. He knew that the days ahead would be filled with the usual challenges and conflicts inherent to the life of a jujutsu sorcerer. But for now, he allowed himself a rare moment of reflection, a brief pause in his relentless pursuit of strength and power. Whether he liked it or not, Hiro and the others had become a part of his world, and it was a reality that even Naoya Zenin could not easily dismiss.
_______
The intensity of the moment between Hiro and Maki was palpable, their passion for each other evident in every touch, every breath. Maki's fingers dug into Hiro's back, her nails pressing firmly into his skin as she urged him on. "Harder, Hiro," she gasped, her voice laced with desire.
Hiro, responding to her plea, intensified his efforts, drawing a sharp gasp from Maki. Their connection was deep, their movements in perfect sync, when suddenly, the door burst open.
"Satoru Gojo," the infamous jujutsu sorcerer with his trademark blindfold, stood at the doorway, his voice breaking the intimate atmosphere. "Hirooo, time for training!"
Hiro and Maki, startled by the intrusion, quickly covered themselves with the sheets. Hiro shot an annoyed glare at Gojo. "Damn it, don't you know how to knock?" he exclaimed, his frustration evident.
Gojo chuckled, thoroughly amused by the situation. "Oh, I know how to knock," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But this is much more fun."
In a swift motion fueled by irritation, Maki grabbed the lamp beside the bed and hurled it at Gojo. The lamp, however, met an abrupt end as it crashed into Gojo's 'Infinite Void,' disappearing before it could reach him. "GET OUT, YOU DAMNED DEER-EYED IDIOT!" Maki shouted, her voice a mix of anger and embarrassment.
Gojo, unfazed by the hostility, continued to laugh. "I'll be waiting outside, my dear Hiro," he called out before finally exiting the room, leaving behind a trail of his infectious laughter.
Hiro let out a long sigh, his irritation slowly giving way to resignation. He turned to Maki, a wry smile forming on his lips. "Is he always like this?" he asked.
Maki, her annoyance fading, nodded. "This isn't the first time it's happened," she admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
_________
Hiro, still slightly flustered from the earlier intrusion, made his way to the training area where Gojo was waiting. The morning air was crisp, and the sun shone brightly, casting long shadows on the ground. Hiro approached, his expression a mix of irritation and focus, ready for whatever training Gojo had in store.
As Hiro arrived, Gojo greeted him with a wide grin, clearly amused by the morning's events. "Ah, there's our hero!" Gojo exclaimed. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything too... intense."
Hiro rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. "Can we just get on with the training?" he asked, clearly eager to move past the awkwardness.
Gojo, however, wasn't quite ready to let it go. In a high-pitched, mocking voice, he imitated Maki: "More, Hiro, harder!" He accompanied his words with exaggerated gestures, clearly enjoying the moment.
Hiro's face flushed a deeper shade of red, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. "That's enough, Gojo," he said firmly, clenching his fists at his sides.
Gojo chuckled, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright, alright, no need to get all serious. Let's focus on the training." He then shifted to a more professional demeanor, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye remained.
Hiro took a deep breath, trying to channel his frustration into focus. "What are we working on today?" he asked, ready to redirect his energy into something productive.
Gojo's words piqued Hiro's curiosity as he mentioned something that would be immensely useful for him. With a fluid motion, Gojo carefully removed his blindfold, revealing one of his striking blue eyes. "What I'm about to teach you," Gojo began, "is about seeing beyond the obvious."
Hiro watched intently, aware that he was about to witness something extraordinary. "What do you mean?" he asked, his interest evident in his tone.
Gojo's eye gleamed with a mysterious light. "With my Six Eyes, I can perceive far more than you or anyone else can normally see. Now, you, with your cursed energy manipulation skills, could develop something akin to the Six Eyes. But instead of general perception, yours would be focused on cursed energy - seeing it, sensing its trajectory, its weaknesses."
Hiro absorbed this information, understanding the significance of what Gojo was suggesting. The ability to perceive cursed energy in such a detailed manner would be a game-changer. "But how can I achieve something like that?" Hiro inquired, both skeptical and intrigued.
Gojo smiled enigmatically. "It's all about fine-tuning your senses and aligning them with your cursed energy. It's not about physical sight; it's about perception. Your recent ritual, the one you performed to break your bond with Buddha, has already altered your cursed energy. Now, it's about harnessing that change, using it to enhance your perception."
Hiro nodded, beginning to understand. Gojo's teaching was about transcending physical limitations and tapping into a deeper, more intuitive understanding of cursed energy.
"Think of it as an extension of your current abilities," Gojo continued. "You've always had a strong affinity for cursed energy. Now, it's about refining that affinity, honing it to a point where you can not only manipulate cursed energy but also perceive its very essence."
The concept was daunting, but Hiro felt a surge of excitement at the challenge. This was an opportunity to grow stronger, to gain an edge in battle. "I'm ready to learn," Hiro said, determination in his eyes.
Gojo's expression turned serious. "Good. This will require intense concentration and a deep connection with your cursed energy. But if anyone can do it, it's you, Hiro."
As they delved into the training, Hiro felt a newfound sense of purpose. This was more than just learning a new technique; it was about evolving, about becoming something more than he had ever been. And with Gojo's guidance, he was ready to take that leap.
As the hours passed, Hiro immersed himself in the training with Gojo, pushing his limits and honing his perception of cursed energy. It was a grueling process, demanding both mental and physical stamina. Hiro's focus was unwavering, his determination fueled by the potential of what he could achieve.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting its warm light over the training area. Hiro's eyes, not used to such intense concentration on the unseen flows of cursed energy, began to show signs of strain. They were red and fatigued, a testament to his relentless effort.
It was then that Maki arrived, carrying a bottle of water and a towel. She approached Hiro, concern evident in her expression as she noticed the tiredness in his eyes. "You're pushing yourself too hard," she said gently, handing him the water and towel.
Hiro took a moment to step back from the training, gratefully accepting the water. He drank deeply, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat. He then used the towel to dab at his forehead, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated there.
"Thanks, Maki," Hiro said, his voice tinged with fatigue. "Gojo's training is intense, but I need to learn this. It could change everything."
Maki nodded, understanding the importance of what Hiro was undertaking. "Just don't forget to take care of yourself in the process," she advised. "Even the strongest warriors need to rest."
Gojo, who had been observing the exchange, added, "She's right, you know. This kind of training isn't just about endurance; it's about knowing when to rest and recover. Your body and mind need time to assimilate what you've learned."
Hiro acknowledged their concern with a nod. He realized that pushing himself too hard could be counterproductive. This training required a balance of effort and rest, a harmony between exertion and recovery.
"Take a break," Maki suggested. "You've done enough for now. We can all have lunch together, and you can get back to training afterward."
Hiro agreed, knowing that a break would be beneficial. As they walked back towards the school together, Hiro felt a sense of gratitude for Maki's support and Gojo's guidance. The path he was on was challenging, but with the help of those around him, he knew he could overcome any obstacle.
The training would continue, but for now, Hiro would take the necessary time to rest and prepare himself for the next phase. He was on a journey of growth and discovery, and every step, every moment of effort and rest, was a part of that journey.
Hiro, Maki, and Gojo entered the bustling cafeteria, immediately noticing the unusual level of activity. The place was livelier than usual, filled with the chatter and laughter of students and faculty alike. The atmosphere was a blend of camaraderie and underlying tension, a reflection of the challenging times they were all navigating.
Hiro scanned the room, taking in the various groups gathered around the tables. Panda, Inumaki, Yuta, Yazu, and Itadori were engaged in an animated conversation at one table, while Hakari, Hoshi, and Kashimo sat at another, discussing something with serious expressions. Mai, Momo, and Kamo were gathered around a third table, and Kusakabe, Utahime, and Higuruma occupied a fourth, each group seeming to be in their own world.
"Wow, it's more crowded than usual," Hiro commented, his gaze sweeping across the room.
Gojo nodded in agreement. "These are tough times," he said. "It's important we all stick together, stay connected."
Hiro, after a moment's consideration, decided to join Hakari's table. He approached and took a seat, greeted by nods and brief smiles of acknowledgment from Hakari, Hoshi, and Kashimo.
"Intense training session?" Hakari asked, eyeing Hiro's fatigued appearance.
"Yeah, Gojo's been pushing me hard," Hiro replied, his voice carrying a hint of both exhaustion and pride.
Hiro's gaze landed on Hoshi, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. He searched his memory, trying to place the face in front of him. "Who are you?" Hiro finally asked, his curiosity evident.
"I'm Hoshi," the person replied, their voice calm and steady.
Hiro's mind raced. Maki had shown him photographs of the students from the Tokyo Jujutsu High School in an effort to jog his memory. Among those photos was one of Hoshi, a senior student. But the Hoshi in the photograph looked markedly different from the person sitting before him. In the photo, Hoshi appeared as an ordinary young man, but now... now Hoshi looked more feminine.
Hiro couldn't contain his surprise. "Wait, you're Hoshi?" he blurted out. "But you... you've changed."
Hoshi nodded, a small smile on their face. "Yes, I have," they said. "A lot can happen in a short time. People change, Hiro. Inside and out."
Hiro was taken aback, but he quickly composed himself, realizing his reaction might have been too forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just a surprise," he said, his tone apologetic.
"No offense taken," Hoshi reassured him. "I understand it can be surprising. I've been through a lot since you last saw me. My journey has led me to embrace my true self."
Hoshi's response was met with nods of understanding and support from the others at the table. It was clear that Hoshi was well-respected and valued within their community.
Maki leaned in close to Hiro, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know, Hoshi is actually Hakari's boyfriend... or girlfriend, I should say."
Hiro struggled to keep a straight face, the unexpected revelation catching him off guard. His attempt to stifle a laugh, however, didn't go unnoticed. Hakari raised an eyebrow, a questioning look on his face.
Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, Hiro burst into laughter. "Only Hoshi could put up with the fact that you don't use deodorant," he said, the words slipping out amidst his chuckles.
Hakari stood up, a playful yet mock-offended expression on his face. But then, something clicked for both Hakari and Maki. Hiro had just referenced an old joke he used to make about Hakari's lack of deodorant, a detail from before his memory loss.
Maki's eyes widened as she turned to Hiro. "Hey, did you remember something just now?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and excitement.
Hiro paused, his laughter fading as he delved into his thoughts. For a moment, there was a flicker of recognition, a hint of a memory trying to resurface. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. "Actually, no," he replied, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Hakari let out a sigh, his brief moment of anticipation deflating as he sat back down. There was a palpable sense of letdown at the table, a collective wish for Hiro's memories to return.
Despite the disappointment, the conversation around the table picked up again, albeit with a more subdued tone. Hiro's brief brush with a forgotten memory served as a reminder of the complex journey he was on. It was a path filled with both frustration and hope, uncertainty and discovery.
As they continued their lunch, Hiro couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the people around him. They were his anchors, his connection to a past he couldn't fully remember and a future he was still trying to shape. In their company, Hiro found not just camaraderie, but a source of strength to continue his quest to rediscover himself.
The lively chatter in the cafeteria came to an abrupt halt as Naoya Zenin entered the room. His presence seemed to cast a palpable tension over the students and faculty, a silent testament to his reputation and standing within the jujutsu community.
Naoya, seemingly unfazed by the sudden quiet, made his way through the cafeteria with his usual confident stride. He approached the table where Hiro and the others were seated and, without a word, took a seat beside Hiro.
The silence lingered for a moment longer before Hiro, ever the one to break tension, spoke up. "So, to what do we owe the honor of your company, Naoya?" he asked, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.
Naoya glanced around the table, his eyes briefly meeting each person's gaze before settling on Hiro. "Just thought I'd see what the fuss is about over here," he replied nonchalantly. "Seems like every time I look, there's a new face joining your little group."
Hiro chuckled. "We're just a popular bunch, I guess. Or maybe people are drawn to us because we don't take ourselves too seriously."
Naoya smirked, picking up a piece of fruit from a nearby plate. "Or maybe they're just curious to see if you'll ever get your memories back. It's not every day someone loses three years worth of their life."
The comment hung in the air, a reminder of Hiro's ongoing struggle. But before the mood could turn somber, Hoshi chimed in, "Or maybe they're here to see if you've finally learned how to be nice, Naoya."
A ripple of laughter went around the table, even Naoya cracked a small smile. "Nice? That's not really my style. But I suppose I can make exceptions," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.