In the midst of the shattered remains of Shibuya, an orchestral symphony echoed through the air, a manifestation of Yazu's cursed technique. The unexpected melody created a brief moment of confusion for Kenjaku, who paused, momentarily disoriented by the source of the sound.
Seizing this opportunity, Yuki Tsukumo, with the grace and agility of a seasoned sorcerer, launched herself at Kenjaku. Her movements were a mesmerizing blend of martial arts and dance, a spectacle amidst the chaos. Hiro, battered and exhausted, thought to himself, "This is it, all or nothing." Despite his body screaming in protest, he clenched his fists, the pain a stark reminder of his intense battle with Yamada.
Yazu, standing nearby, marveled at Hiro's resilience. "It's incredible," he thought. "Hiro-senpai took so much punishment in his fight with Yamada, and yet he's still standing. It's dangerous, we should probably run, but I doubt Senpai would agree to that."
Amidst the ruins of Shibuya, a massive hole loomed nearby, a stark reminder of the battle's ferocity. The sound of the orchestral music crescendoed, creating a surreal backdrop to the confrontation. Yuki struck at Kenjaku with precision, her attacks a blur of motion, while Hiro found an opening and landed a solid hook to Kenjaku's ribs. Uraume attempted to intervene, sending a wave of ice towards Hiro, but Yazu was quick to react, launching a powerful kick to deflect the attack and protect his senpai.
The scene was chaotic yet strangely beautiful, a dance of cursed energy and willpower, set against the backdrop of a city in ruins and a symphony that seemed to underscore the gravity of their situation.
Hiro, fueled by determination and the power of Yazu's cursed technique, relentlessly hammered Kenjaku with a barrage of blows. Each hit was backed by the formidable force of the cursed energy-infused brass knuckles, inflicting not just physical but also spiritual damage on Kenjaku. The battle was intense and brutal, with Hiro's every strike bringing him closer to triumph.
As the orchestral music reached its peak, the scene was one of sheer intensity: the sound of fists connecting with flesh, the grim determination on Hiro's face, and Kenjaku's increasingly desperate attempts to fend off the relentless assault. Hiro's every move was a testament to his will to protect and his commitment to defeat the ancient sorcerer.
But in a moment that felt like a cruel twist of fate, the tide of the battle abruptly changed. As Hiro launched what he believed to be a decisive blow, Kenjaku, with a sinister agility, evaded and counterattacked with terrifying precision. Before Hiro could react, an inky blackness formed around Kenjaku's hand, morphing into a lethal spike that pierced Hiro's abdomen.
Time seemed to slow down as Hiro looked down in shock at the gaping wound. The pain was immediate and intense, a burning sensation spreading rapidly across his body. Blood began to pool at his feet, and his strength waned rapidly. The sight of Hiro's injury was a stark contrast to the energy and determination that had characterized his fight just moments before. Kenjaku, with a cold and calculated expression, stood ready to capitalize on this unexpected turn of events.
Hiro, gravely wounded, staggered as Kenjaku withdrew his hand from the deep wound in Hiro's abdomen. Blood continued to flow freely, drenching his clothes and pooling on the ground beneath him. Kenjaku, with a chilling calmness, said, "I do hope you don't die, Hiro. I want you to witness the new world I am about to create."
As Hiro's vision blurred and his strength rapidly diminished, he managed to lift his head. His gaze fell upon a horrifying sight: thousands of curses materializing out of thin air, swarming around them like a dark, ominous cloud. It was a sight that epitomized chaos and despair.
The curses, each more grotesque and menacing than the last, seemed to be responding to Kenjaku's will, ready to be unleashed upon the world. Hiro realized the grave implications of Kenjaku's plan and the danger it posed to everyone he cared about.
As he stood there, weakened and bleeding, Hiro's thoughts turned to Maki, his friends, and all the people he had vowed to protect. A sense of helplessness washed over him, but even in this dire situation, his resolve did not waver.
However, his body could not keep up with his spirit. The world around him began to spin, and darkness crept into the edges of his vision. With one last effort to stay conscious, Hiro's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, the world fading to black as he lost consciousness, leaving him at the mercy of the unfolding chaos.
________
The first light of dawn filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the room where Hiro Takashi slowly awakens. Stirring from a deep, restless sleep, he feels the aches and pains of his battered body, reminders of his recent battle with Kenjaku. His mind is foggy, memories of the fight playing like distant echoes.
Hiro sits up gingerly, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through his torso. His hand instinctively goes to his side, feeling the bandages wrapped tightly around him. He looks around, trying to piece together his surroundings - the plain white walls, the hum of medical equipment, the faint scent of antiseptic.
"Where am I?" he mutters to himself, his voice hoarse with disuse. He tries to recall the last moments before darkness claimed him, but it's like grasping at smoke - elusive, intangible.
Thirst claws at his throat, driving him to push the covers aside and swing his legs off the bed. He's unsteady on his feet, a testament to the severity of his injuries and the strain of the battle. As he makes his way to the small sink in the corner, he continues his one-sided conversation.
"Last thing I remember... Kenjaku... that intense gaze, the clash of our powers." He splashes cold water on his face, the shock of it bringing a bit more clarity. "Itadori, Yuzu... they're safe, at least."
He catches his reflection in the mirror above the sink. The face staring back at him is a shadow of the confident, charismatic hechicero he once was. His blonde hair is disheveled, his blue eyes clouded with confusion and a hint of fear. The prominent scar on his neck stands out, a stark reminder of the trials he has faced and the ones still lurking ahead.
"Hiro, what happened to everyone else? Maki, Megumi, Kugisaki... where are they now?" His voice is a whisper, laced with worry and uncertainty. He feels a deep sense of unease, knowing that the aftermath of the Shibuya incident has likely changed everything.
He leans heavily against the sink, closing his eyes as he tries to summon strength, both physical and mental. Hiro knows he needs to find answers, to see for himself how his friends have fared, to understand the full extent of what transpired while he was unconscious.
With a deep breath, he straightens up, determination flickering in his eyes. "I need to get up, get out there. Find out what happened, see them with my own eyes."
He turns from the mirror, steadying himself for the journey ahead, ready to face the unknowns of a world that has inevitably been altered by the events of Shibuya.
Hiro carefully dresses in his familiar black shirt and blue school trousers. Each motion is a reminder of his body's exhaustion and the absence of his cursed energy, vital for healing. As he buttons his shirt, he silently reaffirms his resolve, "Show strength, not weakness."
Stepping into the dimly lit corridors of the Tokyo Jujutsu High, Hiro feels the weight of his weakened state. "No cursed energy to heal," he reminds himself, feeling unusually vulnerable without his powers.
He soon encounters Yazu, whose eyes light up with a mix of relief and concern. "Hiro senpai, you're up!" Yazu exclaims, approaching him cautiously.
"Yes, but what happened after I lost consciousness? What's the situation?" Hiro asks, his voice steady but his concern evident.
Yazu hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "It's... complicated. Kenjaku unleashed a horde of curses. We had to escape. Yuki and her team managed to get us to safety."
The gravity of Yazu's words sinks in. Hiro's mind races with images of chaos and destruction, a sharp contrast to the decisive victory he had envisioned.
"And the others? Maki, Megumi, Kugisaki?" Hiro presses on, his anxiety growing.
Yazu avoids Hiro's gaze, clearly holding back. "I think... it's best if Yuki explains everything. She's downstairs, in the basement where we usually watch movies."
Hiro senses the unspoken gravity in Yazu's reluctance to divulge more. Nodding slowly, he realizes the full extent of the situation might be more than Yazu can bear to relay.
"Alright, I'll talk to Yuki then," Hiro says, masking his own unease. "Thanks, Yazu."
As Hiro makes his way to the basement, his thoughts swirl with possibilities and dread. The familiar corridors of the school now feel different, each step heavy with the unknown. Reaching the basement, the place of many light-hearted memories, he braces himself for the revelations that await, ready to face whatever truths Yuki holds.
Hiro reaches the basement, a place he usually associates with relaxation and camaraderie. Now, it feels like the setting for something much more serious. Yuki greets him, her expression somber yet composed.
"It's the first time we're talking, but I've heard a lot about you, Hiro," Yuki begins, extending a courteous nod.
Hiro, his curiosity and concern peaking, asks directly, "What happened after I lost consciousness? What's going on now?"
Yuki takes a deep breath, as if preparing to deliver news she wishes she didn't have to. "You've been unconscious for a couple of days. After the incident with Kenjaku, curses began attacking people. Several cities have fallen. The government had to disclose the existence of curses to the public."
Hiro's mind races, trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. "And my friends? What about them?" he inquires urgently.
Yuki hesitates, then says, "As you know, Gojo was sealed. We've lost several sorcerers." Hiro interrupts, a sense of dread filling his voice, "What about Maki?"
Yuki meets his gaze, her voice steady but sympathetic. "Maki's alive, but... she told me she doesn't want to see you."
Hiro's brow furrows in confusion and hurt, but he pushes on, "And the others?"
Yuki continues, "Itadori is out there, exorcising curses. Fushiguro and Yuta went to get him."
Hiro's eyes widen, "Yuta? He's back?"
Yuki nods, confirming his surprise. "Yes, he returned. In fact, he's the one who healed you. But your body was so exhausted that you've been asleep for days. We had to give you IV fluids to make sure you were alright."
Hiro takes a moment to process this. Yuta's return, the state of the cities, Maki's refusal to see him, it's all overwhelming. He feels a mix of relief and a deepening sense of responsibility. There's so much to do, so many to help, and so many questions that need answers. But first, he needs to gather his strength and fully understand the new reality they're all facing.
Hiro's gaze is fixed on Yuki as she delivers the heart-wrenching news. "Panda is fine," she begins, a small glimmer of hope in the midst of despair, but the relief is short-lived. "However, Inumaki... he lost an arm." Hiro's eyes widen, shock coursing through him at the thought of his friend's injury.
Before Hiro can fully digest this information, Yuki continues with a heavy heart, "And Mr. Nanami... he didn't make it." The words hit Hiro like a tidal wave of sorrow. Nanami, his mentor and a figure of immense admiration in his life, now gone. The reality seems surreal, too painful to fully grasp.
As Hiro struggles with this cascade of bad news, Yuki delivers the final, devastating blow, "And Kugisaki Nobara, she's passed away." At this, Hiro feels as if the very ground beneath him is giving way. Nobara, his teammate, his friend, the one he had vowed to protect, now dead. The enormity of the loss is overwhelming.
The room seems to spin as guilt, sorrow, and a sense of failure engulf Hiro. He thinks of Nobara, her spirit and strength, now extinguished. He was supposed to be their shield, their leader, and he failed them. The promise to protect, now broken, weighs heavily on him.
Tears, a rare show of vulnerability from the usually stoic Hiro, begin to blur his vision. He wants to let go, to allow himself to grieve, to be human. Yet, just as he is about to succumb to his sorrow, Yazu walks in.
In an instant, Hiro's demeanor shifts. He quickly wipes his tears, pushing down the flood of emotions. He must stand strong, be the rock for his friends in this storm of despair. They need him to be unwavering, to be their guide and support in this time of immense grief and confusion.
Hiro's resolve hardens. He will not break, not in front of them. His role is clear now more than ever. He must be the bastion of strength and hope for those who are too overwhelmed to find it within themselves. He must inspire, protect, and lead, without showing his own cracks. For Hiro, showing weakness is not an option, not when those he cares for are looking to him for guidance and support in this shattered new world they find themselves in.
Yazu, noticing the subtle change in Hiro's demeanor, approaches with concern. "Are you okay, Hiro senpai?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.
Hiro, maintaining his composure, responds with a steady voice, "Yes, I'm fine." He quickly shifts the focus away from himself, feeling an urgent need to connect with the others. "Where's Maki?" he asks, his concern for her evident in his tone.
Yazu hesitates for a moment, weighing his words with care. "Maki said she doesn't want to see you," he finally reveals, his eyes avoiding Hiro's gaze.
Hiro feels a sharp sting at Yazu's words. His brows knit together in a mix of confusion and hurt. "What do you mean she doesn't want to see me?" Hiro asks, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Did she say why?"
Yazu shifts uncomfortably, clearly uneasy being the bearer of such news. "I'm not sure of the details, Hiro senpai. She seemed... determined. I didn't ask more."
The news unsettles Hiro. His mind races with questions and possibilities. Had something happened between them that he couldn't remember? Was she blaming him for what occurred in Shibuya? The uncertainty gnaws at him.
"I need to see her, Yazu. I need to know she's alright," Hiro insists, his voice firm. The thought of not resolving things with Maki, not ensuring her safety personally, was unacceptable to him.
Yazu looks at Hiro, empathy evident in his expression. "Maybe give her some time, Hiro senpai. She might need space to... process everything."
Hiro's frustration bubbles to the surface. "If she doesn't want to see me, fine. That's her choice," he says sharply, his fist clenching at his side. He pauses, assessing his physical state. Despite his determination, his body is screaming with exhaustion.
Turning to Yazu, he asks with a steely resolve, "Can I do my domain expansion yet?"
Yazu looks at him with a mix of concern and disbelief. "Hiro senpai, it's only been a couple of days. You're not recovered yet."
Hiro nods reluctantly, acknowledging the truth in Yazu's words. As he starts to leave the room, Yuki calls out, "Where are you going?"
Hiro stops, his back still turned, "I'm going to find Kenjaku and kill him."
Yuki's voice is stern, "Firstly, you don't even know where he's hiding. Secondly, in your current state, it's impossible to defeat him."
Hiro whirls around, anger flaring in his eyes. "I don't want to hear anything from a sorcerer who shirks her responsibilities and shows up only at the end of the fight," he retorts bitterly.
Yuki's response is calm but firm, "If it weren't for me, everyone would be dead by now."
Hiro's voice is cold, "I'd rather be dead than live with this shame."
Yuki looks at him intently. "Do you hear yourself? You're not thinking clearly."
Hiro meets her gaze, then turns and strides out of the room. As he walks across the patio, his steps grow unsteady. The weight of his injuries, the fatigue, and the emotional turmoil finally catch up to him. He feels the exhaustion envelop him, his body nearly buckling under the strain. In this moment, Hiro realizes the limitations of his physical condition, a stark reminder that even the strongest warriors have their breaking points.
As Hiro staggers across the patio, his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The primary question that haunts him is Maki's refusal to see him. "Why doesn't she want to see me? What's happening?" he wonders, a sense of helplessness creeping into his usually confident demeanor.
The turmoil within him is overwhelming. He struggles to understand Maki's decision, to find a reason behind it. Was it something he did or didn't do? Or was it the consequence of the harrowing events in Shibuya? Hiro's thoughts race, searching for answers in the chaos of recent events.
The feeling of being unable to protect his friends, the guilt of surviving while others suffered or died, and now, Maki's unexpected rejection - it all converges into a storm of emotions that Hiro finds difficult to navigate. Anger, confusion, and a deep sense of loss swirl within him, adding to his physical exhaustion.
Hiro has always been the one others leaned on, the source of strength and guidance. But now, faced with his own vulnerabilities and uncertainties, he finds himself in uncharted territory. The realization that he might not have all the answers, that he is not invincible, is both humbling and terrifying.
As he continues to walk, each step heavier than the last, Hiro understands that this is a critical moment of introspection and growth. He needs to confront these feelings, to face the reality of the situation, and to understand that sometimes, strength also lies in accepting one's own limitations and the complexities of human emotions. The journey ahead is not just a physical battle against adversaries, but also an internal struggle to come to terms with the new, harsh realities of their world.
As Hiro staggers across the patio, his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The primary question that haunts him is Maki's refusal to see him. "Why doesn't she want to see me? What's happening?" he wonders, a sense of helplessness creeping into his usually confident demeanor.
The turmoil within him is overwhelming. He struggles to understand Maki's decision, to find a reason behind it. Was it something he did or didn't do? Or was it the consequence of the harrowing events in Shibuya? Hiro's thoughts race, searching for answers in the chaos of recent events.
The feeling of being unable to protect his friends, the guilt of surviving while others suffered or died, and now, Maki's unexpected rejection - it all converges into a storm of emotions that Hiro finds difficult to navigate. Anger, confusion, and a deep sense of loss swirl within him, adding to his physical exhaustion.
Hiro has always been the one others leaned on, the source of strength and guidance. But now, faced with his own vulnerabilities and uncertainties, he finds himself in uncharted territory. The realization that he might not have all the answers, that he is not invincible, is both humbling and terrifying.
As he continues to walk, each step heavier than the last, Hiro understands that this is a critical moment of introspection and growth. He needs to confront these feelings, to face the reality of the situation, and to understand that sometimes, strength also lies in accepting one's own limitations and the complexities of human emotions. The journey ahead is not just a physical battle against adversaries, but also an internal struggle to come to terms with the new, harsh realities of their world.
Exhausted and overwhelmed, Hiro finds a secluded spot and sits down, closing his eyes in an attempt to find some inner peace. He focuses inward, seeking the guidance of Buda, whose voice has guided and challenged him in the past.
As he delves deeper into his meditation, the familiar, eerie laughter of Buda echoes in his mind. The sound is unnerving, yet strangely comforting in its familiarity.
"Ah, Hiro, seeking wisdom in your hour of despair?" Buda's voice is deep and resonant, tinged with a mocking tone.
Hiro tries to steady his racing thoughts. "I need guidance, Buda. I'm lost."
"Lost? Or just afraid to face your own weaknesses?" Buda teases, his laughter reverberating in Hiro's mind.
Hiro clenches his fists, frustration mounting. "This is serious. My friends are hurt, some are dead, and Maki... she won't see me. I don't understand why."
"Oh, Hiro," Buda chuckles darkly. "You, who have faced countless battles, are now felled by the mysteries of the human heart. Isn't it ironic?"
Hiro sighs, trying to ignore Buda's taunts. "Please, I need your wisdom."
Buda's tone shifts, becoming slightly more serious. "The path of a warrior is lined with pain and loss. You cannot protect everyone, nor can you force them to accept your protection."
"But what about Maki? Why is she pushing me away?" Hiro presses, seeking clarity.
"Sometimes, the strongest among us are the ones who need space to heal on their own. Maki's reasons are her own. Respect her path, as you must follow yours."
Hiro pauses, letting the words sink in. "And what is my path?"
"Your path, young Hiro, is to grow, to understand that strength is not just in the physical realm, but in accepting your limitations, in understanding others' needs, and in facing your own heart."
Hiro opens his eyes, Buda's laughter still echoing in his mind. He feels a slight shift within himself, a glimmer of understanding. The path ahead is not just about external battles, but also about internal growth and acceptance. Hiro stands up, a bit steadier, a bit wiser, ready to face the challenges ahead, both within and outside himself.
Hiro walks back to his room, each step a reminder of his physical and emotional exhaustion. He knows he needs to rest, to regain his strength for the challenges that lie ahead. As he lies down and closes his eyes, a memory unexpectedly surfaces in his mind, a stark contrast to his current reality.
He is in the school's parking lot, washing his new car – a stunning blue Mustang. He admires the sleek lines of the vehicle, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. Suddenly, Kugisaki approaches, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Senpai, can I drive it?" she asks eagerly.
Hiro chuckles and replies, "Of course not, you're only 15. Besides, you'll crash it."
Just then, Itadori joins them, adding with a grin, "He's right, senpai. You're terrible at Mario Kart."
Hiro laughs and says, "I need to use the bathroom. Please, take care of it." As he walks away, Kugisaki's expression turns mischievously devious. "Hey Itadori, help me drive it?" she whispers.
Itadori looks terrified. "But Kugisaki, Hiro senpai will be mad!"
Ignoring his concerns, Kugisaki sticks out her tongue, climbs into the car, and presses the ignition button. The engine roars to life. Overwhelmed by excitement, she slams the accelerator and crashes into a tree.
Hiro returns just in time to see the crash and yells in despair, "My car!" Kugisaki bursts out of the car, laughing hysterically as she runs away.
Back in the present, Hiro opens his eyes, the memory still vivid in his mind. He allows the tears to flow freely down his cheeks, whispering to himself, "I can cry, right? Kugisaki..." In this private moment, away from the eyes of others, he gives himself permission to grieve, to mourn the loss of his friend, and to feel the full weight of his emotions. The memory, both painful and precious, serves as a reminder of the fragility of life and the deep connections that make it meaningful.
Hiro rises from his bed, a newfound determination coursing through him despite his physical and emotional exhaustion. He decides to confront the situation with Maki, needing to understand her reluctance to see him. As he makes his way toward her room, his fingers absentmindedly trace the prominent scar on his neck.
He reflects aloud to himself, "The pain I felt dying over and over again in the temple... it's nothing compared to this ache in my heart now." His voice is a soft murmur, tinged with sorrow. The memories of Kugisaki and Nanami sensei flood his mind, intensifying the pain that feels far deeper and more complex than any physical wound he's endured.
Each step feels heavy, not just with physical fatigue, but with the weight of loss and unresolved emotions. Hiro knows that the path ahead is fraught with difficult conversations and confrontations, but he also understands that facing these challenges is essential for healing and moving forward.
As he approaches Maki's room, he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever response he might receive. In this moment, Hiro is not just a sorcerer or a warrior, but a person grappling with grief, guilt, and the complexities of human relationships.
Hiro enters Maki's room to find her wrapped in her sheets, almost cocooned in them. He ventures a guess, "I didn't see your slippers in my room, so I figured you might have gone back to sleeping in here."
Maki remains silent, offering no response. Hiro cautiously sits on the edge of her bed, his voice gentle, "What's going on, Maki? Why didn't you want to see me?"
Maki's voice is a mere whisper, her words tinged with vulnerability. "It's not that I didn't want to see you, idiot. I didn't want you to see me."
Confused, Hiro asks, "Why not?"
Maki's voice is almost inaudible, "In the fight with a curse, I got severely burned. I'm covered in scars now. I don't want you to see me like this."
Hiro reaches up to touch his own scar on the neck, a symbol of his own battles and survival. "But I'm a fan of scars," he says softly.
Maki's frustration is evident as she counters, "You always take care of yourself, always look clean, you stand out because of your appearance, and now I..."
Hiro cuts her off, his voice firm yet full of understanding. "Don't say such nonsense, Maki. You are strong. You don't need anyone's opinion, especially not mine."
In this moment, Hiro tries to convey to Maki the depth of his respect for her, not just for her physical strength but for her resilience and spirit. He wants her to see that scars do not define her worth or diminish her in his eyes. They are, instead, a testament to her bravery and the battles she has survived.
Hiro reaches out gently, his hands careful and respectful as he slowly pulls away the sheet, revealing Maki in her vulnerable state. Her body is marked with scars from second-degree burns, a testament to the ferocity of her battle. A bandage wraps around one eye, and her once long, meticulously cared-for hair is now short and ragged.
Maki's reaction is one of slight embarrassment, a flush of vulnerability crossing her features. It's a rare sight, seeing this strong, unyielding warrior in a moment of self-consciousness.
Without a word, Hiro wraps his arms around her, embracing her with a warmth and understanding that transcends the need for speech. In this silent communion, they share a deep connection, an acknowledgment of each other's pain and strength.
In Hiro's embrace, Maki feels a sense of safety and acceptance. His actions speak louder than any words could - they tell her that she is seen, she is valued, and she is strong, not despite her scars, but inclusive of them. The scars are not just reminders of what she has endured but are symbols of her survival and resilience.
For Hiro, this moment reinforces his respect and care for Maki. It's a reaffirmation of their bond, one that goes beyond physical appearances and is rooted in shared experiences, mutual respect, and unspoken understanding. In this quiet, powerful moment, they find comfort and strength in each other, united in their journey as warriors and as individuals who have faced and overcome tremendous challenges.
Their lips meet in a tender, understanding kiss, a physical manifestation of the deep emotional connection they share. The kiss is soft, yet it carries the weight of all the unspoken words, the shared hardships, and the mutual respect between them.
After a moment, Maki pulls back slightly, her eyes searching Hiro's. "Do the scars really not bother you?" she asks, her voice a mix of vulnerability and newfound hope.
Hiro meets her gaze with sincerity, "They don't matter to me at all," he responds earnestly.
Maki, emboldened by his acceptance and the raw honesty in his eyes, says softly but with a newfound confidence, "Then if they don't matter to you, let's not let them hold us back."
Hiro nods, his movements slow and careful as he gently helps Maki remove her shirt, revealing the full extent of her scars. In a show of solidarity and vulnerability, Hiro also removes his shirt, unveiling his own array of scars and bandaged torso.
Maki laughs softly, a sound tinged with both surprise and a hint of relief. "I had almost forgotten how many scars you have," she remarks, her eyes tracing the marks of battles past on Hiro's body.
"It's all thanks to that stupid temple," Hiro quips with a wry smile, lightening the mood.
Maki leans in to kiss him, a gentle, reassuring touch. "My body still hurts a bit, so be gentle," she whispers against his lips.
Hiro responds in kind, "Mine's pretty beaten up too." Their kiss deepens, a symbol of their mutual understanding and care.
Together, they find warmth and comfort under the sheets, away from the chilly autumn air. It's a moment of intimate connection, a time for healing and tenderness. For both Hiro and Maki, this is more than a physical union; it's a deeply emotional and healing experience, where they find solace and acceptance in each other's arms. In this private space, they are not just warriors bearing the marks of battle but two souls seeking and finding comfort, understanding, and love.
__________
Under the dark sky of Shibuya, illuminated only by the occasional flickers of light, Kenjaku and Uraume walk through the aftermath of chaos. The streets, now eerily silent, bear the scars of the recent battles. They head towards the site of Hiro and Yamada's intense confrontation.
Kenjaku, with a contemplative look, breaks the silence. "Good heavens, I didn't expect Yamada to be defeated. He was supposed to become the pinnacle of sorcerers in a few years, even surpassing Sukuna himself."
Uraume, walking steadily beside him, adds cautiously, "We can't afford to be complacent with Takashi still out there."
As they come to a stop in front of Yamada's body, Kenjaku observes the disfigured face, a result of the brutal fight. Despite the grotesque injuries, a serene smile adorns Yamada's face, a smile of peace, perhaps reflecting his reconciliation with his friend before passing.
Kenjaku's lips curve into a sly smile, "Relax, I have a good plan." His voice carries a tone of confidence and cunning, suggesting that he is far from finished, and his schemes continue to weave a web of danger and deceit. Despite the setback of Yamada's defeat, Kenjaku seems undeterred, ready to adapt and advance his agenda, whatever it may be. His presence in Shibuya, amidst the destruction, serves as a stark reminder that the battle against him and the threats he poses are far from over.