Maki's grip on Hiro's face was firm, her voice laced with urgency. "Hiro, listen to me. You've lost your memory."
Hiro, still in disbelief, raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You know, this is the third strangest way a girl has tried to get me to stay over," he quipped, brushing off her concern.
Maki let out a frustrated sigh. "Hiro, I'm serious. Check your phone," she insisted, hoping that something familiar would trigger his memory.
Reluctantly, Hiro walked over to the nightstand and picked up his phone. The wallpaper was a photo of him and Maki, smiling and close. Hiro, still not convinced, smirked and said, "Nice try. You used Photoshop to change my wallpaper while I was asleep. What was your name again?"
Fed up with his disbelief, Maki grabbed his ear and twisted it gently but firmly. "Maki," she said sternly.
Hiro winced in pain and finally conceded, "Alright, alright, I believe you. I've lost my memory."
In the room, everyone was gathered around Hiro, each person showing varying degrees of concern and curiosity. Kusakabe, rubbing his head in frustration, broke the silence. "So, any idea how he lost his memory?"
Maki shook her head, her expression one of concern. "We didn't really talk about his fight with Yami. I don't know if it was a blow to the head or something else."
Hiro, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to make light of the situation. "I thought being at a school of sorcerers would be more fun – magic, rabbits, you know, the usual stuff." His comment was met with an awkward silence.
Choso then chimed in, speculating, "Maybe it was something Kenjaku did."
Yazu disagreed, "I doubt it. He was too busy fighting to pull off something like this."
Yuta then asked, "How much memory has he lost?"
Maki explained, "It's not so much that he's lost his memory. He remembers his world championship, and he knows that Yamada died, but he thinks it was in a car accident. He believes he retired from boxing to become a movie star."
Kusakabe's brows furrowed as he pieced together the information. "So, basically, his memories from the past three years as a sorcerer have been replaced?"
Maki nodded in confirmation. "That's right," she said, her tone somber.
Kusakabe sighed, "And all this happening just when Sukuna is on the loose..."
Hiro, still trying to make sense of everything, chimed in with a hint of skepticism in his voice. "All this talk about sorcery, the King of Curses, fighting, saving the day, and some 'Culling Game'... it sounds like something out of an anime. Are you sure this isn't some kind of asylum?"
Kamo interjected, redirecting the conversation to a more pressing matter. "Then our best course of action is to focus on freeing Gojo. He can handle the rest."
Maki agreed, "Looks like this idiot won't be of much use," she said, glancing at Hiro with a mix of frustration and affection.
A few chuckles and nods of agreement filled the room. The mood, though serious, was lightened by their camaraderie and the shared understanding of the strange situation they were in.
Hiro, catching on to the mood, added with a touch of his usual bravado, "Hey, I may not remember being a sorcerer, but I'm still Hiro Takashi, the world champion. I can handle myself."
Maki rolled her eyes, "Sure, as long as you don't have to remember any spells or curses."
Mai's entrance into the room drew Hiro's attention immediately. Standing up, he flashed a charming smile and said, "Hey, didn't know there were pretty girls around here. How about grabbing a drink later?"
Mai raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Hiro's forwardness. "So he really did lose his memory?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.
Before Hiro could continue, Maki swiftly grabbed his ear and pulled him back to his seat on the sofa. "Stay put," she commanded with a mix of irritation and concern.
Momo, observing the scene, whispered to Yazu, "Looks like she's got him under control."
Yazu let out a quiet chuckle in response. Then, Inumaki unexpectedly chimed in with his usual cryptic remark, "Tuna, mayonnaise."
Hiro turned to him, misunderstanding his words and replied, "Hey buddy, I respect your opinion, but it's pretty clear that communism doesn't work."
Yazu, trying to redirect the conversation, announced, "Hey everyone, I think Yuta's back with the new members of our awesome sorcerer gang."
Yuta and Hakari made their entrance, followed by Hiromi Higuruma and Kashimo. Hiromi Higuruma, a stern-looking man with an aura of authority, was wearing a formal suit, his gaze sharp and analytical. Kashimo, on the other hand, had a more rugged appearance, with wild hair and an intense, battle-hardened expression.
Itadori greeted Higuruma with a warm smile. "Higuruma-san, it's good to see you." Higuruma returned the smile with a nod of acknowledgment.
Hakari introduced the newcomer. "This is Kashimo, a sorcerer who's been reincarnated... blah blah," he said somewhat nonchalantly.
Panda, ever the observant one, remarked, "So now we have a newly awakened sorcerer and a reincarnated one on our team. Interesting."
Hiro, still trying to make sense of everything, turned to Maki and asked with genuine curiosity, "Hey, is it normal for that panda to talk?"
Maki, slightly irritated yet amused, responded, "What's not normal is you flirting with my sister."
Hiro defensively replied, "Hey, in my defense, it was a reflex action."
Maki raised an eyebrow, "So, you've always wanted to flirt with my sister?"
"Probably," Hiro retorted, only half-serious.
Maki didn't take the joke well and swiftly hit Hiro on the head. Hiro yelped in pain and protested, "I was just kidding, damn it!"
__________
Bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, Hiro stood by the window of his room, lost in thought. The reflection of the moon on his face highlighted the confusion and turmoil within him. He pondered over his identity, questioning the reality of his last two years. Were they all a lie? What had he truly done, and what had he not? The thought of having killed Yamada, his best friend, weighed heavily on his mind. Why would he do such a thing? And Yamada killing Yina? Monks? Buddha? His mind was a whirlwind of questions with no clear answers.
Turning to the mirror, Hiro touched the scar on his neck. Maki had evaded his questions about its origin. He pulled off his shirt and stared at his reflection. His body was a canvas of scars, each one a testament to battles fought, pains endured. There were fresh bruises too, indicating recent encounters. Hiro hadn't mentioned it, but his body ached, suggesting he had been carrying these pains for quite some time.
A myriad of emotions coursed through Hiro as he looked at his reflection. He was trying to piece together the fragments of a life he couldn't fully remember, trying to understand who he was beyond the reflections and scars. The night's silence offered no answers, only the echoes of a past he was struggling to grasp. With each unanswered question, Hiro felt more lost in the labyrinth of his own mind, searching for a truth that seemed just out of reach.
Maki entered the room, and Hiro quickly turned around, flashing a grin. "Oh? Do you want some company?" he teased.
Maki replied, her tone matter-of-fact, "Mai is using my room, and the others have taken the spare ones, so I guess I have to sleep here."
"That's a shame," Hiro said, still smiling playfully.
"Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you," Maki added, looking at Hiro with a mix of concern and irritation.
Hiro, picking up on the hint, reluctantly put his shirt back on. "Well, after all, we are a couple, right?" he said with a hint of uncertainty.
Maki let out a heavy sigh. "Suppose we are. But let's just say you're a different person now, so you'll be sleeping on the floor." She tossed a pillow and a blanket at Hiro, who caught them with a look of disbelief.
"Really?" Hiro asked, his voice a mix of amusement and surprise.
Maki nodded firmly. "Yes, really. Until you remember who you are and what we are to each other, that's how it's going to be."
Hiro laid out the blanket and pillow on the floor, making a makeshift bed. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. "So, this is what it feels like to be in the doghouse, huh?"
Maki couldn't suppress a smile at his comment. "You could say that. But consider it a temporary arrangement."
As Hiro settled down on his makeshift bed, the room filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of fabric.
The room was filled with a comforting silence as both Hiro and Maki lost themselves in their thoughts, reflecting on the paths that had led them to where they were now.
Hiro, lying on his makeshift bed, realized he wasn't sleepy and decided to engage in a conversation. "Hey, Maki, tell me, who am I?" he asked, his voice curious yet uncertain.
There was a brief silence before Maki, lying on her bed and facing away, responded. "You are Hiro Takashi, a special grade sorcerer. You're strong, and everyone relies on you. The first-years admire you. You're like an immovable rock in a raging river; we cling to you so we won't be swept away. You're a good friend, a good teammate, a good boyfriend."
Hiro couldn't help but smile at her description. "I see," he said softly, "that sounds like a better life than the one I thought I lived."
Curious, Maki asked, "And what life is that?"
"I wake up with a different woman every day, a millionaire, a famous movie star, destined for greatness," Hiro shared with a hint of whimsy in his voice.
Maki let out a light laugh. "Well, that was you before you became a sorcerer."
Reflecting on her words, Hiro replied, "I'm glad to be a sorcerer then. My life sounds less empty."
Hiro, intrigued by Maki's unexpected invitation, cautiously got up from his makeshift bed on the floor. He walked over to her, the moonlight casting a gentle glow across the room, accentuating the faintest of expressions on their faces. The room was filled with a tranquil ambiance, a stark contrast to the chaos that had recently enveloped their lives.
As Hiro settled himself beside Maki on the bed, he could sense a shift in the atmosphere – a moment of vulnerability and trust. Maki's movements were deliberate and gentle as she reached for her cellphone on the nightstand, her fingers brushing against the device with a familiarity that spoke of countless similar evenings spent in each other's company.
"Professor Gojo recorded a video of your birthday," Maki said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of significance. She unlocked her phone with practiced ease and began navigating through the gallery. "You should watch it to understand who you are... or rather, what you mean to all of us."
The anticipation in the air was palpable as Maki found the video and pressed play. The phone's screen came to life, casting a soft light on their faces, illuminating their expressions – Hiro's marked by curiosity and a touch of apprehension, Maki's by a tender solemnity.
In the glow of the cellphone screen, the video begins with an energetic and joyful atmosphere. Professor Gojo, his face alight with excitement, holds the camera as he surveys the festively decorated gym. "Let's see what the guests think about the great Hiro Takashi," he says playfully.
The camera pans to Maki, who, despite her somewhat stern expression, has a glint of affection in her eyes. "Well, he's an idiot," she says. The honesty in her words, tinged with underlying warmth, brings a smile to Hiro's face.
Next up is Nanami, his usual seriousness tempered with palpable respect. "He's a great student," he states, highlighting Hiro's commitment and dedication.
Kugisaki appears next, her characteristic energy and a smile evident. "He's an awesome senpai, always looks out for us," she expresses, emphasizing Hiro's protective and mentoring role in their lives.
Yazu, with admiration in his gaze, adds, "Senpai is incredibly strong, we can always rely on him," underlining the trust Hiro inspires.
Megumi, in his calm and contemplative style, remarks, "Hiro senpai is someone I admire, he takes things seriously," acknowledging the depth and seriousness with which Hiro faces his responsibilities.
Itadori, smiling, shares, "Senpai makes delicious food, though his training sessions are tough," showing a lighter, more personal side of Hiro.
Panda and Inumaki are next. "Hiro is special in his own way," says Panda, while Inumaki simply adds, "Tuna," a cryptic but somehow fitting response.
Gojo then turns the camera to himself and sincerely says, "Hiro, you're a great guy, you're going to be very strong, you'll see," a testament to his belief in Hiro's potential.
Finally, Gojo focuses again on Maki, who softly says, "There's nothing more to say, other than you're special." Gojo prompts her to say more, but Maki, showing a hint of shyness, covers the camera with her hand, ending the video.
Hiro, watching the video, feels a mix of emotions. Each word, each expression from his friends and colleagues, reveals aspects of his life he can't remember but that resonate deeply within him.
Hiro, after watching the video, notices something about Maki. "I saw in the video you had longer hair and no burn scars. What happened?" he asks, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice.
Maki's expression turns slightly somber, reflecting a hint of painful memories. She answers calmly, "That happened in Shibuya, a few months after your birthday. It was during the incident... it was tough."
An apology wells up inside Hiro. "I'm sorry, Maki. If I had been there..." he starts, but Maki cuts him off.
"You don't need to apologize, Hiro. At that time, you were fighting Yamada. We all had our own battles to face," Maki says, her tone serene yet firm.
A lump forms in Hiro's throat as the reality of his past decisions and their consequences hits him. "It must have been hard for you," he mutters, his voice laden with a mix of sadness and respect for Maki's strength.
Hiro, after observing the people in the video, realizes there are faces he has not yet met or recognized since losing his memory. He turns to Maki with a questioning look. "Hey, who are the guy with glasses and blonde hair, the short-haired girl, and the gloomy guy with spiky hair?" he asks, his curiosity evident in his voice.
Maki hesitates for a moment, a visible lump forming in her throat as she prepares to delve into painful memories. "The blonde one is Nanami... He died in Shibuya," she starts, her voice tinged with sorrow. "The girl with short hair... That's Nobara... She also died in Shibuya..." Maki adds, a somber tone taking over.
Hiro's heart sinks with the weight of the news. These were people who, although he couldn't remember, seemed to have been important to him at some point.
"And the last one," Maki continues, "is Megumi. Sukuna has taken over his body." The words hang heavy in the air, emphasizing the gravity of the situation they are all facing.
Hiro feels a wave of impotence wash over him. The realization that individuals who had once been a significant part of his life, and who had clearly played important roles in the lives of his friends, were now either gone or in grave danger, weighs heavily on him. Despite not remembering them, the sense of loss and helplessness is palpable.
Hiro nodded in understanding, the weight of Maki's words sinking in. "I see, I'm sorry," he said, his voice reflecting a deep sense of loss and empathy.
Maki reached out, gently caressing Hiro's face. Her eyes held a warmth that seemed to pierce through the fog of his forgotten memories. "You don't have to apologize. You can't save everyone," she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and acceptance.
Their eyes locked, and in that moment, Hiro felt an undeniable warmth and connection with Maki. It was as if a part of him, buried deep within, recognized her and yearned to stay by her side forever. They leaned in slowly, their faces drawing closer, the distance between their lips narrowing.
Just as their lips were about to touch, Maki placed a hand over Hiro's mouth, stopping him gently. "I'm sorry, but I feel like I would be unfaithful to Hiro," she whispered, her voice tinged with regret.
Hiro swallowed hard, feeling a pang of sorrow mixed with understanding. He managed a small, pained smile and replied, "You're right. After all, I'm not the Hiro you admire." He stood up, returning to his makeshift bed on the floor, his heart heavy with mixed emotions.
Hiro tried to mask his sadness with a hint of arrogance, offering a wry smile. "Well, it's your loss, you know," he quipped, his voice carrying a playful tone. "You just missed your chance to kiss the most handsome man in the world."
Maki let out a small chuckle, appreciating Hiro's effort to lighten the mood. "I guess I'll have to live with that regret," she replied, her voice laced with a mixture of amusement and fondness.
Hiro, feeling a bit more at ease, playfully tossed a pillow towards Maki. "Just make sure you don't lose sleep over it," he teased, trying to bring back some normalcy to the situation.
Maki caught the pillow, smiling softly. "I'll try my best," she said, her eyes twinkling with humor. "But you know, this 'most handsome man in the world' should probably get some sleep too. Big day tomorrow, right?"
Hiro nodded, his playful demeanor fading slightly as he lay back down on his makeshift bed. "Yeah, big day," he echoed quietly, his mind still racing with thoughts and emotions.
Maki watched him for a moment, her expression softening. "Goodnight, Hiro," she said gently, turning off the light and settling back into her own bed.
"Goodnight, Maki," Hiro replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes, trying to find comfort in the darkness, his thoughts swirling around the fragments of his lost memories and the complexities of his current life.
The next morning, Hiro woke up feeling stiff all over from sleeping on the floor. He stretched to ease the discomfort, muttering to himself, "Sleeping on the ground is a nightmare." Looking around, he noticed Maki wasn't in the room, eliciting a faint sigh of disappointment.
Nevertheless, determined not to be weighed down by his situation, he rose with vigor. He slapped his cheeks as a symbolic act to awaken his spirit. "Come on, Hiro, time to face the world," he encouraged himself.
He dressed in his usual style, choosing his clothes carefully. Despite his memory loss, his fashion sense seemed intact. Once ready, he stepped out of the room with renewed resolve, prepared to take on any challenge that the day might bring. With each step, his confidence grew, ready to devour the world with his charisma and strength, regardless of what obstacles might arise.
Hiro paused outside the dining hall, crouching to fix his shoelace, lost in his own thoughts. The murmur of voices from within the hall filtered through, but Hiro's attention was only half there until he caught his own name in the conversation.
Yazu's voice, tinged with uncertainty, floated out to him. "Hey, Itadori, how about a movie after breakfast?"
Itadori's response was hesitant. "Isn't today the day they're freeing Gojo sensei?"
"Yeah, but that's not until the afternoon," Yazu replied.
Itadori's suggestion followed. "Sounds good. Should we ask Hiro senpai to join?"
There was a pause, a moment of silence that seemed to stretch. Yazu's next words came slowly, heavy with doubt. "I don't know... That's not really Hiro senpai anymore, is it? He might not be interested in hanging out with us now."
Hiro's hands stilled on his shoelace. Those words struck deeper than he expected. He was supposed to be part of this group, their 'Hiro senpai', yet now he felt like an outsider looking in. The sense of belonging he once had seemed to have slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him grasping at shadows of memories he no longer possessed.
He straightened up, a forced smile etched on his face as he pushed open the dining hall door. His steps were measured, his posture upright, but inside, Hiro was grappling with a gnawing emptiness. He was Hiro Takashi, yet he wasn't. He was a stranger in his own life, playing a role in a story he couldn't remember.
As he walked in, the chatter in the room dimmed, eyes turning towards him with a mix of curiosity and something akin to wariness. Hiro's smile remained, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He took his place at the table, the familiar faces around him suddenly feeling distant, as if a chasm had opened up between his present and his past.
Hiro's gaze swept across the table, lingering on each face. Yesterday, these people were strangers to him. Today, they felt like echoes of a life he couldn't recall, waiting for someone he wasn't sure he could ever be again.
Maki sat down beside him, her presence a silent reassurance. Panda's large frame settled across the table, an amiable smile on his face, yet there was a hint of reserve in his eyes. Inumaki, with his unique way of communicating, offered a gentle nod in Hiro's direction, a gesture that seemed both welcoming and cautious.
As breakfast progressed, conversations bubbled around Hiro, yet he felt like an island in a chatty sea. He tried to engage, to smile and nod at the right moments, but the effort felt Herculean. Each laugh, each shared glance among the others, was a reminder of the camaraderie and history he no longer shared.
He caught snippets of their discussions - plans for the day, reminiscences of past adventures, subtle references to shared experiences that he could no longer grasp. It was like watching a movie with the sound turned off; he could see the motions, the expressions, but the meaning was lost to him.
In a lull in the conversation, Hiro spoke up, his voice more tentative than he intended. "So, freeing Gojo sensei today, huh? That sounds like a big deal." His attempt to connect hung in the air, met with polite nods but lacking the spark of genuine engagement.
Maki turned to him, her expression softening. "Yeah, it's a big day. But don't worry about it, Hiro. Just take things one step at a time."
The next morning, Hiro woke up feeling stiff all over from sleeping on the floor. He stretched to ease the discomfort, muttering to himself, "Sleeping on the ground is a nightmare." Looking around, he noticed Maki wasn't in the room, eliciting a faint sigh of disappointment.
Nevertheless, determined not to be weighed down by his situation, he rose with vigor. He slapped his cheeks as a symbolic act to awaken his spirit. "Come on, Hiro, time to face the world," he encouraged himself.
He dressed in his usual style, choosing his clothes carefully. Despite his memory loss, his fashion sense seemed intact. Once ready, he stepped out of the room with renewed resolve, prepared to take on any challenge that the day might bring. With each step, his confidence grew, ready to devour the world with his charisma and strength, regardless of what obstacles might arise.
Hiro paused outside the dining hall, crouching to fix his shoelace, lost in his own thoughts. The murmur of voices from within the hall filtered through, but Hiro's attention was only half there until he caught his own name in the conversation.
Yazu's voice, tinged with uncertainty, floated out to him. "Hey, Itadori, how about a movie after breakfast?"
Itadori's response was hesitant. "Isn't today the day they're freeing Gojo sensei?"
"Yeah, but that's not until the afternoon," Yazu replied.
Itadori's suggestion followed. "Sounds good. Should we ask Hiro senpai to join?"
There was a pause, a moment of silence that seemed to stretch. Yazu's next words came slowly, heavy with doubt. "I don't know... That's not really Hiro senpai anymore, is it? He might not be interested in hanging out with us now."
Hiro's hands stilled on his shoelace. Those words struck deeper than he expected. He was supposed to be part of this group, their 'Hiro senpai', yet now he felt like an outsider looking in. The sense of belonging he once had seemed to have slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him grasping at shadows of memories he no longer possessed.
He straightened up, a forced smile etched on his face as he pushed open the dining hall door. His steps were measured, his posture upright, but inside, Hiro was grappling with a gnawing emptiness. He was Hiro Takashi, yet he wasn't. He was a stranger in his own life, playing a role in a story he couldn't remember.
As he walked in, the chatter in the room dimmed, eyes turning towards him with a mix of curiosity and something akin to wariness. Hiro's smile remained, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He took his place at the table, the familiar faces around him suddenly feeling distant, as if a chasm had opened up between his present and his past.
Hiro's gaze swept across the table, lingering on each face. Yesterday, these people were strangers to him. Today, they felt like echoes of a life he couldn't recall, waiting for someone he wasn't sure he could ever be again.
Maki sat down beside him, her presence a silent reassurance. Panda's large frame settled across the table, an amiable smile on his face, yet there was a hint of reserve in his eyes. Inumaki, with his unique way of communicating, offered a gentle nod in Hiro's direction, a gesture that seemed both welcoming and cautious.
As breakfast progressed, conversations bubbled around Hiro, yet he felt like an island in a chatty sea. He tried to engage, to smile and nod at the right moments, but the effort felt Herculean. Each laugh, each shared glance among the others, was a reminder of the camaraderie and history he no longer shared.
He caught snippets of their discussions - plans for the day, reminiscences of past adventures, subtle references to shared experiences that he could no longer grasp. It was like watching a movie with the sound turned off; he could see the motions, the expressions, but the meaning was lost to him.
In a lull in the conversation, Hiro spoke up, his voice more tentative than he intended. "So, freeing Gojo sensei today, huh? That sounds like a big deal." His attempt to connect hung in the air, met with polite nods but lacking the spark of genuine engagement.
Maki turned to him, her expression softening. "Yeah, it's a big day. But don't worry about it, Hiro. Just take things one step at a time."