Blue lightning

The sun had barely crested the horizon when Gojo's voice shattered the peace of the camp, his shout echoing off the surrounding mountains.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Time to greet the day and embrace the pain!"

Hiro jolted awake, his heart pounding and his hand reaching instinctively for his sword. It took him a moment to remember where he was, to shake off the lingering tendrils of sleep and dreams.

He had just enough time to stumble out of his sleeping bag before Gojo was there, looming over him with a manic grin.

"Up and at 'em, kid! We've got a lot of ground to cover today, and I don't mean just the literal kind."

Hiro groaned, rubbing the grit from his eyes. Every muscle in his body ached, the memory of yesterday's grueling hike still fresh in his mind.

But he pushed himself to his feet, squaring his shoulders and meeting Gojo's gaze head-on. He was here to train, to become stronger. A little soreness wasn't going to stop him.

"What's on the agenda, sensei?" he asked, his voice still rough with sleep. "More hiking? Some sparring, maybe?"

Gojo's grin widened, taking on a sharp, almost feral edge.

"Oh, we'll get to that," he said, a glint of something wild in his eye. "But first, we're going to start with a little warm-up. A light jog, just to get the blood pumping."

Hiro felt a sinking sensation in his gut. He knew Gojo's idea of a "light jog" was likely to be anything but.

He was right.

The next hour was a blur of motion and misery, of burning lungs and screaming muscles as Gojo led him on a breakneck chase through the mountains. They leaped over boulders, scrambled up scree-covered slopes, forded icy streams that left Hiro's feet numb and aching.

And all the while, Gojo kept up a steady stream of chatter, his voice maddeningly cheerful even as Hiro felt like his lungs were about to burst.

"Keep up, kid! We're just getting started!"

"Is that all you've got? I've seen grandmothers move faster than that!"

"Come on, Hiro! Embrace the burn! Love the pain!"

By the time they finally came to a stop on a narrow ridge overlooking a dizzying drop, Hiro was drenched in sweat and trembling with exhaustion. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he gulped down air.

"What... the hell... was that?" he managed to gasp out, shooting Gojo a baleful glare.

Gojo just grinned, looking infuriatingly unruffled.

"That, my young apprentice, was just the beginning. A little taste of what's to come."

He clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and sudden in the quiet of the mountains.

"And now, for the real fun! We're going to work on your stamina, your strength, your agility. All the things you'll need to be a top-tier sorcerer."

He pointed to a massive boulder near the edge of the ridge, its surface worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain.

"See that rock? I want you to pick it up and carry it to the top of that peak over there."

Hiro followed his finger, his eyes widening as he took in the sheer, towering cliff face Gojo was indicating. It had to be at least a thousand feet high, the summit lost in wisps of cloud.

"You want me to carry that boulder... up there?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone. "That's impossible!"

Gojo's grin sharpened, his eyes glinting behind his glasses.

"Impossible? No. Difficult, painful, potentially fatal? Absolutely."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur.

"But that's the point, Hiro. To push past your limits, to do the things you think you can't. To become more than you ever thought possible."

Hiro swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He looked at the boulder, at the looming cliff, at the vast, unforgiving expanse of the mountains around them.

And for a moment, he felt very small. Very weak, very human in the face of such implacable nature.

But then he thought of Maki. Of his father, his family. Of all the people counting on him, all the lives he wanted to protect.

And he felt something rising up inside him. Something hot and bright and fierce, something that felt like molten steel running through his veins.

Determination. Resolve. The unshakable will to become stronger, to be better, to never back down from a challenge.

He met Gojo's gaze, his jaw set and his eyes blazing.

"I'll do it," he said, his voice ringing with conviction. "I'll carry that boulder to the top of the mountain. And I won't use an ounce of cursed energy to do it."

Gojo's smile widened, pride and approval shining in his eyes.

"Now that's what I like to hear! Let's get to work, kid."

The rest of the day passed in a haze of sweat and strain, of aching muscles and bleeding fingers as Hiro hauled the massive boulder up the mountainside. The stone was rough and unforgiving against his skin, its weight seeming to increase with every step.

But Hiro pressed on, gritting his teeth against the pain, the exhaustion, the voice in his head that whispered for him to give up, to let go.

He wouldn't give up. He couldn't. Not when so much was riding on his success, on his strength.

So he dug deep, tapping into reserves of willpower he hadn't even known he possessed. He thought of Maki's smile, of his father's proud eyes. He thought of the future he wanted to build, the world he wanted to protect.

And step by agonizing step, he carried that boulder up the mountain. Over loose scree and jagged rock, through thorn bushes that tore at his skin and icy streams that numbed his feet.

Gojo was there every step of the way, sometimes shouting encouragement, sometimes goading Hiro with taunts and jibes. But always present, always pushing, always demanding more.

And Hiro gave it to him. Gave everything he had, everything he was. He poured his heart and soul into every movement, every breath, every scrap of determination and grit.

By the time he reached the summit, his body was trembling with exhaustion, his hands raw and bleeding. But as he stood there, the boulder at his feet and the world stretched out below him...

He felt a surge of triumph, of pride, of sheer, exhilarated joy.

He had done it. He had pushed himself beyond what he ever thought possible, had achieved something he would have once believed to be utterly impossible.

And as he stood there, the wind whipping at his hair and the sun warm on his face...

He knew that this was just the beginning. That there were greater challenges ahead, higher mountains to climb.

Gojo came to stand beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. For once, his face was serious, his eyes filled with a solemn sort of pride.

"Well done, Hiro," he said quietly. "You've taken your first step on the path to greatness. The path to becoming the strongest sorcerer of your generation."

Hiro nodded, too breathless and elated to speak. But he met Gojo's gaze, his own eyes shining with determination and resolve.

He was ready. Ready to walk this path, to embrace this destiny.

Ready to become a legend, one grueling step at a time.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun casting a golden glow over the rugged mountain landscape. But for Hiro, there was no time to admire the view. Gojo had him up and moving before the first rays had even crested the horizon, a manic grin on his face and a glint of sadistic glee in his eye.

"Rise and shine, my young apprentice!" he crowed, far too chipper for the ungodly hour. "We've got a full day ahead of us, and I don't want to waste a single minute!"

Hiro groaned, his body still aching from the previous day's exertions. But he dragged himself out of his sleeping bag, knowing better than to keep Gojo waiting.

The first order of business was a "light warm-up," which in Gojo's twisted lexicon translated to a grueling trek up and down the mountainside, with Hiro wearing his weighted vest and carrying Gojo on his back.

"Faster, Hiro!" Gojo called, his voice far too close to Hiro's ear. "Pretend I'm one of your little cursed spirits, and you're trying to catch me!"

Hiro gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he pushed himself to move faster, to ignore the burning in his lungs and the trembling in his legs.

This went on for hours, until the sun was high in the sky and Hiro felt like he might collapse at any moment. But Gojo, of course, was just getting started.

Next came the one-handed push-ups, performed in the icy rush of a mountain stream. The current battered against Hiro's body, threatening to sweep him away with every rep. But he held firm, his arm shaking with strain, his face set in a mask of determination.

"Feel that burn, Hiro!" Gojo called from the riverbank, lounging on a sun-warmed rock like a contented cat. "Embrace the pain, let it make you stronger!"

Hiro just grunted, too focused on not drowning to form a coherent response.

After that, it was on to the tree-punching. Gojo led Hiro to a dense copse of pines, their trunks thick and gnarled with age.

"I want you to hit these trees," he said, patting one of the rough-barked trunks. "Hard as you can, over and over, until I tell you to stop."

Hiro looked at him incredulously. "You want me to punch trees? Are you insane?"

Gojo's grin widened. "Quite possibly. But that's beside the point. This is about toughening you up, Hiro. About making your body into a weapon, a tool that can withstand anything."

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because out there, in the real world? The curses, the enemies you'll face? They won't hold back. They won't show mercy. And neither will I."

Hiro swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine despite the heat of the day. But he nodded, squaring his shoulders and turning to face the trees.

And so he punched. And punched, and punched, until his knuckles were raw and bleeding, until the bark was stained red with his blood. He punched until his arms felt like lead, until his vision swam and his head pounded.

But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Because every time he faltered, every time he thought he might give in to the pain and the exhaustion...

He thought of Maki. Of his father, his family. Of all the people counting on him to be strong, to be their shield against the darkness.

And so he kept punching, kept pushing, kept fighting through the agony and the fatigue.

Until finally, as the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, Gojo called a halt.

"Enough," he said, and there was a note of something like pride in his voice. "You've done well, Hiro. Better than I expected."

Hiro just nodded, too winded to speak. He slumped against one of the trees, his chest heaving and his hands throbbing.

But even through the pain, even through the exhaustion... he felt a flicker of satisfaction. Of accomplishment.

He was getting stronger. Slowly, painfully... but surely.

Gojo, meanwhile, was stripping off his shirt, revealing a physique that looked like it had been chiseled from marble.

"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Time for a little sparring. Hand-to-hand, no cursed energy. Just you and me, kid."

Hiro looked up at him, alarm bells ringing in his head. "Uh, sensei... I don't really swing that way."

Gojo threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the mountainside.

"Oh, Hiro," he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Never change."

He tossed his shirt aside, settling into a loose fighting stance.

"But seriously. Take off your shirt, and let's do this. I'll even handicap myself, make it a little fairer for you."

Hiro hesitated for a moment, eyeing Gojo warily. But the challenge in his teacher's eyes, the unspoken dare... it was too much to resist.

With a sigh, he peeled off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, wincing as the fabric pulled at his battered knuckles.

"Alright," he said, squaring up across from Gojo. "Let's dance, old man."

Gojo's grin turned feral, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

"Music to my ears, kid. Now come at me with everything you've got!"

Hiro needed no further invitation. With a roar of effort, he launched himself at Gojo, his fists flying in a barrage of punches.

But Gojo was quick, far quicker than anyone his size had a right to be. He dodged and wove, his body bending like a reed in the wind, letting Hiro's blows whistle harmlessly past him.

"Come on, Hiro!" he taunted, dancing just out of reach. "You can do better than that!"

Hiro gritted his teeth, frustration and determination warring in his chest. He redoubled his efforts, putting all his strength, all his speed into every punch.

But still, Gojo evaded him. Still, those maddening grins, those taunting jibes.

"Aim for the jaw, Hiro!" Gojo called, tapping his own chin. "Right here, nice and easy!"

Something snapped in Hiro then, a dam bursting in his mind. With a snarl of rage, he gathered every ounce of power he had, every scrap of cursed energy still lurking in his battered body.

And he launched himself at Gojo, his fist crackling with lightning, the air around him shimmering with heat.

"Don't you dare underestimate me!" he roared, his voice raw and ragged. "I am Hiro fucking Miller, and I will not be looked down on!"

His punch connected with Gojo's jaw with a sickening crunch, a shockwave of force that sent tremors through the very mountain beneath their feet.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Hiro stood there, his chest heaving, his fist still extended...

And Gojo smiled. A wide, delighted smile, even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Excellent," he said, his voice low and thrumming with power. "Just excellent, Hiro. You're learning."

And then, faster than Hiro's eyes could follow, Gojo moved. One moment he was standing there, grinning that infuriating grin...

The next, his fist was buried in Hiro's gut, a concentrated blast of cursed energy erupting from the point of impact.

Hiro felt the air leave his lungs in a rush, felt himself lifted off his feet and sent flying backwards, crashing through trees and underbrush until he finally came to rest in a crumpled heap at the base of a towering pine.

For a long moment, he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the searing agony in his abdomen, the taste of blood thick in his mouth.

Dimly, he heard Gojo's footsteps approaching, heard the low whistle of appreciation.

"Damn, kid. That was one hell of a hit you took. I might have overdone it a bit there."

Hiro wanted to laugh, to make some snarky comment about Gojo's idea of restraint. But all that came out was a pained groan, a wet, gurgling sound that brought fresh blood bubbling to his lips.

But even through the pain, even through the fog of concussion and shock...

Hiro felt a flicker of pride. Of satisfaction.

Because he had landed a hit. On Satoru fucking Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive.

Sure, it had been a cheap shot. Sure, Gojo had been holding back, had let him have that one moment of triumph.

But still. He had done it. He, Hiro Miller, had made the invincible Gojo bleed.

And if he could do that...

Then maybe, just maybe...

He had a chance. A chance to be great, to be legendary.

To be the hero he had always dreamed of being.

With a grunt of effort, Hiro pushed himself to his feet. He swayed dangerously, his vision swimming, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.

But he stayed upright. Stayed standing, even as every nerve in his body screamed in protest.

Because he was Hiro Miller.

And he would not fall.

Not now. Not ever.

Gojo stood before him, that same proud smile on his bloody lips.

"Ready for round two, kid?"

Hiro spat a glob of blood onto the ground, a feral grin spreading across his face.

"Bring it on, old man. I can do this all day."

It was a lie, of course. Hiro was at his limit, his body broken and his energy all but spent.

But in that moment, staring into Gojo's eyes...

He almost believed it. Almost believed that he was invincible, untouchable.

Weeks had passed since Hiro and Gojo had begun their training in the mountains, and Hiro's body bore the marks of their grueling regimen. Bruises mottled his skin, scars crisscrossed his knuckles, and every muscle ached with a deep, persistent soreness that never seemed to fade.

But despite the pain, despite the exhaustion that dragged at his limbs and fogged his mind, Hiro had never felt more alive. More focused, more determined.

He could feel himself getting stronger with each passing day, could sense his limits expanding, his potential unfurling like a flower in the sun.

And now, as he stood atop the mountain peak, the wind whipping at his hair and the world stretched out below him, he knew that he was ready. Ready to take the next step, to learn the technique that Gojo had promised would make him unstoppable.

"Alright, my golden boy," Gojo said, his voice cutting through the howling of the wind. "I think it's time we moved on to the real meat of your training. The technique I mentioned before."

Hiro nodded, his body thrumming with anticipation despite the aches and pains that wracked him.

Gojo smiled, a glint of something like pride in his eyes. "As you know, my technique, Blue, allows me to attract and pull in various objects, like a black hole."

He raised his hand, and Hiro watched in awe as a shimmering azure sphere coalesced in his palm, pulsing with an otherworldly light.

"By manipulating the cursed energy around me," Gojo continued, "I can create a powerful gravitational force, drawing in anything within range."

He flicked his wrist, and the blue orb shot forward, growing in size as it hurtled through the air. In its wake, trees were uprooted, boulders were pulled from the ground, and the very earth seemed to shudder and groan.

And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the orb vanished, winking out of existence like a snuffed candle.

Hiro stared, his mouth hanging open. He had seen Gojo's technique before, had even been on the receiving end of it during their sparring sessions. But to see it unleashed like this, in all its raw, terrifying power...

It was humbling. Awe-inspiring.

A reminder of just how far he still had to go.

Gojo turned to him, his expression serious. "I want you to do something similar, Hiro. But instead of physical objects, I want you to attract energy. Specifically, electrical energy."

Hiro frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Electrical energy? But where would I find that out here?"

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, my young apprentice. Electricity is everywhere, if you know where to look."

He gestured to the sky above, where dark clouds were gathering on the horizon.

"In the lightning that splits the heavens during a storm. In the static that crackles in the air before a thunderclap."

He pointed to the ground beneath their feet, to the rough, rocky soil.

"In the very earth we stand on, where countless ions and particles dance and collide in an eternal, invisible ballet."

Hiro's eyes widened, understanding dawning. "You're saying... I can draw on that energy? Pull it into myself, like you do with Blue?"

Gojo nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Exactly. Your cursed technique already allows you to generate and manipulate electricity. This is just taking it to the next level."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, intense murmur.

"Imagine it, Hiro. The power of a lightning storm, the energy of the very planet itself... all at your fingertips. All yours to command."

Hiro felt a shiver run down his spine, a thrill of excitement and trepidation. The idea was intoxicating, exhilarating...

And utterly terrifying.

But he pushed down the fear, the doubt. Squared his shoulders and met Gojo's gaze head-on.

"Alright," he said, his voice steady and sure. "Tell me what I need to do."

Gojo's smile widened, a fierce, approving thing. "First, you need to reach out with your senses. Feel the energy around you, the currents and eddies of electricity that flow through the air and the earth."

Hiro closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration. At first, he felt nothing. Just the wind on his face, the rough stone beneath his feet.

But then, gradually... he began to sense it. A tingling on his skin, a buzzing in his bones. The faint, almost imperceptible hum of energy, of power.

"Good," Gojo murmured, his voice seeming to come from far away. "Now, draw on that energy. Pull it into yourself, let it fill you up."

Hiro took a deep breath, imagining invisible tendrils of electricity flowing into him, suffusing his body with crackling, sizzling power.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. A rush of heat and light and pure, unadulterated energy, surging through his veins like liquid fire.

He gasped, his eyes flying open, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"That's it," Gojo said, his voice tight with excitement. "You're doing it, Hiro. Now, focus that energy. Shape it, mold it to your will."

Hiro gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his brow as he struggled to control the raging torrent inside him. It was like trying to hold back a tidal wave, like trying to contain a nuclear explosion in the palm of his hand.

But slowly, painfully... he began to feel it taking shape. Began to feel the crackling, seething mass of electricity coalescing, condensing into a single, pulsing point of light.

With a shout of effort, Hiro thrust his hand forward, his fingers splayed wide.

"Enhanced technique!" he roared, his voice raw and ragged. "Blue Lightning!"

A sphere of pure, blindingly bright energy burst from his palm, rocketing forward with a sound like a thousand thunderclaps.

For a moment, Hiro felt a surge of triumph, of elation. He had done it. He had created his own version of Gojo's technique, had harnessed the power of the heavens themselves.

But then, as quickly as it had appeared... the sphere flickered and died, fizzling out like a dud firework.

Hiro stared at his hand, his mouth falling open in shock and disappointment.

Behind him, Gojo sighed, shaking his head.

"Enhanced technique?" he said, a wry note in his voice. "More like disappointing technique."

Hiro flushed, shame and frustration welling up in his chest. He had been so close. So damn close.

But Gojo just clapped a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring.

"Don't worry, kid. Rome wasn't built in a day, and new techniques aren't mastered in an afternoon."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"But I'll tell you what. Until you can pull off that move consistently, no food or water for you. Consider it motivation."

Hiro gaped at him, horror and disbelief warring on his face. "You... you can't be serious."

Gojo just laughed, settling himself cross-legged on the ground.

"Oh, I'm deadly serious. And when you do manage to get it right... then we can move on to the technique you really want to learn."

Hiro's eyebrows shot up, surprise and curiosity momentarily overriding his indignation.

"You know about that?" he asked, his voice cautious.

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Of course I know. You want to flood your body with electrical energy, to move as fast as lightning itself. It's an interesting idea, I'll give you that."

His expression turned serious, his gaze boring into Hiro's.

"But it's also incredibly risky. The kind of technique that could easily kill you if you're not careful."

Hiro swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine. But he met Gojo's stare unflinchingly, his jaw set in a stubborn line.

"I know the risks," he said quietly. "But I'm willing to take them. I have to get stronger, sensei. Strong enough to protect the people I care about."

For a long moment, Gojo just looked at him, his expression unreadable behind his ever-present sunglasses.

Then, slowly... he smiled. A small, almost proud smile, tinged with something like understanding.

"Alright then," he said, leaning back on his hands. "Show me what you've got, kid. Show me that you've got the guts, the determination, to master this technique."

Hiro nodded, turning back to face the open expanse of sky and mountain.

He closed his eyes, reaching out once more for the thrumming, pulsing energy that surrounded him.

Gojo's voice cut through Hiro's concentration, startling him out of his focused trance. "By the way," the older sorcerer said casually, "you should try to form two types of energy when you use this technique."

Hiro frowned, wiping sweat from his brow as he turned to face his teacher. "Two types? Why?"

Gojo grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "To create magnetism, of course! Positive and negative. It'll attract more energy, and when it explodes, it'll generate a natural magnetic field... or at least, that's my theory."

Hiro couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Nice theory, sensei. I'll give it a shot."

Gojo's expression turned serious, his gaze boring into Hiro's. "If my calculations are correct, your attack at full power - say, in a city, drawing from power lines, cars, and other sources - could potentially destroy half of Tokyo. That's why it's crucial that you learn to control how much energy you absorb."

Hiro swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine at the thought of such devastation. But a part of him, a small, dark part, couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the idea of wielding such power.

"Afraid I might dethrone you, sensei?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

Gojo threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the mountainside. "On the contrary, my young apprentice! If you master this technique, you'll be at the level of a special grade cursed spirit. A weak one, granted, but still."

His expression turned thoughtful, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "Of course, for it to reach that level of effectiveness, a lot of factors need to align. It's not just about mastering the technique, but expanding and improving it over time. But that's something you'll learn with experience, with years of practice."

Hiro nodded, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "Alright then. Let's get back to training."

Weeks turned into months as Hiro threw himself into mastering the Blue Lightning technique. He pushed himself to his limits and beyond, barely eating or drinking as he focused all his energy on harnessing the power that crackled in the air around him.

Late one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars began to peek out in the darkening sky, Hiro found himself on the phone with Maki, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and hunger.

"I swear, I haven't had a proper meal in weeks," he groaned, his free hand pressed against his growling stomach. "Gojo's got me on this insane training regimen. Says I can't eat or drink until I master this new move."

Maki's laughter filtered through the speaker, warm and familiar. "If that were true, you'd be dead by now, idiot."

Hiro chuckled, leaning back against a tree trunk. "Nah, he gives me the bare minimum to survive. I think he underestimated how long it would take me to get this down. I'm starving, Maki."

"Well, that's what you get for being so cocky," Maki teased, but there was an undercurrent of fondness in her voice.

Hiro grinned, his chest warming at the sound. "Yeah, but I'm your cocky idiot, right?"

There was a pause, a beat of silence. Then, softly: "Yeah. I guess you are."

Hiro's heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. He'd known, on some level, that his feelings for Maki went beyond simple friendship or attraction. But to hear her say it, to confirm that this thing between them was real, was mutual...

It was everything.

"Hey," he said suddenly, a thought occurring to him. "Winter's coming up, and with it, Christmas. What should we do? You know, as a... as a couple?"

He held his breath, waiting for Maki's response. They'd never put a label on what they were, never defined the boundaries of their relationship.

But now, with miles between them and the weight of their shared future hanging in the balance...

It felt important. Necessary, even.

"Hmm," Maki mused, and Hiro could practically see her tapping her chin in thought. "I don't know. What do couples usually do for Christmas?"

Hiro's heart was pounding, his palms sweating against the phone. "So... we are a couple, then?"

Maki's voice was deadly serious, a hint of warning in her tone. "If we're not, I'll kill you myself."

Hiro laughed, relief and joy bubbling up in his chest. "Alright, alright! We're a couple. Officially."

He could hear the smile in Maki's voice as she replied. "Good. I'll ask Panda for ideas. He's surprisingly romantic, for a stuffed animal."

Just then, Gojo's voice rang out across the training ground, interrupting their moment.

"Come on, golden boy! Sun's going down, and I want to get a few more reps in before it gets too cold!"

Hiro sighed, reluctance heavy in his tone. "I gotta go, Maki. Talk to you later?"

"Yeah, of course. Take care of yourself out there, okay?"

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

As the call ended, Hiro stared at his phone for a long moment, a silly grin plastered across his face. Maki. His girlfriend.

It didn't feel real.

But it was. And he was going to do everything in his power to be worthy of her, to be the kind of man she deserved.

Starting with mastering this damn technique.

He pushed himself to his feet, squaring his shoulders as he turned to face Gojo. The older sorcerer was watching him with a knowing smirk, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Alright, loverboy. Enough canoodling with your lady friend. It's time to get serious."

Hiro rolled his eyes, but he couldn't quite suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Let's do this."

He closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses to feel the energy that swirled around him. The static in the air, the ions in the earth, the very molecules that made up the world.

He drew them in, feeling them crackle and surge beneath his skin. Positive, negative, two forces in opposition, in harmony.

Magnetism. Polarity. The push and pull of the universe itself.

Slowly, painstakingly, he began to shape that energy. To mold it to his will, to bend it to his purpose.

He felt it gather in his palm, a pulsing, seething ball of pure, raw power.

And then, with a shout that shook the very heavens...

He released it.

"Cursed Rotation Technique: Blue Lightning!"

The sphere rocketed forward, a blinding flash of azure light that seared the eyes and set the air humming with electricity.

As it flew, it drew in more and more energy, growing larger and brighter with each passing second. Trees were uprooted, boulders shattered, the very ground trembling beneath the force of its passage.

And then, with a deafening boom that echoed for miles...

It struck the side of the mountain, a massive explosion of crackling, sizzling energy that lit up the night sky like a second sun.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. And then, with a low, groaning rumble...

The mountain began to crumble, massive chunks of rock and debris pulled towards the point of impact as if drawn by an impossibly strong magnet.

Hiro watched in awe, his heart racing and his body trembling with the aftershocks of the technique. He had done it. He had mastered Blue Lightning, had proven himself worthy of Gojo's teachings.

But even as triumph surged through him, a sense of unease prickled at the back of his mind. The destruction he had wrought, the sheer, terrifying power he now held in his hands...

It was both exhilarating and humbling. A reminder of the responsibility that came with such strength, the need for control and restraint.

Beside him, Gojo let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Damn, kid. That was pretty impressive. Looks like you've finally got the hang of it."

Hiro nodded, too breathless and elated to form a coherent response. He had done it. He had taken the first step on the path to becoming a true legend, a sorcerer of unparalleled might.

"You've earned yourself a feast, kid," Gojo said, a grin spreading across his face. "Lucky for you, I caught a tasty bear this morning. You get the fire going, and I'll carve up the meat."

Hiro nodded eagerly, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten at the prospect of a proper meal. He set about gathering kindling and stoking the flames, his movements quick and efficient after months of practice.

Before long, the fire was roaring merrily, casting dancing shadows across the rocky ground. Gojo returned with a large hunk of bear meat, skewered on a makeshift spit. He set it over the flames to roast, the sizzling and popping of the fat making Hiro's stomach clench with hunger.

As they waited for the meat to cook, Gojo leaned back on his hands, his gaze thoughtful as he stared into the flames.

"By the way," he said casually, "about that speed technique you've been working on. The key is to distribute the electricity evenly throughout your body. Your nervous system, your muscle fibers, even using your bones as conductors. And you have to do it without fear, so your body can adapt to the surge of power, even if only momentarily."

Hiro listened intently, absently tearing off a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth. The flavor exploded on his tongue, rich and gamey and utterly delicious.

"Of course," Gojo continued, "you can't exceed the time limit. Which, by my estimates, won't be more than a couple of seconds."

Hiro's eyebrows shot up, surprise and disappointment warring on his face. "That's it? Two seconds?"

Gojo chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Hiro's hair. "Think about it, kid. You'll be moving at the speed of lightning. Practically the speed of light. Your body can only handle that kind of strain for so long before it starts to break down."

Hiro nodded slowly, understanding dawning. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. Even with all his training, all his newfound strength, he was still human. Still bound by the limits of flesh and bone.

But that didn't mean he couldn't push those limits. Couldn't strive to be faster, stronger, better than any sorcerer who had come before.

He took another bite of meat, chewing thoughtfully as he stared into the dancing flames. There was so much still to learn, so many techniques to master. But for now, in this moment...

He was content. Happy, even. Here, in the wilderness, with nothing but the stars above and the fire at his feet and the man who had become more than just a teacher, but a friend.

A mentor. A guide on the path to greatness.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, sensei," Hiro said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Can I ask you something? Something not related to jujutsu, I mean."

Gojo smiled, his eyes crinkling behind his ever-present sunglasses. "Of course, my young padawan. What's on your mind?"

Hiro took a deep breath, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure. This was uncharted territory for him, asking for advice about something so personal.

But if he couldn't trust Gojo, who could he trust?

"It's about Maki," he said finally, his cheeks warming in a way that had nothing to do with the fire. "And Christmas. I want to do something special for her, but I'm not sure what. I mean, all the restaurants will be booked solid, and I'm not exactly the most romantic guy in the world, and—"

He cut himself off, feeling foolish and tongue-tied. But Gojo just chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Ah, young love," he said, a teasing note in his voice. "It's adorable, really."

Hiro scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up," he muttered, ducking his head to hide his burning face.

Gojo just laughed, the sound warm and rich in the cool night air. "In all seriousness, though," he said, his tone turning thoughtful, "I think something simple and heartfelt would be best. A home-cooked meal, maybe. Some small, meaningful gifts. The kind of things that show you've been paying attention, that you care about her interests and passions."

Hiro nodded slowly, turning the words over in his mind. It made sense, in a way. Maki wasn't the type to be impressed by grand gestures or expensive presents. She valued authenticity, sincerity. The kind of things that couldn't be bought or faked.

"Thanks, sensei," he said softly, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "I really appreciate the advice."

Gojo waved a hand dismissively, but there was a pleased gleam in his eye. "Don't mention it, kid. I'm just glad you feel comfortable coming to me with this kind of stuff. It's not every day a student asks me for love advice."

Hiro grinned, feeling a sudden rush of affection for the man beside him. For all his eccentricities, all his maddening quirks and cryptic lessons...

Gojo was more than just a teacher. More than just a mentor or a friend.

He was family. The kind of family Hiro had always longed for, always needed.

The kind of family he would fight for, die for.

The kind of family he would move heaven and earth to protect.

"You know," he said impulsively, the words spilling out before he could stop them, "we should do this again sometime. Not the training, I mean. The camping. The hanging out."

Gojo's eyebrows shot up, surprise and something like delight flickering across his face. "Really? You'd want to do that?"

Hiro shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "Sure, why not? I mean, it's been fun, right? Getting away from it all, roughing it in the wilderness. Just two handsome guys, bonding over bear meat and life lessons."

He said it jokingly, but there was a kernel of truth to the words. A sincerity that even he couldn't quite hide.

Because as much as he loved the thrill of the fight, the rush of power that came with mastering a new technique...

There was something special about moments like this. Quiet moments, simple moments. Moments of connection and camaraderie, of shared laughter and easy silence.

Moments that reminded him that he was more than just a sorcerer, more than just a weapon or a tool.

He was human. Flawed and fragile and full of hopes and dreams and fears.

And that, in the end, was what made him strong. What made him fight, what made him strive to be better.