Hiro's limits

It was March, and spring had arrived, painting the world in vibrant colors and filling the air with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Hiro found himself lounging beneath the shade of a sturdy oak tree, its leafy canopy providing a welcome respite from the gentle warmth of the sun. The young student's blond hair gleamed in the dappled light, and his blue eyes were closed in relaxation, his hands folded behind his head as he savored the peaceful moment.

The tranquility was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and Hiro cracked open one eye to see the familiar figure of Satoru Gojo, his eccentric mentor, sauntering towards him. Gojo's signature smile was plastered across his face, his eyes hidden behind his ever-present blindfold.

"My golden boy!" Gojo called out, his voice filled with cheerful enthusiasm. "How does it feel to be a second-year student now?"

Hiro closed his eye again, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Normal," he replied, his tone nonchalant.

Gojo laughed, the sound ringing out through the peaceful surroundings. "Don't you want to come and welcome the first-years?" he asked, his head tilted to the side.

Hiro sighed, shifting slightly against the rough bark of the tree. "It's just that idiot Fushiguro and the girl you mentioned, right? Has she arrived yet?" he asked, his voice tinged with slight curiosity.

Gojo's grin widened, and he wagged a finger at Hiro. "If Maki heard you say that, she'd kill you," he teased.

Hiro rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips at the mention of his girlfriend. Gojo's expression suddenly turned more serious, and he leaned in closer to Hiro, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"Actually, my golden boy, I have a mission that only you can handle," he said, his tone filled with mysterious importance.

Hiro's interest was piqued, and he sat up straighter, his eyes now fully open and focused on Gojo. "I'm listening," he said, his voice cautious but curious.

Gojo nodded, his smile returning. "You see, today I'm sending Megumi to search for a cursed object, one of Sukuna's fingers, in a high school in Sendai city. However, we have reports of another sighting of a finger, just outside the city, in a cave in the mountains."

Hiro frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why me?" he asked, a hint of petulance creeping into his tone. "Can't you send someone else to fetch it?"

Gojo shrugged, his smile turning apologetic. "Well, everyone else is busy, so I was wondering if you could take care of it?"

Hiro sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Fine, I guess I can," he said, pushing himself to his feet and brushing off his pants.

Gojo beamed, his smile nearly blinding in its intensity. "I've sent the coordinates to your phone," he said, waving his own device in the air.

Hiro nodded, pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen. "Alright," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'll take care of it."

A few hours later, Hiro found himself in the mountainous area outside of Sendai, surrounded by towering trees and lush greenery. The air was cool and crisp, and the sound of birdsong filled the air, a stark contrast to the bustling city he had left behind.

Hiro yawned, his eyes scanning the area for the cave Gojo had mentioned. "Stupid assistants," he grumbled, kicking a small rock out of his path. "Everyone's busy, and no one could give me a ride. I had to take the train, get a taxi, and walk like an idiot. I should really get my student license."

Finally, he spotted the entrance to the cave, a dark opening in the rocky face of the mountain. Hiro stepped inside, using his own electricity to illuminate his path, the crackling blue light casting eerie shadows on the damp walls.

As he walked deeper into the cave, Hiro suddenly stopped, his senses on high alert. "I feel a malicious presence," he muttered, his eyes darting around the narrow space. "It must be nearby."

He scanned the area, his gaze finally falling to the ground beneath his feet. "It must be here," he said, crouching down and beginning to dig with his hands.

"I should have brought a shovel," he complained, his fingers scraping against the hard-packed earth. Finally, his efforts were rewarded as he unearthed a small wooden box. Hiro opened it, revealing a finger wrapped in a strange, ritual-like bandage.

Hiro picked up the finger, examining it closely as he made his way out of the cave. "So, this is one of the famous fingers of Sukuna," he mused, his voice filled with a mix of awe and arrogance. "It doesn't seem like much. I bet I could defeat him easily."

As Hiro stepped out of the cave, he suddenly froze, his eyes widening in shock. There, standing before him, was a curse, its single eye glaring balefully at him from its volcano-like head. Hiro stared at the creature, his mind racing as he tried to assess the situation.

"Oh, a curse," he said, his voice dripping with false bravado. "Sorry, pal, today's not your lucky day. I'll kill you without any fuss."

The curse spoke, its voice deep and menacing. "Brat, you'd better hand over that finger, and maybe I'll let you go."

Hiro's eyes widened even further, his mouth falling open in surprise. A talking curse? He had never encountered such a thing before. Little did he know, the curse standing before him was none other than Jogo, a powerful and feared entity.

Hiro quickly regained his composure, a smirk spreading across his face. "Eh? You can talk? You're like a parrot," he taunted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

But before Hiro could finish his sentence, Jogo moved with incredible speed, snatching the finger from Hiro's grasp. In the blink of an eye, the curse extended its hand, flames beginning to erupt from its palm.

Hiro's instincts kicked in, and he leaped back, narrowly avoiding the searing heat. His heart raced, and he breathed heavily, genuinely surprised by Jogo's abilities.

"This guy... he's really fast, much faster than Naobito," Hiro thought, his mind whirling as he tried to formulate a plan.

Jogo sneered, his single eye glinting with malice. "Oh? You're quick, kid. I'll give you credit for that. But you're still years away from matching my speed."

Hiro held up the finger of Sukuna, a triumphant grin on his face. Jogo's eye widened in shock. When had Hiro managed to snatch it back? In the span of a single second, Hiro had taken the finger and regained possession of it.

Hiro waved the finger tauntingly, his voice filled with cocky confidence. "Sorry, ugly, if you want this, you'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."

Jogo, with lightning-fast reflexes, surged forward and delivered a devastating knee strike to Hiro's stomach. The young Jujutsu sorcerer gasped as the air was forcefully expelled from his lungs, the impact causing him to double over in pain. Before Hiro could even catch his breath, Jogo followed up with a crushing blow to his jaw, sending shockwaves of agony through his skull.

Hiro, refusing to be outdone, retaliated with an electrically charged punch aimed directly at Jogo's face. The curse, caught off guard by the crackling energy, stumbled back a few steps, momentarily stunned by the attack. Hiro, despite the throbbing pain in his jaw, managed a cocky grin and taunted, "You'll have to hit harder than that."

Internally, however, Hiro's thoughts were racing. "Damn, this thing is strong," he mused, wincing as he massaged his aching jawline. "If I hadn't taken so many punches from Gojo during training, I'd probably be down for the count already." Putting on a brave face, Hiro declared, "I've got a jaw made of iron."

Jogo, his single eye glinting with malicious amusement, retorted, "Oh, really?"

What followed was a blinding display of speed and ferocity. Jogo pursued Hiro relentlessly, his movements a blur as he unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks. Hiro, his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through his veins, pushed himself to the limit, barely managing to keep pace with the monstrous curse.

Blows rained down upon Hiro from every angle, each one more punishing than the last. A right hook caught him squarely on the cheekbone, causing stars to explode behind his eyes. A roundhouse kick slammed into his ribs, eliciting a sickening crack and sending waves of agony rippling through his torso. Hiro's body was battered and bruised, his once-pristine uniform now torn and stained with blood.

Despite his best efforts, Hiro found himself struggling to match Jogo's inhuman speed and strength. His movements grew sluggish, his reactions a fraction of a second too slow. Jogo, sensing his opponent's weakness, pressed his advantage, raining down blow after blow upon the beleaguered young sorcerer.

After what felt like an eternity of punishment, the two combatants finally separated, both panting heavily from the exertion. Hiro, his chest heaving and sweat pouring down his face, mentally assessed his situation. "I can't keep up with him," he admitted to himself, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Determined to turn the tide of battle, Hiro summoned his remaining strength and called out, "Enhanced Ritual: Blue Lightning!" A crackling sphere of electricity began to form in his hands, growing larger and more intense with each passing second. Jogo, not to be outdone, brought his own hands together, a swirling orb of flames taking shape between his palms.

With a primal yell, Hiro hurled his electric attack forward, the ball of lightning rapidly expanding as it hurtled towards its target. Jogo, a wicked grin etched upon his face, launched his own fiery projectile to meet Hiro's head-on. The two elements collided with a deafening explosion, fire and electricity clashing in a dazzling display of raw power.

Nearby trees were ripped from the ground, their trunks and branches sucked towards Hiro's magnetic attack like moths to a flame. However, as they neared the epicenter of the clash, Jogo's searing flames reduced them to nothing more than piles of ash, their very essence consumed by the all-consuming inferno.

As the struggle between the two forces intensified, it became clear that Jogo's flames were gaining the upper hand. The fire slowly but surely pushed back against the crackling electricity, inching closer and closer to Hiro with each passing moment. The young sorcerer, his eyes wide with desperation, realized that if he were to be hit by the oncoming blaze, his life would be forfeit.

In a last-ditch effort to avoid certain death, Hiro turned his focus inward, channeling every ounce of his remaining energy into activating his ultimate technique: Divine Speed. In an instant, his body surged with an otherworldly power, his movements becoming a blur as he pushed himself to the very limits of human perception.

Moving at a speed that rivaled the very light itself, Hiro managed to evade Jogo's attack by the narrowest of margins. Seizing the momentary opening, he launched himself at the cursed spirit, unleashing a devastating combination of attacks. An uppercut slammed into Jogo's chin, snapping his head back with brutal force. A hook crashed into the side of his skull, sending shockwaves reverberating through his very being. A knee strike drove the air from Jogo's lungs, doubling him over in agony.

Hiro's onslaught was relentless, his fists and feet a blur as he rained down blow after blow upon his stunned opponent. Finally, he managed to grab hold of Jogo's arms, his grip like a vice as he held the curse in place. As the effects of Divine Speed began to fade, Hiro realized he had only used a single second of the two-second limit he could maintain the technique.

Jogo, his mind reeling from the unexpected assault, struggled to comprehend what had just transpired. His body ached with the accumulated damage of Hiro's lightning-fast strikes, his arms now trapped in the young sorcerer's unyielding grasp. Hiro, a look of grim determination etched upon his face, declared, "I'm going to fry you, you damn cyclops."

Electricity began to crackle and surge through Hiro's hands, the searing energy coursing through Jogo's body like a raging current. The curse howled in agony as the lightning danced across his skin, his arms blistering and charring under the intense heat. In a desperate bid for freedom, Jogo opened his palms and unleashed a torrent of flames directly at Hiro's face.

Hiro, acting on pure instinct, released his hold on Jogo and managed to dodge the brunt of the attack. However, the cursed spirit's speed proved too great, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the young sorcerer, his hand outstretched. Jogo's fingers brushed against Hiro's eye, and in that instant, the world erupted into searing, unbearable pain.

Hiro's screams echoed through the forest as the flames consumed his eye, the delicate skin and tissue melting away under the relentless onslaught. His hair, once a vibrant golden hue, was reduced to a smoldering mess of charred strands. The agony was all-consuming, threatening to drag Hiro down into the depths of unconsciousness.

Through the haze of pain, Hiro saw Jogo preparing for the final blow, his hand raised to deliver the killing strike. However, in that moment of desperation, Hiro's instincts took over. With the last of his strength, he channeled his remaining energy into one final Blue Lightning attack, the crackling orb of electricity forming in his hand with blinding speed.

Jogo, caught off guard by the sudden counter, barely had time to raise his arms in defense as the electric sphere slammed into him at point-blank range. The force of the impact sent the cursed spirit flying backward, his body engulfed in a dazzling display of blue lightning. The attack tore through the surrounding trees, ripping them from the ground and leaving a gaping crater in its wake.

Hiro, his hand clutching his ruined eye, collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "Damn it," he thought, his mind clouded with exhaustion and pain. "That Blue Lightning was way too weak. I'm completely drained. But there's no way he survived that... right?"

As if in answer to his unspoken question, a figure emerged from the smoke and debris, its silhouette growing clearer with each step. Jogo, his body a mass of charred flesh and exposed muscle, limped forward, his arms hanging limply at his sides. The curse's regenerative abilities had already begun to take effect, the blackened skin sloughing off to reveal new, unblemished tissue beneath.

"You damn brat," Jogo snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "That's the last time you'll ever mock me." As he spoke, his arms started to regenerate, the burned flesh knitting itself back together in a grotesque display of supernatural healing.

Hiro, his face etched with a mixture of pain and defiance, clicked his tongue in frustration. With his one remaining eye, he fixed Jogo with a steely gaze, his hand rising to make a beckoning gesture. "Come on, lava head," he taunted, his voice hoarse but filled with determination. "Let's dance."

Jogo, his single eye narrowing, fixed Hiro with a look of contempt. "No, boy," he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "No more dancing. I'm tired of playing with you. It was amusing for a warm-up, to see the level of sorcery that exists in this world." He studied Hiro intently, his gaze piercing through the young sorcerer's battered form. "What's your name?"

Hiro, despite the pain coursing through his body and the searing agony of his ruined eye, managed a cocky grin. "Hiro," he declared, his voice filled with bravado. "Hiro Miller."

Jogo nodded, a flicker of begrudging respect crossing his face. "You're strong, I'll give you that. But at the end of the day, you're still just a human. You've reached your limit, and your power is far beneath mine. You managed to surprise me, yes, but it's not enough."

Hiro, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, scoffed at Jogo's words. "You talk too much," he gasped, his voice strained but defiant. "We're only halfway through this fight."

Internally, however, Hiro's thoughts were in turmoil. "Am I going to die here?" he wondered, a sliver of fear creeping into his mind. But just as quickly as the doubt had surfaced, he pushed it aside. "No, I'll defeat him. I have to."

Jogo, sensing Hiro's wavering resolve, smiled cruelly. "No, this is the end." He brought his hands together, his eye glinting with malicious intent. "Domain Expansion," he intoned, his voice echoing with an otherworldly power. "Iron Mountain Coffin."

Hiro's eyes widened in horror as he watched darkness slowly engulf the surrounding area, the very fabric of reality warping and twisting under Jogo's influence. The landscape began to change, the once-familiar forest giving way to a nightmarish realm of Jogo's creation.

In that moment, Hiro knew he had only one chance for survival. Gathering the last dregs of electricity within his body, he activated his technique once more: Divine Speed. With a surge of power, Hiro's movements accelerated to near-light speed, his body becoming a blur as he pushed himself to the very limits of human perception.

As the Domain Expansion closed in around him, Hiro spotted a small opening, a fleeting gap in the encroaching darkness. With less than a second remaining in his technique's duration, he focused all his energy into one final burst of speed. In a flash of blinding light, Hiro shot through the narrow opening, his body hurtling through space at an incomprehensible velocity.

The sheer force of Hiro's movement left a trail of destruction in his wake. Trees were uprooted and sent flying, their trunks splintering into countless fragments as they were caught in the shockwave of his passage. The ground beneath his feet cracked and shattered, deep fissures snaking out from the point of his departure. The very air itself seemed to ignite, superheated by the friction of his body cutting through it at impossible speeds.

In the span of a single heartbeat, Hiro found himself several kilometers away from Jogo's Domain Expansion, the curse's malevolent presence now a distant memory. He collapsed onto the hard surface of the highway, his body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Hiro clutched at his ruined eye, a scream of agony tearing itself from his throat. The pain was unbearable, a searing, white-hot agony that consumed his every thought. He pounded his fist against the pavement, his knuckles splitting open as he vented his frustration and anger.

For the first time in his life, Hiro had been forced to flee from a battle. The realization hit him like a physical blow, his pride and ego shattered by the humiliating retreat. He had always believed that he would rather die than run away, that surrender was never an option. But in that moment, faced with the overwhelming might of Jogo's Domain Expansion, Hiro had felt something he had never experienced before: fear.

The terror of his own mortality had gripped him, the primal instinct for self-preservation overriding his stubborn resolve. And now, as he lay on the cold, hard ground, his body broken and his spirit crushed, Hiro felt a deep sense of shame and self-loathing. The fact that he had been vulnerable, that he had allowed fear to control him, gnawed at his very core.

Slowly, painfully, Hiro managed to regain some semblance of composure. With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cellphone. He dialed Gojo's number, his fingers trembling as he held the device to his ear.

Gojo answered with his usual cheerful demeanor, his voice filled with excitement. "My golden boy! Did you get the finger?"

Hiro, his voice barely above a whisper, managed to choke out a response. "I need help. Can someone come pick me up? I'll send you the coordinates by message."

Without waiting for a reply, Hiro ended the call. He quickly typed out his location and hit send, the simple act draining what little strength he had left. As the phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground beside him, Hiro felt the world around him begin to fade.

The last thing he saw before unconsciousness claimed him was the vast expanse of the sky above, the stars twinkling in the inky darkness like distant, uncaring observers. And then, mercifully, the pain and the shame and the fear all melted away, replaced by the gentle embrace of oblivion.

In the depths of his unconscious mind, Hiro found himself engulfed in an all-consuming darkness. He looked around, his eyes straining to pierce the inky blackness that surrounded him. In the distance, he spotted a familiar figure, the unmistakable silhouette of Gojo Satoru, his back turned towards him.

Hiro's heart leapt with a sudden surge of hope. "I'll catch up to him!" he thought, his mind racing with determination. He broke into a run, his feet pounding against the unseen ground as he called out to his mentor. "Sensei!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty void.

But no matter how fast he ran, no matter how desperately he pushed himself forward, Gojo remained frustratingly out of reach. If anything, the distance between them seemed to grow with each passing second, Gojo's form receding further and further into the darkness.

Suddenly, three figures materialized before Hiro, their forms taking shape from the shadows themselves. Naoya, Suguru Geto, and the curse he had fought stood in his path, their faces twisted into cruel, mocking smiles. Hiro tried to push past them, to continue his pursuit of Gojo, but found himself unable to move, his body frozen in place.

Frustration and despair welled up inside him, and he let out an anguished cry. "Why?" he screamed, his voice raw with emotion. "Why can't I reach him?" He glared at the trio blocking his way, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why am I not stronger than you?"

The words tore themselves from his throat, a confession of his deepest insecurities. "Why am I not strong enough?" he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of his own perceived inadequacy.

With a gasp, Hiro's eyes snapped open, his body jolting upright in a cold sweat. He looked around wildly, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Slowly, the familiar walls of the school infirmary came into focus, the sterile white tiles and crisp, clean sheets a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness of his dream.

Instinctively, Hiro's hand flew to his face, his fingers tentatively exploring the bandage that covered his left eye. The touch sent a dull throb of pain through his skull, a reminder of the brutal battle he had endured.

"Finally awake, my golden boy?" a familiar voice called out, the playful tone instantly recognizable as Gojo's.

Hiro turned to see his mentor seated in the chair beside his bed, his ever-present smile firmly in place. "What happened?" Hiro asked, his voice hoarse and weak.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head. "We found you unconscious in the middle of the highway. You've been out for two days."

Hiro's mind raced, fragments of memories slowly piecing themselves together. "My eye..." he murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of the bandage that concealed his left eye from view.

Gojo's smile softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. "Don't worry, Shoko did an excellent job. She managed to save your eye. You should have seen her, she was so worried about you. Kept saying 'my boy, my boy' over and over again."

He chuckled at the memory, but his expression quickly turned more serious. "The scar, though... I'm afraid that's permanent. Shoko knows how much you care about your appearance, and she did everything she could, but there was only so much she could do."

Hiro turned to look at his reflection in the window, his right eye widening as he took in the bandage that now covered the left side of his face. A lump formed in his throat, a mixture of gratitude and bitterness. "I'm truly thankful for everything she did," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo nodded, his gaze searching Hiro's face. "So, what happened out there?"

Silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of the question pressing down on Hiro's shoulders. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "A curse. Special grade. It was going for Sukuna's finger."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his expression one of surprise. "A special grade curse? And it was going for the finger?"

Hiro nodded, a shudder running through his body at the memory. "That thing, Sensei... it could talk. Perfectly. It was fast. Powerful. And it knew how to fight."

Gojo leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Faster than you?"

Hiro nodded again, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. "And it had a Domain Expansion. I barely managed to escape."

Gojo's expression turned thoughtful, his brow furrowing behind his blindfold. "That's troubling. It seems we're dealing with something far more dangerous than we initially thought."

Hiro's heart skipped a beat, a sudden realization hitting him. "What about Sukuna's finger? Did the curse get it?"

Gojo's smile returned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "About that... I found it in your pocket, but I told the higher-ups that you lost it in battle."

Hiro's eye widened in disbelief. "What? Why would you do that?"

Gojo shrugged, his expression turning more serious. "I hid it. It's a long story, but to put it simply, it was to prevent someone from being executed. Yuji Itadori. Sukuna lives within him now. He'll be your new classmate."

Hiro's mouth fell open, shock and confusion written across his face. "What the hell?"

Gojo laughed, the sound ringing out through the quiet infirmary. "I'll explain everything later. For now, just focus on getting some rest."

He stood up, his hands sliding into his pockets as he turned to leave. Hiro's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Gojo Sensei?"

Gojo glanced back over his shoulder, his smile warm and encouraging. "What is it?"

Hiro swallowed hard, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. "Teach me... how to create a Domain Expansion."

Gojo's expression turned thoughtful, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "It's not something that can be taught. You're either born with the ability or you're not. But..."

He paused, his smile widening. "Once you've recovered, we'll see if you have what it takes. For now, just focus on getting better, my golden boy."

With those words, Gojo turned and strode out of the room, leaving Hiro alone with his thoughts. The young sorcerer lay back against the pillows, his mind racing with questions and possibilities. The battle with the special grade curse had shaken him to his core, had forced him to confront his own limitations and weaknesses.

But as he stared up at the ceiling, his resolve hardened. He would become stronger. He would push himself to new heights, would do whatever it took to stand on equal footing with the likes of Gojo and the other special grade sorcerers.

And if he had to face that curse again, if he had to confront the demons of his past and the fears that haunted his dreams, he would do so without hesitation. For Hiro Miller was not one to back down from a challenge, no matter how daunting it may seem.