6 Destiny

The Meiji Shrine forest, usually a sanctuary of peace and quiet, was now the backdrop for an intense and unexpected showdown. The lush greenery and the towering trees stood as silent witnesses to the confrontation between Hiro and Naoya. The usual serenity of the forest was pierced by the sounds of their battle, the rustling leaves and chirping birds a stark contrast to the tension between the two men.

Naoya, still reeling from the impact of Hiro's punch, couldn't hide his surprise. He thought to himself, "I wanted to end this quickly, but I didn't expect this fool to land a counter like that." Despite his skills as a sorcerer, he had underestimated Hiro, who had proved to be a formidable opponent even without knowledge of cursed energy.

Meanwhile, Hiro, panting heavily from the exertion, was assessing his own situation. He thought, "I barely dodged Zenin's attack. Managed to land a hit, but he's tough as nails. Ended up breaking my own hand." Hiro's breaths were labored, and pain shot through his injured hand with every movement, but his determination to continue the fight remained steadfast.

The forest around them seemed to hold its breath as the two prepared to continue their battle. The contrast between the natural calm of the surroundings and the violence of their conflict was stark. Hiro, a boxer thrust into a world he barely understood, was relying on his instincts and physical prowess. Naoya, surprised by Hiro's resilience, was now considering his next move with more caution.

In the shadow-dappled clearing of the Meiji Shrine forest, Naoya Zenin charged towards Hiro with a predatory swiftness, his movements honed by his training as a sorcerer. Each of his strikes was aimed with lethal intent, cutting through the air with an ominous hiss.

Hiro, brimming with the arrogance of a seasoned boxer, responded with the fluidity and grace that had made him a champion. His hips twisted and turned, dodging Naoya's attacks by mere inches. Hiro's eyes, sharp and focused, tracked Naoya's every move, his body reacting with instinctive precision.

Suddenly, Naoya launched a vicious strike aimed at Hiro's head, a move that could have ended the fight then and there. But Hiro, with the reflexes of a seasoned fighter, ducked swiftly, feeling the rush of air as the attack whizzed over him. Seizing the opportunity, Hiro surged upwards with an explosive force, delivering a crushing uppercut straight to Naoya's jaw.

The impact of Hiro's fist against Naoya's face was a sharp crack that momentarily pierced the forest's tranquility. Naoya stumbled backward, momentarily thrown off balance by the sheer power of Hiro's counterattack.

Furious at being bested in hand-to-hand combat, Naoya regained his footing and fixed Hiro with a glare full of venom. "You'll regret that," he spat, his voice seething with anger.

Hiro, standing tall despite his exhaustion and the throbbing pain in his broken hand, grinned defiantly at Naoya. "Come on, is that all you've got?" he taunted, his arrogance undiminished by the danger he faced.

"I won't even bother using cursed energy on a weakling like you," Naoya sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Hiro, unfazed and brimming with his usual bravado, retorted, "Sounds like someone's too scared to go all out against me."

Enraged by the taunt, Naoya charged at Hiro with a ferocity that cut through the calm of the forest. Hiro, relying on his honed reflexes, dodged a vicious strike and countered with a solid blow to Naoya's liver. The impact resonated through the quiet of the forest.

Naoya, his face twisted in pain, retaliated with a powerful kick. Hiro blocked it with his uninjured arm, but the sheer force shook him, throwing off his balance. Seizing the moment, Naoya unleashed a spinning kick that caught Hiro squarely, knocking him to the ground.

As Hiro lay dazed, Naoya attempted a crushing stomp aimed at Hiro's head. Reacting with sheer instinct, Hiro rolled away just in time, narrowly escaping a potentially fatal blow. He quickly scrambled to his feet, ready to continue the fight.

Hiro lunged at Naoya, throwing a punch, but the sorcerer's reflexes were too quick. Naoya dodged effortlessly and launched a barrage of brutal strikes. "You're out of your league!" Naoya shouted as his fists connected with Hiro's body, each hit causing more damage.

Hiro, bloodied and battered, refused to back down. He took the hits, his own blood spattering the forest floor, and tried to find an opening in Naoya's relentless assault. But Naoya was merciless, his strikes coming faster and harder, a clear intent to incapacitate or even kill.

In the midst of the dense Meiji Shrine forest, Naoya Zenin's relentless onslaught continued unabated. Each of his strikes was a brutal, calculated blow, pounding Hiro's stomach with ruthless precision. With every hit, Hiro's body shuddered violently, waves of excruciating pain coursing through him, overwhelming his senses.

Hiro's breaths were ragged and strained, each inhale an agonizing effort as Naoya's fists pummeled him mercilessly. The metallic taste of blood filled Hiro's mouth, a grim reminder of the severity of the assault. His vision began to swim, the edges darkening as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

Naoya's mocking laughter was cruel and biting. "Pathetic. Is this really all the great Hiro Takashi can withstand?" he taunted, his fists continuing their brutal dance against Hiro's battered body.

Hiro, in a desperate bid for retaliation, summoned the remnants of his strength and launched an uppercut towards Naoya's jaw. The movement, fueled by sheer willpower, was a testament to Hiro's tenacity. However, it came at a great cost. His already damaged hand, pushed past its breaking point, fractured under the force, sending jolts of searing pain up his arm.

Despite his injury, Hiro's blow found its mark, forcing Naoya to stagger back, blood escaping his lips. Naoya's face twisted in anger as he wiped the blood away, his disdain for Hiro turning into outright fury.

Through the haze of pain, Hiro managed an arrogant grin, his indomitable spirit still shining through. Yet, his triumph was short-lived.

In a swift and decisive move, Naoya, his hand now wreathed in cursed energy, delivered a catastrophic blow. His fist penetrated Hiro's abdomen, the cursed energy tearing through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. Hiro's eyes widened in shock and torment; the pain was unimaginable, far beyond anything he had ever experienced.

Collapsing to the forest floor, Hiro lay gasping for air, his body wracked with pain. The tranquility of the surrounding woods stood in stark contrast to the brutality of the fight, the quietude amplifying the gravity of Hiro's dire situation. Blood seeped into the earth beneath him as he lay there, teetering on the brink of consciousness, the outcome of this perilous encounter hanging precariously in the balance.

Naoya Zenin, his face contorted with disdain, spat towards Hiro lying defeated on the forest floor. "I'll let you bleed out here, think about how you ended up," he sneered, his words filled with contempt.

Turning on his heel, Naoya walked away from the scene, leaving Hiro in a crumpled heap. As he made his way out of the forest, Naoya touched his face where Hiro had landed the punch, a begrudging respect for Hiro's strength evident despite his animosity. "Didn't think that idiot would be so strong," he muttered to himself, the surprise in his voice betraying his earlier confidence.

Back where Hiro lay, the situation was dire. Blood continued to seep from his grievous wound, staining the forest floor beneath him. Drained of strength and overwhelmed by pain, Hiro knew his situation was critical. He understood the grim reality – he was on the brink of death.

With trembling hands, Hiro reached for his cellphone, his vision blurry and his movements sluggish. He intended to send a message to Shiru, seeking help. However, in his weakened state, he mistakenly sent the message to Maki instead. The text, just a single word, "Forest," was a desperate cry for help.

As the message went through, Hiro's hand fell to his side, his energy spent. His breathing was shallow and labored, each breath a struggle against the encroaching darkness. Lying there, alone and injured in the quiet of the forest, Hiro couldn't help but think this might be where his story ended – not in a boxing ring, but in a place he barely understood, far from the world he knew.

In the peaceful surroundings of the Meiji Shrine forest, a stark contrast to the violence that had just occurred, Hiro lay waiting, hoping against hope that help would arrive in time.

Lying on the cold, damp forest floor, Hiro's thoughts turned inward as he grappled with his dire situation. The pain from his wound was overwhelming, but it was the realization of his helplessness that truly weighed on him. He felt a deep sense of frustration and self-reproach.

"I can't believe I'm so pathetic... needing to call Shiru for help," Hiro lamented internally, his pride wounded as much as his body. He had always prided himself on his strength and independence, on being able to handle any challenge that came his way. But now, reduced to this vulnerable state, he was forced to confront his own limitations.

The reality of his situation was bitter. Hiro, who had risen to the top in the boxing world through sheer determination and grit, now lay incapacitated, relying on someone else to save him. The irony of his current state, compared to the heights he had achieved in the ring, was not lost on him.

"Look at me now, reduced to this... lying here, waiting for rescue," Hiro thought, a mix of anger and despair in his mind. The situation was a stark reminder of how quickly fortunes could change, especially when stepping into a world one didn't fully understand.

As he lay there, waiting and hoping for Shiru to find him, Hiro couldn't help but reflect on the choices that had led him to this moment. The arrogance that had served him so well in the boxing ring had been his downfall in this unfamiliar world of cursed energy and sorcerers.

In the tranquil forest, Hiro was alone with his thoughts, each passing moment a struggle against the pain and the creeping darkness. His journey, marked by triumphs and now this grave defeat, had taken an unexpected turn, leaving him at the mercy of fate and the kindness of those he had reached out to in his moment of need.

_______

Maki, drenched in sweat from an intense series of exercises, took a moment to catch her breath and hydrate. She was pushing herself hard, the physical exertion a welcome distraction from the complexities of her life as a sorcerer. As she took a sip of water, her cellphone vibrated, breaking her focus.

She glanced at the screen with a hint of annoyance, expecting another one of Hiro's boastful messages. However, her expression shifted to one of confusion when she saw the message simply read, "Forest." She rolled her eyes, wondering what Hiro could possibly mean by that.

"Always so cryptic," she muttered to herself, tucking the phone back. She tried to refocus on her training, throwing herself into her exercises with renewed vigor. But the word "Forest" echoed in her mind, persistent and nagging.

As she continued her training, a part of her couldn't shake off a growing sense of unease. Hiro was many things – arrogant, infuriating, and overly confident – but he wasn't one for cryptic messages. The simplicity of the message, coupled with the lack of context, was unusual for him.

Maki's thoughts kept drifting back to the message. "Why just 'Forest'? Is he in trouble? Or is it just another one of his games?" she pondered, the questions distracting her from her training routine.

Despite her efforts to dismiss it, Maki's intuition nagged at her. There was something about the message that didn't sit right with her. Finally, unable to shake the feeling that something might be wrong, she decided to investigate. She quickly finished her water and prepared to head towards the forest, the location Hiro had vaguely referenced.

As she made her way out of the training area, Maki's steps quickened. The sense of urgency grew within her – if Hiro was in trouble, every moment could be critical. Despite their often contentious relationship, she couldn't ignore the possibility that he might genuinely need her help. The word "Forest" had turned from a puzzling message into a call to action.

Maki's journey to the forest required her to navigate through the bustling streets of the city first. As she exited the school grounds, her brisk walk transformed into a determined jog, her mind still wrestling with the implications of Hiro's cryptic message.

"Why 'Forest' of all things? What's he gotten himself into now?" she pondered, her thoughts a whirlwind of irritation and concern. Hiro's usual messages were a mix of boasting and playful annoyance, but this... this was different.

The city's sounds and sights blurred around her as she moved with urgency. People and cars became mere obstacles to navigate as she made her way to the forest. Maki's frustration at Hiro's lack of clarity battled with a growing sense of worry. It wasn't like him to send such a vague message, especially with no follow-up.

As she crossed busy intersections and darted past pedestrians, Maki's pace quickened. The normally familiar city felt strange under her feet as she ran, propelled by a mix of duty and an unspoken fear for Hiro's safety.

"Damn it, Hiro, what have you done this time?" she muttered to herself, her worry mounting with each step. Despite their often contentious interactions, the thought of Hiro in real danger unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Finally, Maki reached the outskirts of the city, where the urban landscape gave way to the natural tranquility of the forest. The stark contrast between the city's chaos and the forest's peace mirrored the turmoil in Maki's mind. As she plunged into the tree-lined paths of the forest, her senses heightened, Maki was on high alert, searching for any sign of Hiro. The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on her, the seriousness of her mission driving her forward into the depths of the woods.

As Maki ventured deeper into the forest, her eyes scanned the area anxiously. The serene atmosphere of the woods stood in sharp contrast to the urgency of her mission. Suddenly, she spotted a figure lying motionless on the ground ahead. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized Hiro's prone form.

"Hiro!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the trees. Panic surged through her as she sprinted towards him. Reaching his side, Maki's worst fears were confirmed. Hiro lay unconscious, a ghastly wound evident on his abdomen.

"Oh no, Hiro, what happened?" Maki exclaimed, her voice laced with panic. She quickly assessed the situation, noting the severity of the injury. Hiro's face was pale, his breathing shallow and labored.

Maki tried to rouse him, her voice tinged with desperation. "Hiro, can you hear me? Hiro!" But he remained unresponsive, his condition critical.

Realizing she needed to act fast, Maki's thoughts turned to Shoko, the school's healer. "I need to get him to Shoko, now," she murmured to herself.

With utmost care, Maki lifted Hiro into her arms. He was heavier than she anticipated, but her resolve gave her strength. She began to run back through the forest towards the school, Hiro's limp body cradled in her arms.

As she ran, Maki knew that arriving at the school with Hiro in this state would attract attention, but she didn't care. Hiro's life was in danger, and that was all that mattered.

"Hold on, Hiro. Just hold on," she whispered to him, her voice a mix of determination and worry. Each step was a race against time, her mind focused solely on getting Hiro the help he needed.

The forest seemed to blur around her as she hastened towards the school, Hiro's fate hanging in the balance. Maki's usually composed demeanor was replaced by a fierce protectiveness, a side of her that few had seen. As the trees gave way to the city's outskirts, Maki pushed on, her singular goal driving her forward with unyielding urgency.

________

In front of an old, worn-out building, the sign "Orphanage" hung crookedly above the entrance, its paint peeling and faded. A small blonde boy stood hesitantly at the threshold, his bright blue eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Beside him, an elderly woman, the caretaker of the orphanage, offered him a solemn look.

"This is your new home now," she told him, her voice gentle yet tinged with firmness. "Remember, children who are arrogant and behave badly often find themselves here."

The boy nodded silently, understanding the unspoken warning in her words. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, following her into the orphanage.

As he walked through the gates, his gaze swept over the courtyard. It was a stark contrast to what he had hoped for in a new home. The patio was dirty and neglected, with weeds poking through the cracks in the concrete. The toys and play equipment were old and rusted, bearing the marks of countless children who had come and gone.

The other children, dressed in worn, faded clothes, were absorbed in their games. They seemed to have created a world of their own within the confines of the orphanage. The boy's blue eyes observed them keenly, taking in every detail of his new surroundings.

The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and shouts, a cacophony that was both lively and a little overwhelming. The boy felt a twinge of unease but also a curiosity about the lives of these children who were now his peers.

As the caretaker led him further inside, the boy cast one last glance at the world he was leaving behind. He knew that this was a new chapter in his life, one filled with unknown challenges and possibilities. Despite the initial gloominess of the orphanage, his eyes held a glimmer of resilience and determination. This new environment, though daunting, was a place where he could grow and perhaps find a sense of belonging he had been missing.

The young boy entered his new room, a sparsely furnished space with ten beds lining the walls. Despite the number of beds, the room was currently empty, adding to the sense of isolation he felt. The room was chilly, and the light filtering through the small window was a dull gray, matching the gloomy weather outside.

The elderly caretaker instructed him to unpack his belongings and get acquainted with the place before leaving him alone in the room. The boy stood there for a moment, taking in his new surroundings, then slowly started to unpack his few possessions.

He carefully placed his items on the bed assigned to him, his movements methodical and deliberate. Among his belongings was a small photograph in a simple frame. He placed it gently on the nightstand next to his bed. The photo showed him and his mother, a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes like his, her face lit up with a warm, loving smile.

"Mother," the boy whispered softly, his voice barely audible. He stared at the photo, a mix of sadness and longing in his eyes. The image of his mother's smile brought both comfort and a sharp pang of loss. For a moment, he was lost in memories, recalling the happier times they had shared.

The room around him felt even colder now, the silence more pronounced. But the photograph of his mother provided a small beacon of warmth in the stark, impersonal room. It was a reminder of a time before the orphanage, a connection to a past that felt both distant and painfully close.

With a deep sigh, the boy finished unpacking his meager belongings. He knew he had to face this new chapter of his life, no matter how daunting it seemed. With one last look at the photograph of his mother, he steeled himself and walked out of the room to explore his new home, the orphanage that was now his world.

The young boy, Hiro, stepped out into the orphanage's backyard, his eyes scanning the area. He saw groups of children scattered around, engaged in various games and activities. His attention was drawn to a scene unfolding in a corner of the yard.

There, he saw a group of kids bullying a girl with striking purple eyes and a boy with a notably large forehead. The sight stirred something within Hiro – a sense of injustice and the need to act. He remembered his mother's words, echoing in his mind, "Hiro, you were born strong to protect others."

Clutching his fists tightly, Hiro whispered to himself, "I understand, Mother." With a sense of purpose fueling him, he charged towards the bullies. It was five against one, but Hiro didn't falter. He threw punches with precision and strength, each one landing with a determination that surprised his opponents.

Despite the odds, Hiro managed to fend off the bullies, his actions and resolve scattering them. Standing protectively in front of the two children he had just saved, he shouted, "I am Hiro Takashi, and anyone who bullies others will have to deal with me!"

His voice, strong and confident, carried across the yard, silencing the other children. The bullies, now intimidated, scurried away, leaving Hiro, the girl, and the boy in peace.

Hiro turned to the two children he had defended, his expression softening. "Are you two okay?" he asked, his tone gentle but still carrying the assertiveness of someone who wouldn't tolerate injustice.

The girl with the purple eyes looked up at him, a mix of gratitude and awe in her gaze. The boy with the large forehead, still a bit shaken, nodded in thanks. Hiro, feeling a sense of fulfillment from standing up for others, knew that he had made the right decision.

In that moment, Hiro understood the responsibility that came with his strength. He was determined to be a protector, a guardian for those who couldn't defend themselves. It was a role he would grow into with time, shaping the person he would eventually become.

After the confrontation with the bullies, the atmosphere in the orphanage yard shifted. The girl, now looking up at Hiro with a sense of newfound respect, introduced herself. "I'm Yina," she said, her voice still carrying a hint of the awe she felt after witnessing Hiro's intervention.

The boy, adjusting his posture, added, "And I'm Yamada. Thanks for helping us out."

Yina, with a bright smile, asked Hiro, "Do you want to play with us?"

Hiro's response was a mix of confidence and a playful smirk. "Sure, I'll give you the honor of playing with me," he said, his tone lighthearted yet carrying his characteristic self-assurance.

Yamada raised an eyebrow at Hiro's response, a bit taken aback. "Are you always this arrogant?" he questioned, half-amused and half-curious.

Hiro shrugged, his grin unwavering. "It's not arrogance; it's confidence," he corrected, his voice firm yet friendly.

Yina laughed, the sound light and genuine. "I like you, Hiro," she declared, her earlier apprehension now replaced by a sense of camaraderie. "You're interesting."

The three children, now united by the day's events, began to play together. Hiro, with his bold and confident nature, Yina, with her warm and accepting demeanor, and Yamada, with his more reserved but curious personality, formed an unlikely trio. They quickly found common ground, their play filled with laughter and a sense of freedom that only childhood can bring.

In that moment, Hiro found something he hadn't realized he was seeking – a sense of belonging and friendship. The orphanage, initially a place of uncertainty and isolation, began to feel more like a home. And in Yina and Yamada, Hiro found his first true friends, a bond that would grow and shape their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

__________

In the quiet, gray room of the Jujutsu High infirmary, Hiro lay still on a hospital bed, his injury now expertly treated by Shoko, the school's healer. Shoko, removing her gloves after ensuring Hiro was stable, turned to Maki, who had been waiting anxiously.

"He's going to be fine," Shoko reassured her, her voice calm and steady. "The wound was severe, but I've managed to heal it. Now, he just needs rest."

Maki let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "Thank you, Shoko. I was really worried," she said, her gratitude evident in her tone.

Gojo, who had been quietly observing from the corner of the room, chimed in with his usual playful demeanor. "It's not like you to rush to someone's rescue, Maki. Is this guy your boyfriend or something?" he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Maki's face flushed with embarrassment at Gojo's insinuation. "Don't be ridiculous, Gojo. He's not my boyfriend, just... sort of a friend," she replied, her voice a mix of annoyance and defensiveness.

Gojo laughed, clearly amused by Maki's reaction. "I know, I know, he's that Hiro guy, right? The boxer who's been stirring things up lately," he said, grinning.

Maki rolled her eyes, not entirely surprised that Gojo was aware of Hiro. "Yes, that's him. Hiro Takashi. He's... different," she admitted, her tone softening slightly.

Gojo nodded, his expression turning more serious. "Well, you did a good thing bringing him here, Maki. This Hiro seems to have a knack for finding trouble, so it's good he has someone watching his back."

Maki looked back at Hiro, who was still unconscious on the bed. A faint smile crossed her lips, a mix of relief and something deeper, an unspoken acknowledgment of the connection she felt with Hiro.

"Yeah, he's a handful," she said quietly, her eyes lingering on Hiro. "But I guess someone has to look out for him."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, with each person lost in their thoughts. Hiro's presence had unexpectedly brought them together.

In the stillness of the infirmary room, Shoko added something that caught both Maki and Gojo's attention. "While I was applying the reverse curse technique to heal Hiro, I noticed something unusual," she began, her tone indicating the gravity of her discovery. "There was a kind of seal on him, one meant to block his cursed energy. It was fairly simple and weak, so I was able to break it during the healing process."

Maki's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you mean Hiro can use cursed energy?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Shoko nodded affirmatively. "Yes, he can. But as for the extent of his power, that I don't know," she explained, her expression thoughtful.

Gojo, intrigued, stroked his chin in contemplation. "Who would put a seal like that on him, and why?" he mused aloud. The revelation added another layer of mystery to Hiro's already intriguing character.

Gojo's gaze lingered on Hiro, who remained unconscious on the bed, unaware of the significant discovery about his latent abilities. Shoko watched Gojo closely, gauging his reaction.

"What are you thinking, Gojo? Could Hiro be the one we're looking for? The child from the prophecy?" she inquired, her voice steady yet filled with curiosity.

Gojo's eyes narrowed slightly, deep in thought. "It's hard to say without more information. We don't have many details about the prophecy or the child it mentions," he said. "But it might be worth having the seer take a look at him. Hiro could potentially be the child of the prophecy. If he is, that changes a lot."

The room fell silent as they all considered the implications. The discovery of Hiro's sealed cursed energy, and the possibility of him being the prophesied child, added an unexpected dimension to the situation.

Maki looked at Hiro, a mix of concern and wonder on her face. The idea that Hiro might be someone of such significance in the jujutsu world was almost too much to grasp.

Gojo broke the silence. "For now, let's keep this between us. We need to be cautious about how we proceed," he advised, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic seriousness.

They all nodded in agreement, understanding the delicacy of the situation. Hiro, still oblivious to the discussions about his fate, lay quietly as they contemplated the role he might play in the unfolding events of their world.

Maki, still processing the revelations about Hiro, turned to Gojo with a question that had been lingering in her mind. "Gojo, what's this about the child of the prophecy?" she asked, her curiosity evident.

Gojo, ever enigmatic, flashed one of his characteristic smiles. "Why does it matter to you?" he teased, his tone light yet avoiding a direct answer. Without waiting for a response, he effortlessly leapt out of the room, leaving as abruptly as he often did.

Shoko, who had been watching the exchange, let out a small laugh at Gojo's typical behavior. She then turned to Maki, her expression softening. "Don't worry about it too much," she advised gently. "For now, just let Hiro rest. He's been through a lot."

Maki, though still filled with questions and concerns, nodded reluctantly. She understood the importance of Hiro getting the rest he needed, even if her mind was racing with the possibilities of what his newfound abilities could mean.

With one last look at Hiro, who was peacefully sleeping, unaware of the discussions about his fate, Maki followed Shoko out of the infirmary. The quiet of the room enveloped Hiro once more, offering him a chance to recover from his injuries and the ordeal he had endured.

As Maki and Shoko walked away, the weight of the situation was palpable. Hiro, a seemingly ordinary boy who had stumbled into their world, might be someone of great significance in the grand scheme of things. For Maki, the revelation added a new dimension to her already complicated feelings about Hiro. As she left the infirmary, her thoughts were a tangle of concern, curiosity, and a sense of impending change.

Maki stepped out of the infirmary, her mind still swirling with thoughts about Hiro and the recent revelations. As she walked across the school courtyard, lost in thought, she was suddenly intercepted by Panda and Inumaki.

Panda, with a mischievous glint in his eye, thought it was the perfect opportunity to gather some intel for Yuta. "Hey, Maki, just a quick question," he began casually. "What's your ideal type of guy?"

Maki raised an eyebrow at the sudden and personal question. "Quit the nonsense, Panda," she retorted, not in the mood for such conversations.

Inumaki chimed in with his characteristic one-word response, "Mayonnaise."

Panda nodded in agreement with Inumaki's cryptic comment and persisted. "Come on, Maki. Just curious! You must have some idea."

Maki sighed, realizing that Panda wasn't going to let it go. "I don't really think about that stuff much, but I guess he'd have to be stronger than me," she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

Panda's eyes lit up, and he laughed. "There's only one guy around here who fits that description," he said, clearly hinting at Yuta.

Maki, not particularly interested in continuing the conversation, started to walk away. But then she paused, turning back to look at Panda and Inumaki. "You know, maybe I also like someone with a bit of character," she added thoughtfully, a faint smile crossing her lips.

With that, Maki continued on her way, leaving Panda and Inumaki behind. Her comment about liking someone with character lingered in the air, a subtle acknowledgment that her preferences were more complex than just physical strength.

As she walked away, Maki's thoughts returned to Hiro and the situation unfolding around him. The conversation with Panda and Inumaki was a brief and unexpected diversion, but now her focus was back on the more pressing matters at hand. The school courtyard, usually a place of lively interactions and training, felt different to her now, a reflection of the changing dynamics in her life and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

____________

In a bustling city café, a young man sat quietly, sipping his coffee. The café's large windows offered a view of the busy streets outside, where people hurried by in a constant flow. Observing the scene, he whispered to himself, "I had forgotten how lively this city is."

After finishing his coffee, he stood up and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he washed his hands and then paused in front of the mirror. He took a moment to comb his medium-length brown hair, which he wore slicked back, making his prominent forehead more noticeable.

Staring at his reflection, his green eyes focused intently on himself. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he whispered, "I wonder if I'll run into you at some point, Hiro."

His words hung in the air, a hint of anticipation and perhaps a bit of apprehension in his tone. The young man's connection to Hiro, though unspoken, seemed significant, suggesting a past encounter or a future meeting that he either dreaded or looked forward to.

Finishing up in the bathroom, he adjusted his hair one last time, gave himself a small nod in the mirror, and walked back into the café. The lively atmosphere of the place contrasted with his introspective mood.

As he exited the café and stepped back into the hustle and bustle of the city, his thoughts remained on Hiro. The possibility of their paths crossing again in this busy, unpredictable city seemed both intriguing and inevitable. With each step, he melded into the flow of the crowd, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of a future encounter.