3 Las Vegas

The morning at Jujutsu High School was serene and picturesque. The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, bathing the school grounds in a warm, golden light. Birds chirped melodiously, creating a symphony that harmonized with the gentle rustle of leaves in the mild breeze. The tranquility of the morning provided a stark contrast to the bustling energy that often filled the school.

However, this peaceful ambiance was abruptly shattered by the sound of Maki's voice, raised in frustration as she confronted Panda. The scene unfolded in one of the classrooms, where students were gathered for their morning lessons.

"Seriously, Panda! You're not going to Vegas to watch Hiro's fight?" Maki exclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls.

Panda, looking slightly sheepish, replied, "Well, no, I can't. I'm a panda, remember? I can't just leave the school."

Maki's frustration was evident. "Then why did you ask me to get the tickets in the first place?" she demanded.

Panda scratched his head. "I didn't think you'd actually be able to get them," he admitted.

From the front of the classroom, Gojo Satoru watched the exchange with a barely suppressed grin. His amusement at the situation was clear, as he found the students' interactions both entertaining and endearing.

Gojo, still observing the conversation with interest, chimed in, "Are we talking about the world championship fight?"

Maki nodded, her expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "Yes, that one. Hiro promised to give me tickets," she explained.

Gojo suggested, "You could go alone. It might be fun."

Maki quickly dismissed the idea. "No way. I couldn't stand being alone with that arrogant idiot," she said, her tone firm.

At that moment, Inumaki, who had been listening quietly, contributed his usual unique input, saying simply, "Cornflakes."

Panda, understanding Inumaki's cryptic language, interpreted, "Looks like Inumaki wants to go."

Inumaki nodded enthusiastically, flashing a peace sign.

Maki raised an eyebrow. "It'd be weird to take someone who only speaks in rice ball ingredients," she remarked, half-joking.

Inumaki's smile faltered, a hint of sadness in his eyes. Seeing this, Maki's expression softened, and she quickly added with a smile, "I'm just kidding."

The mood in the classroom lightened as Maki's joke diffused the tension. Gojo's laughter filled the room, and the students joined in, appreciating the humor and camaraderie among their peers. Maki's initial frustration had turned into a playful banter, showcasing the unique and close-knit relationships within the Jujutsu High community.

________________

The gym echoed with the rhythmic sound of Hiro's fists pounding against the heavy bag. Each strike was a testament to his focus and determination. His trainer, Takahiro, stood to the side, observing Hiro's movements with a critical eye.

Takahiro had seen many boxers in his career, but Hiro's recent surge in motivation was something noteworthy. Ever since the announcement of the championship fight, Hiro's usual zeal had intensified tenfold. He moved with a purpose, each jab and hook delivered with precision and power.

"You're hitting harder than ever, Hiro," Takahiro commented, watching as sweat dripped from Hiro's forehead onto the gym floor.

Hiro paused for a moment, catching his breath. "I've got a lot to prove," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and seriousness.

Takahiro nodded, understanding the pressure and the opportunity this fight represented. "This isn't just any fight. It's the world championship. Are you ready for this kind of stage?" he asked, wanting to ensure Hiro was mentally prepared for the challenge ahead.

Hiro resumed his workout, his fists making a thudding noise as they connected with the bag. "I was born ready," he said confidently. "I'm not just going to win; I'm going to dominate."

Takahiro couldn't help but smile at Hiro's confidence. "That's the spirit. But remember, it's not just about physical strength. Strategy and mental toughness are just as important."

Hiro stopped and nodded, acknowledging his trainer's advice. "I know, Takahiro. I won't let my guard down, not for a second."

As Hiro continued his training, Takahiro watched with a sense of pride. Hiro was more than a talented boxer; he was a fighter with a heart of a champion, and this fight was his chance to prove it to the world.

Hiro paused his training and turned to Takahiro with a question that seemed to weigh on him. "Do you think I'm strong?" he asked, his tone serious.

Takahiro didn't hesitate. "Yes, you are strong," he affirmed.

Hiro pressed further, "Am I the strongest?"

His trainer paused, considering his response. "I can't say for sure if you're the strongest. There are a few out there who can give you a run for your money, and Mike, the world champion, is definitely one of them," Takahiro replied honestly.

Hiro's smile returned, but with a hint of contemplation this time. "What about 100 men stronger than me?" he asked, half-jokingly.

Takahiro laughed at the notion. "That's ridiculous. There are only a handful of people who can keep up with you."

Hiro's expression grew thoughtful. "I feel like there are some really strong people out there," he mused, his mind perhaps wandering to the world of Jujutsu and Maki.

Takahiro noticed the distant look in Hiro's eyes and clapped him on the back. "Focus on the here and now, Hiro. The ring is where you prove your strength. Don't get distracted by what-ifs."

Hiro nodded, taking his trainer's advice to heart. He resumed his training with renewed vigor, but the thought of unknown, powerful adversaries lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his drive to become even stronger.

In the midst of his training, Hiro's mind was momentarily swept away by a flashback to his childhood. He found himself in a park from years ago, the scene vivid in his memory.

There, a young Hiro was accompanied by two other children: a girl with black hair and deep purple eyes named Yina, and a red-haired boy with a prominent forehead, Yamada. The innocence of their young faces contrasted sharply with the maturity in their eyes, a testament to the challenges they faced growing up in an orphanage.

The children were sitting on a park bench, a rare moment of leisure in their otherwise tough lives. Yina looked up at Hiro with a mix of admiration and curiosity. "Do you really think you can become the strongest?" she asked, her voice a blend of skepticism and hope.

Hiro, even as a child, had an unwavering confidence. "I will be the strongest," he declared firmly, his youthful determination unshakable.

Yamada glanced at his watch and stood up. "It's time to head back to the orphanage," he said, a sense of responsibility in his tone.

Hiro nodded in agreement. "You're right, Yamada." He then turned to Yina and asked gently, "Ready to go back, Yina?"

Yina nodded silently, and the three children began their walk back to the orphanage. The building they called home was old and rundown, a stark reminder of the difficult circumstances they came from.

As they walked, the setting sun cast long shadows on the path, symbolizing the challenges and hardships they faced. But in Hiro's heart, there was a burning ambition, a promise to himself and his friends that he would rise above their circumstances and become the strongest, not just for himself, but for them as well.

Back in the present, Hiro's fists relentlessly pounded the heavy bag, each strike echoing through the gym with determination and force. His flashback had reignited a fire within him, a reminder of the promise he had made not only to himself but also to his childhood friends, Yina and Yamada.

"I don't care what's out there. I'll become the strongest. I promised," Hiro muttered to himself, his voice a mix of resolve and intensity.

His punches grew more powerful, the sound of his gloves hitting the bag reverberating like a drumbeat, a testament to his unwavering commitment. Sweat poured down his face, but he didn't slow down. Each hit was a symbol of his journey, from the neglected orphanage to the cusp of a world championship.

Takahiro watched Hiro from the sidelines, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. He knew the road to becoming the strongest was fraught with challenges, but he also knew that Hiro possessed the heart and spirit to face them head-on.

As the gym echoed with Hiro's determination, it was clear that his resolve was unbreakable. His promise to himself and to those from his past was more than just words; it was the driving force behind every punch, every training session, every moment he stepped into the ring. Hiro was on a mission, and nothing would stand in his way.

_____________

A month had passed swiftly, and the day of Hiro's big fight had finally arrived. At the airport, Maki and Inumaki waited for their flight to Las Vegas. The anticipation was palpable, a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

Suddenly, a sleek limousine pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and Hiro stepped out, followed by Shiru, his pale, long-haired assistant. Hiro, dressed sharply, exuded confidence and charm.

Spotting Maki, Hiro walked over with a confident stride. "Hello, beautiful. Did I make you wait?" he greeted her with a playful smile.

Maki rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "Idiot," she retorted, though her tone was more affectionate than annoyed.

Hiro then turned to Inumaki. "And this must be the guy you mentioned, Inumaki, if I remember correctly?" Hiro asked, trying to make a friendly connection.

Inumaki simply responded with his unique language, "Rice ball."

Hiro, momentarily confused by Inumaki's cryptic reply, decided not to dwell on it. "Okay, then," he said with a shrug, choosing to let it slide.

As they entered the airport, the trio carried an air of anticipation. For Hiro, this was the culmination of his hard work and determination. For Maki and Inumaki, it was an opportunity to step into a world vastly different from their own.

The group boarded the plane, finding their seats in the spacious cabin. Hiro immediately claimed the window seat, with Maki taking the middle seat, and Inumaki settling into the aisle seat. Shiru, Hiro's assistant, was seated in a different row, giving the trio some space.

Once settled, Hiro turned to Maki with a teasing grin. "Looks like you chose to sit next to me," he said, nudging her playfully.

Maki shot Hiro a look, her expression one of mild annoyance. "Don't flatter yourself. It was the only seat left," she retorted, trying to maintain her composure.

Hiro chuckled, clearly amused by her response. "Sure, Maki. Whatever you say," he said, his tone light and teasing.

Maki sighed, trying to ignore Hiro's teasing. "Just focus on your fight, Hiro. That's why we're here, remember?"

Hiro's expression softened slightly. "I know. And I appreciate you guys coming all this way to support me."

Inumaki, watching the exchange, chimed in with his usual, "Salmon."

Maki smiled at Inumaki's comment, grateful for his presence and his unique way of lightening the mood. Hiro, on the other hand, simply shook his head, still slightly baffled by Inumaki's language but accepting it.

As the plane's engines roared and it sped down the runway, Maki, uncharacteristically unsettled by the takeoff, reflexively reached out and grabbed Hiro's hand with an iron grip.

Hiro, initially amused by her instinctive reaction, quickly found his amusement turning to discomfort. "Maki, you idiot, you're crushing my hand!" he exclaimed, trying to wriggle free from her vice-like grasp.

Beside them, Inumaki watched the scene with a bemused expression, cautiously pulling his own hand away to avoid a similar fate.

Once the plane stabilized in the air, Maki released Hiro's hand. She seemed reluctant to meet his gaze, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Rubbing his sore hand, Hiro half-jokingly complained, "Were you trying to break my hand before the fight?"

Instead of apologizing, Maki quickly searched for an excuse. "Your hand was in the way," she said, her tone defensive.

Hiro raised an eyebrow, knowing full well it was more than that, but chose not to press the issue further.

Maki turned her gaze towards the airplane window, looking out at the vast expanse of sky. Above the clouds, the view was breathtaking; the sky was a canvas of soft blues and whites, with the sun casting a golden hue across the fluffy clouds, creating a serene and almost ethereal landscape. It was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere inside the cabin.

Hiro, noticing her distraction, asked, "Is this your first time on a plane?"

Maki, still gazing out the window, replied quietly, "Yes, it is."

"That explains the fear then," Hiro remarked, a hint of understanding in his voice.

Maki's head snapped towards him, her eyes shooting daggers. She clearly didn't appreciate her fear being pointed out.

In response to her glare, Hiro simply winked at her, a playful gesture that simultaneously acknowledged her discomfort and tried to lighten the mood.

Maki turned her gaze back to the window, trying to hide the slight flush on her cheeks. Despite her annoyance, Hiro's attempt at making her feel at ease had not gone entirely unnoticed.

As the flight attendant approached their row, Hiro turned on his signature charm. "Could I have a mineral water, please?" he asked, giving her a smile that many found hard to resist.

The flight attendant, recognizing the famous boxer, returned his smile with a hint of playfulness. "Certainly, Mr. Takashi. Anything else?"

Hiro leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Well, since you're offering, how about your phone number?"

The attendant, accustomed to such flirtations and charmed by Hiro's fame and good looks, laughed lightly. "I'm afraid that's not part of the service, Mr. Takashi. But it's flattering to be asked by a celebrity," she replied, maintaining a professional yet friendly demeanor.

As she moved on to the next row, Maki looked at Hiro with a blend of irritation and amusement. "Do you really have to flirt with every woman you meet?"

Hiro shrugged, unfazed. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Why, Maki, are you getting jealous?"

Maki scoffed, her annoyance clear. "Jealous? Of your relentless flirting? Please, Hiro. It's just embarrassing."

Hiro chuckled at her response. "Embarrassing? I call it being friendly. You should try it sometime."

Maki shook her head, a small smile betraying her amusement. Despite her protests, Hiro's playful nature was somewhat endearing, even if she would never admit it aloud. Their exchange, filled with teasing and banter, added a light-hearted element to their journey.

As the group stepped out of the bustling Las Vegas airport, they were immediately enveloped in the city's unique energy. The skyline was a mesmerizing display of bright neon lights and towering structures, each building an extravagant testament to the city's love for spectacle and luxury.

Waiting for them was a sleek, black limousine, its polished surface reflecting the colorful city lights. They climbed in, and the limo smoothly merged into the flow of traffic.

Hiro, unable to contain his excitement, popped his head out of the sunroof. The city's vibrant pulse seemed to invigorate him. "Look at this place!" he exclaimed, grinning broadly as he waved at the people on the streets. "Vegas, baby!"

Some pedestrians recognized him and responded with cheers and waves. Hiro basked in the attention, blowing kisses and calling out greetings.

Inside the limo, Maki watched Hiro's display with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. "Could you be any more of a show-off?" she asked, though the corners of her mouth were turned up in a reluctant smile.

Hiro ducked back inside, laughing. "When in Vegas," he said with a shrug, as if that explained everything.

The limousine glided through the streets, passing iconic landmarks and bustling casinos. The neon lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors inside the limo, adding to the surreal feeling of their arrival.

As they pulled up to their luxurious hotel, the grandeur and opulence were almost overwhelming. Stepping out of the limo, they were greeted by the lavish facade of the hotel, its entrance a portal to the extravagance that awaited them inside.

"This is going to be an epic week," Hiro said, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Maki, Inumaki, and Shiru couldn't help but agree, each lost in their own thoughts about what the week in Las Vegas would bring. The air was thick with excitement, the promise of unforgettable experiences hanging palpably in the warm desert air.

The trio entered their luxurious hotel room, and they were immediately struck by its opulence. The room was spacious and elegantly decorated, with plush furnishings and a stunning view of the city.

Hiro, exploring the space, pointed out, "This suite has a private bedroom. Maki, you can have that one. Inumaki and I will share the main room."

Maki, pleasantly surprised by Hiro's consideration, thanked him. "Thanks, Hiro. That's thoughtful of you."

Hiro, with a hint of his usual playfulness, added, "If you get lonely in there, feel free to call me during the night."

Before he could react, Maki, not amused by the comment, tossed her suitcase at him. Hiro managed to catch it, laughing at her feisty response.

Inumaki, witnessing the exchange, simply said, "Salmon."

Maki nodded in agreement with Inumaki's cryptic remark. "You're right, Inumaki," she said, giving Hiro a look that made it clear she wasn't interested in his nighttime invitations.

____________

The day of the weigh-in had arrived, marking a crucial moment before the fight. Hiro, Maki, and Inumaki found themselves once again in the limousine, heading towards the venue where the event was taking place. The atmosphere in the limo was charged with a mix of anticipation and tension.

Maki couldn't help but notice that Hiro was quieter than usual, his demeanor more serious and contemplative. She decided to break the silence with a bit of teasing. "You look like a scared cat, Hiro. Nervous about the weigh-in?"

Hiro glanced at Maki, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Scared? Me? Never," he replied, trying to maintain his usual confident front.

Maki raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. It's okay to admit you're nervous. It's a big fight, after all."

Hiro looked out the window, watching the city pass by. "I'm not nervous about the fight. It's just... a lot is riding on this," he admitted, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Inumaki, sitting quietly, chimed in with his unique language, "Tuna."

Maki chuckled at Inumaki's comment. "I think Inumaki agrees with me. You're acting unusual, Hiro."

Hiro sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Maybe I am a bit on edge. But I've worked hard for this. I'm ready."

Maki nodded, understanding the pressure he was under. "Just remember, we're here for you, no matter what happens."

Hiro looked at Maki and Inumaki, a genuine sense of gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks, you two. That means a lot."

The conversation helped to ease some of the tension, and by the time they arrived at the venue, Hiro seemed more like his usual self, ready to face whatever the weigh-in had in store. The support of Maki and Inumaki, though unspoken, was a constant presence, giving him the strength to face the challenges ahead.

As the limousine neared the venue, Hiro turned to Maki with a challenging gleam in his eye. "Maki, if I knock out the champion, you have to go on a date with me," he proposed confidently.

Maki looked at Hiro, her expression skeptical. "Mike's record is 70-0. He's never lost, not even been knocked down. It's practically an impossible task. I bet you'll win by points," she reasoned, showing her faith in Hiro's abilities but also acknowledging the daunting challenge he faced.

Undeterred, Hiro nodded. "Fair enough. But if I do knock him out, you owe me that date."

Maki, feeling confident about the outcome, agreed to his challenge. "Fine. But if you don't knock him out, you'll never ask me for another date again."

Hiro accepted the deal with a smile, "It's a deal."

Both Hiro and Maki knew the stakes were high, not just for the fight, but for their own agreement. As they stepped out of the limousine and into the venue, the weight of the promise hung in the air, adding an extra layer of excitement to the already charged atmosphere of the weigh-in. The challenge was set, and both were curious to see how it would play out.

_________

Maki and Inumaki sat among the gathered crowd, waiting for the pre-fight press conference to begin. The venue was buzzing with anticipation, filled with journalists, photographers, and fans. The room was large and well-lit, with banners and posters of the fighters adorning the walls. A long table with microphones and nameplates was set up at the front for the fighters and their teams.

Maki leaned towards Inumaki, "Hiro texted me. He said the weigh-in went well. He's on weight."

Inumaki nodded, replying with his customary, "Salmon."

The room's energy shifted as Mike, the current world champion, entered. He was a tall, imposing figure, his physique speaking to years of training and discipline. His skin was a rich ebony, and he carried himself with a confidence befitting a champion with an undefeated record.

Moments later, Hiro entered the room, his presence drawing cheers and shouts from the crowd. He appeared focused, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a seriousness appropriate for the occasion.

The two fighters took their seats at the table, facing the crowd and the sea of cameras. Mike exuded an aura of calm assurance, while Hiro's eyes flickered with determination and a hint of excitement.

The tension in the room was palpable as the press conference was about to begin. Maki watched intently, aware of the significance of the moment for Hiro. This was more than just a fight; it was a chance for him to prove himself against one of the best in the world.

As the press conference commenced, a reporter directed a question towards Mike, focusing on his young opponent. "Mike, how do you feel about fighting a 16-year-old, who's not only Japan's biggest star but also considered the biggest prospect in the world of boxing?"

Mike leaned into the microphone, his voice confident and dismissive. "Look, American boxing is the best in the world. That's just how it is," he began. "As for Hiro, he's a product of good marketing. Nothing special, really."

He glanced at Hiro, who remained silent, and continued, "I've fought better boxers in my career. Japanese boxing isn't on the same level as American boxing. It's just the truth."

His comments stirred a murmur among the reporters, particularly the Japanese media, who appeared visibly upset by his disparaging remarks about Japanese boxing.

Mike seemed unfazed by the reaction, even enjoying the stir he was causing. "This fight? It's just another day at the office for me. Hiro's young and has a lot to learn. Maybe after I beat him, he'll understand what real boxing is."

Throughout Mike's speech, Hiro sat quietly, his expression unreadable. He didn't rise to the bait, maintaining a stoic demeanor in the face of Mike's taunts.

Maki, observing from the audience, frowned at Mike's words. She glanced at Hiro, wondering how he was processing the champion's dismissive attitude. Hiro's silence spoke volumes; it was clear he was choosing to save his response for the ring.

A Japanese reporter, familiar with Hiro's usual fiery demeanor in press conferences, saw an opportunity to stoke the flames. He asked Hiro directly, "What do you think about the champion Mike's words about Japanese boxing and you being just a product of marketing?"

Hiro, with a sly smile, leaned into the microphone. "Firstly, the best boxing in the world is in Mexico, and any real boxer knows that," he began, his tone confident and slightly mocking.

He then turned his attention to Mike's comments about marketing. "As for being a product of marketing, sure, I am. Hiro Takashi is a brand that sells, probably even more than Mike," he said, his smile widening as Mike's expression soured and the crowd began to murmur.

Hiro's confidence seemed to grow with each word. "Tomorrow, I'm not just going to beat Mike. I'm going to knock him out, humiliate him, and make him eat his words. And after that, I'll be walking out with the girl of my dreams." He glanced towards Maki, who looked back at him, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

Standing up, Hiro exuded an air of unshakeable confidence. Without another word, he left the room, leaving a trail of excited whispers and murmurs behind him.

His bold statements had shifted the energy of the press conference, turning it into a spectacle of its own. The reporters buzzed with excitement, eagerly discussing Hiro's bold predictions and his charismatic performance. Meanwhile, Maki sat in the audience, a hint of pride in her eyes for Hiro's unwavering boldness.

After the press conference, Hiro reunited with Maki and Inumaki outside the venue. Maki, who had observed the entire event, didn't mince words as she confronted Hiro.

"You were an arrogant idiot up there," she said, though her tone carried a hint of approval. "But you put that idiot Mike in his place."

Hiro's smile broadened at Maki's backhanded compliment. "Arrogant, maybe, but someone had to shut Mike up," he replied, his confidence undiminished.

Maki nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Just make sure you back up all that talk tomorrow," she advised.

Hiro's eyes gleamed with determination. "Tomorrow, I'll finish the job," he promised, his voice filled with the certainty of a man who believed in his ability to turn his words into reality.

Inumaki, standing beside them, simply added, "Tuna."

The trio then made their way out of the venue, discussing strategies and expectations for the fight. Hiro's boldness at the press conference had set the stage for an intense showdown, and the anticipation for the fight was now at an all-time high.

_________

In the waiting room before the fight, the air was thick with anticipation. Hiro sat there, his body glistening with sweat from his warm-up routine. He was dressed in a striking golden robe with "Takashi" emblazoned across the back, matching golden boxing gloves, and blue shorts that completed his ensemble. He radiated an aura of readiness and determination.

His trainer, Takahiro, observed him closely. "Feeling nervous?" he asked, knowing the weight of the moment.

Hiro looked up, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Hiro Takashi is never nervous," he declared, his tone conveying a mix of excitement and certainty.

Takahiro smiled at Hiro's response, his confidence in his fighter unwavering. "What are you going to prove out there tonight?" he inquired, wanting to hear Hiro's mindset before the big fight.

Hiro stood up, his posture exuding confidence. "I'm going to prove that I'm the strongest," he said with conviction, his smile turning into a determined grin.

Takahiro nodded, satisfied with Hiro's answer. "That's what I wanted to hear. Remember all your training, stay focused, and you'll do great."

As the time to walk out to the ring drew near, Hiro's focus intensified. He was not just fighting for a title; he was fighting to fulfill a promise, to prove his strength, and to make a statement to the world. The energy in the room was a potent mix of tension and anticipation, with Hiro at its center, ready to take on the biggest challenge of his career.

A staff member from the event team entered the room, signaling that it was time. "Mr. Takashi, it's time to head to the ring," he announced.

Hiro stood up, a confident smile on his face. "Looks like it's showtime," he said, his voice steady and full of anticipation.

Takahiro stepped forward and gave Hiro a reassuring pat on the back. "I'd wish you luck, but you don't seem to need it," he said with a proud smile.

Shiru, always the attentive assistant, gathered Hiro's belongings and offered a final piece of advice. "Remember who you are out there," he said.

Hiro nodded, his confidence unwavering. "I'm Hiro Takashi, the number one boxer in the world," he declared, a glint of determination in his eyes.

With his team's support and his own unshakeable confidence, Hiro made his way out of the room, ready to face his biggest challenge yet. The corridor leading to the ring was like a tunnel to destiny, and as he walked, the cheers of the crowd grew louder, fueling his resolve. Tonight, he wasn't just fighting for a title; he was fighting to prove himself to the world.