Perspectives

Hiro found himself in the infirmary, surrounded by a tranquil atmosphere as the golden hues of the sunset filtered through the windows. The room was quiet, save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the young sorcerer. Hiro's head rested on Shoko's desk, his blond hair splayed out around him like a halo. He had likely drifted off to sleep without even realizing it, the exhaustion from his training finally catching up with him.

Shoko sat beside him, her fingers gently running through his hair, the soothing motion probably the reason for his peaceful slumber. She watched him with a fond smile, her eyes soft and filled with a maternal warmth. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for the usually boisterous and energetic boy, and Shoko couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness wash over her.

The tranquil moment was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, followed by the familiar voice of Gojo Satoru. "Have you seen my golden boy?" he asked, his tone playful and light.

Gojo's blindfolded eyes seemed to zero in on Hiro's sleeping form, guided by some unseen force. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took in the scene before him. "Aren't you spoiling him a bit too much?" he teased, his voice filled with amusement.

Shoko looked up at Gojo, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness. "And aren't you pushing him too hard?" she countered, her voice tinged with concern. "He came in quite injured from his training."

Gojo shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant gesture. "He wants to be the strongest. He has to do that and more to reach his goal."

Shoko's brow furrowed, her fingers stilling in Hiro's hair. "You know what it means to be the strongest. Is that really what you want for the boy?"

Gojo's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Well, it's something he has to decide for himself. I'm just his teacher, helping him achieve his dreams."

Shoko's gaze returned to Hiro's sleeping face, her expression softening. "It's just... I don't want anything to happen to him."

Gojo tilted his head to the side, his curiosity piqued. "It's unusual for you to get so attached to a student."

Shoko sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I usually try to keep my relationships quite closed off, especially knowing the life of a sorcerer. I simply couldn't bear any more losses."

Gojo fell silent for a moment, his expression turning contemplative. "You have a point there," he conceded, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "But you know, Hiro is strong. He'll be alright."

Shoko's eyes met Gojo's, a flicker of pain passing through them. "Geto was strong too."

Gojo nodded, his smile returning, but this time with a hint of sadness. "True, but I'm not talking about physical strength. I mean mentally and emotionally. Geto was corrupted by something he saw, but Hiro... his values and mentality are unshakable. Trust in him."

Shoko's lips curved into a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She ceased her gentle caresses of Hiro's hair, and as if breaking free from a spell, the young sorcerer's eyes fluttered open. He blinked, confusion written across his face as he took in his surroundings.

"Huh? Did I fall asleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the remnants of slumber.

Gojo chuckled, his smile widening. "Like a baby," he teased, his tone light and playful.

Hiro stretched, his joints popping as he rose to his feet. "The training must have really worn me out," he mused, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shoko nodded, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "You slept for at least an hour."

Hiro's eyes widened, a sudden realization hitting him. "What time is it?"

Shoko glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's already 6:30."

Hiro groaned, his hand coming up to smack his forehead. "Damn it, I was supposed to meet Maki half an hour ago! She's going to have my balls on a platter."

Gojo, sensing an opportunity, pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against. "Hiro, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Hiro turned to face his teacher, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "What's up?"

Gojo crossed his arms over his chest, his expression turning serious. "The exchange event is just around the corner."

Hiro nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh yeah, last year Rika wiped the floor with Kyoto. She didn't let me or Hakari do anything."

Gojo's smile widened, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye. "But this year, Yuta won't be participating, so you'll have to steal the show."

Hiro puffed out his chest, his confidence radiating off him in waves. "Stealing the show is my middle name."

Shoko, a teasing smile on her lips, interjected, "I thought it was Simon."

Gojo threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the infirmary. "That's right, I almost forgot. Americans have two names and two surnames. Hiro Simon Miller Sasawa."

Hiro's face flushed a deep red, his embarrassment palpable. "My family goes back and forth between Japan and the United States. My father was born here but spent most of his life in the States, while my mother is from here."

Shoko's smile softened, her eyes filled with warmth. "I think Simon is a lovely name."

Gojo, sensing the conversation veering off track, cleared his throat. "But back to the matter at hand, I'd like you to help train one of the first-years."

Hiro's brow furrowed, confusion written across his face. "Why?"

Gojo sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "We're short on members. The third-years have been expelled, so we need to rely on the first-years for support."

Hiro's eyes narrowed, a hint of arrogance creeping into his voice. "I can single-handedly crush Kyoto."

Gojo shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "True, but that would be boring. So, take one of the first-years under your wing."

Hiro's expression soured, his distaste for the idea evident. Gojo, sensing his reluctance, added, "You can make them your personal errand boy."

Hiro's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "You're right, I'll do it."

With that, Hiro turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary, his earlier exhaustion forgotten in the face of this new challenge. Shoko watched him go, a mixture of amusement and concern on her face.

"It seems like you know how to handle him," she mused, her eyes meeting Gojo's.

Gojo chuckled, his smile widening. "Naturally, I'm his teacher."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the infirmary in a warm, golden glow, Shoko couldn't help but feel a sense of hope blooming in her chest. With Gojo's guidance and Hiro's unwavering determination, perhaps the future of Jujutsu High was in good hands after all.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, its gentle rays illuminating the small, cozy bedroom. Hiro lay in his bed, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly emerged from the depths of sleep. Beside him, Maki slumbered peacefully, her body curled around his, her face nestled against his chest.

Hiro's gaze drifted to the floor, taking in the scattered clothing that littered the ground. He sighed, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I need a bigger bed," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

Maki stirred, her eyes still closed, but a small smile playing on her lips. "What are you mumbling about?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Hiro chuckled, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "It's nothing. It's just that I need a larger bed, considering someone sleeps here every night."

Maki's eyes fluttered open, a mischievous glint in their depths. She propped herself up on one elbow, her smile widening. "Well, if you want, I can sleep in my own room."

Before Hiro could respond, Maki leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. She then trailed her lips down his neck, her touch feather-light and teasing. Hiro's breath hitched, his heart rate increasing at the sensation.

"You know," he said, his voice slightly strained, "you've been more affectionate lately, especially when we're alone."

Maki's teeth grazed his skin, a playful nip that sent a shiver down Hiro's spine. He jolted, his eyes widening in surprise. Maki pulled back, a smirk on her face. "If you want, I can treat you badly."

Hiro hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don't know... but I kind of like the idea. I think I might have a fetish."

Maki rolled her eyes, a laugh escaping her lips. "You're weird."

Hiro grinned, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. The couple began to dress, their movements languid and unhurried. As Hiro pulled on his shirt, he glanced over at Maki, his expression turning serious.

"By the way, Gojo said I need to take one of the first-years under my wing."

Maki's eyes narrowed, a hint of jealousy flashing in their depths. "If Kugisaki crosses your mind, even for a second, I'll hang your balls and display them on Tokyo Tower for infidelity."

Hiro's eyes widened, his hands coming up in a placating gesture. "Duly noted."

Maki, seemingly satisfied with his response, continued dressing. "So, between Fushiguro and Itadori, who will you choose?"

Hiro paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "Fushiguro is a total snob."

Maki snorted, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Like you."

Hiro placed a hand on his chest, a look of mock offense on his face. "But I'm one of the charismatic ones."

Maki shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips. "That's what you think."

Hiro grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then I guess the choice is obvious."

Maki tilted her head to the side, curiosity written across her face. "Itadori?"

Hiro's grin widened, his expression turning impish. "Kugisaki."

Maki's hand shot out, smacking the back of Hiro's head. He yelped, his hand coming up to rub the sore spot. Maki shook her own hand, a grimace on her face. "Your head is stupidly hard."

They both paused at the door, Maki's eyes widening as she looked up at Hiro. "Did you grow taller?"

Hiro shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. "I suppose I did."

Maki groaned, her head falling back in exasperation. "Stop growing, you idiot. You'll look like a poster at this rate."

Hiro chuckled, his hand coming up to ruffle Maki's hair. "It's not my fault that the Japanese are so short."

Maki swatted his hand away, a scowl on her face. "Just don't get too big. How tall are you now?"

Hiro paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "I think around 1.84 meters."

Maki's eyes widened, a look of disbelief on her face. "That's too much. You're 14 cm taller than me."

Hiro's grin turned sly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But you can take something bigger and beg for more."

Before Maki could smack him again, Hiro was already running, his laughter echoing through the hallways as he made his escape. Maki shook her head, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her annoyance.

Life with Hiro was never dull, that was for sure. And as much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Itadori walked alongside Kugisaki and Fushiguro, the trio making their way out of the school as the bright sun shone down upon them. The spring was nearing its end, and the summer heat could be felt in the air. As they strolled, Itadori's gaze drifted to a distant tree, where he spotted Hiro sleeping peacefully beneath its shade.

Suddenly, Maki appeared and swiftly woke Hiro with a sharp blow, immediately launching into a scolding tirade. Hiro, his face flushed with embarrassment, simply laughed it off. To an outside observer, it seemed as though Hiro was the type of guy who let his girlfriend boss him around and was generally lazy.

Itadori turned to Fushiguro, curiosity etched on his face. "Hey, tell me, is Senpai Miller as strong as they say?"

Fushiguro, his expression neutral, replied, "They say he's strong, but quite troublesome. That's why he wears a black uniform instead of the blue one like ours."

Itadori, his brow furrowed in confusion, asked, "What do you mean?"

Fushiguro explained, "Problematic students wear uniforms of different colors to identify them. Though, the black one isn't as noticeable since it's not a severe case."

Itadori, still curious, pressed on. "So, is he strong?"

Fushiguro shrugged, his tone indifferent. "All I know is that he's a headache."

Kugisaki chimed in, her voice tinged with annoyance. "The guy is way too cocky. I'll give him that he's handsome, but he's always sleeping or in the infirmary. I bet he likes flirting with the school nurse. I feel sorry for Maki, having a playboy as a boyfriend."

Itadori glanced back at Hiro and Maki, only to see Maki now chasing Hiro with her spear while he used Inumaki as a human shield. Itadori, a small smile on his face, remarked, "Well, at least he seems like a good guy."

Fushiguro, his tone cautionary, warned, "If you get too involved with him, you'll only find trouble. I heard he went directly to the Zenin clan and punched the leader."

Itadori, his eyes widening, said, "That sounds kind of dangerous."

The trio exited the school grounds, the sun reaching its zenith in the sky.

Later that afternoon, as they returned to the school, Itadori's gaze was drawn to the same spot where he had seen Hiro earlier. Now, Hiro was engaged in intense training with Gojo, both moving at an incredible speed. Itadori could see the sweat pouring down Hiro's face, his body pushed to its limits, while Gojo remained fresh and seemingly effortless in his movements. It was the first time Itadori had seen Gojo move so quickly. Was Gojo really that strong? And was Hiro just as powerful?

Fushiguro, noticing Itadori's stare, commented, "It seems like Master Gojo finally got him to work. He's a first-class slacker."

Kugisaki, her tone scathing, added, "That's to be expected from a perverted womanizer."

Itadori, however, remained focused on the swift movements of Hiro and Gojo, his mind racing with questions.

Hours passed, and the night had fallen. Itadori glanced at his watch, noting it was 9:30 PM. Craving a drink from the vending machine, he ventured out, allowing the cool night breeze to caress his skin as his footsteps echoed through the silent school grounds.

Reaching the vending machine, Itadori pressed the button for a soda, his mouth watering in anticipation as the machine whirred to life. The can dropped with a satisfying clunk, and Itadori grabbed it, taking a long swig. He savored the sensation of the breeze on his face once more, appreciating the tranquility of the moment.

However, a faint sound caught his attention, emanating from the training area if his intuition served him right. Curiosity piqued, Itadori made his way over, only to find an array of weights scattered across the grass. There, in the midst of it all, stood Hiro, lifting a heavily loaded barbell, the discs stacked to their maximum capacity. The veins in his muscles bulged, and small sparks of electricity danced along his arms as he channeled cursed energy to enhance his strength, enabling him to lift a weight worthy of an Olympic champion.

Itadori watched in awe, wondering why Senpai Miller was still training at this late hour. Approaching cautiously, he called out, "Senpai!"

Hiro paused, a smile spreading across his face as he greeted the younger student. "Ah, hello, Itadori. What brings you here so late?"

Itadori, his brow furrowed, countered, "That's what I should be asking you. What are you doing?"

Hiro, his tone lighthearted, replied, "Isn't it obvious? Training." He gently lowered the barbell to the ground, the weights clanging softly.

Itadori, still perplexed, asked, "But why so late?"

Hiro, wiping the sweat from his brow, explained, "Well, in the mornings, I train with weapons alongside Maki, even though I don't particularly enjoy using them. So, I often escape or use that time to rest my body and catch up on sleep. Afterwards, I practice my cursed techniques, followed by working on my domain expansion with Professor Gojo. Then, we engage in hand-to-hand combat training. Finally, I have some free time, which I spend with Maki. I top it all off with some weightlifting to build strength and power."

Itadori, his eyes wide with surprise, remarked, "I had no idea you trained so much."

Hiro, a determined glint in his eye, declared, "Of course. I train to be the best."

Itadori, his curiosity growing, asked, "But why push yourself so hard? Aren't you already one of the strongest students here?"

Hiro, his gaze distant, replied, "It's not enough. I have a goal, a promise to keep. I need to become stronger than anyone else, strong enough to protect the people I care about."

Itadori, sensing the weight of Hiro's words, remained silent for a moment before speaking. "I think I understand. It's not just about being the best for the sake of it. It's about having the power to make a difference, to protect what matters most."

Hiro, a genuine smile on his face, nodded. "Exactly. You're a sharp one, Itadori. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Itadori, feeling a sense of kinship with his senpai, grinned. "Thanks, Senpai. I'll keep that in mind."

Hiro, stretching his arms above his head, said, "Well, I think I've had enough for tonight. How about we head back inside? I'm sure Maki is wondering where I've disappeared to."

Itadori, falling into step beside Hiro, asked, "Doesn't she get worried when you train so late?"

Hiro, a mischievous glint in his eye, chuckled. "Nah, she knows I can take care of myself. Besides, she's probably busy sharpening her spear, ready to chase me down again tomorrow."

The two laughed, their voices echoing through the night as they made their way back to the dorms. Itadori, his mind buzzing with new insights and aspirations, couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for his enigmatic senpai. Perhaps there was more to Hiro Miller than met the eye, a depth of character hidden beneath his carefree exterior.

As they parted ways, Hiro paused, turning to face Itadori. "Hey, Itadori? If you ever need help with training or just want to talk, don't hesitate to come find me. Us troublemakers need to stick together, right?"

Itadori, a wide grin spreading across his face, nodded. "You got it, Senpai. Thanks for the offer."

With a final wave, Hiro disappeared down the hallway, leaving Itadori alone with his thoughts. As he made his way back to his own room, Itadori couldn't shake the feeling that his time at Jujutsu High was about to get a whole lot more interesting. With senpais like Hiro and friends like Fushiguro and Kugisaki by his side, he knew he was in for one hell of a ride.

Jogo lay reclined on the sandy shore, his body sinking into the soft, sun-warmed grains. The brilliant sun hung high in the sky, its rays casting a shimmering glow across the vast expanse of the beach. The soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, creating a melodic backdrop within the confines of Dagon's domain expansion.

Jogo stared intently at his hand, his mind lost in thought. Suddenly, Suguru Geto, the distinctive scar adorning his forehead, approached him with a smirk playing on his lips. "What's the matter, Jogo?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. "Still dwelling on the thrashing you received?"

Jogo's eyes narrowed, a scowl etching itself onto his features. "I didn't get thrashed," he retorted, his tone sharp and defensive. "I could have ended the fight from the very beginning. I merely wanted to gauge the power of sorcery."

Geto threw his head back, a hearty laugh escaping his lips. "Oh, really? From where I was standing, you looked like a complete mess when you returned."

Jogo's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white. "That was only because the boy caught me off guard," he growled, his pride wounded. "It won't happen again."

Geto's eyes glinted with curiosity. "You said the name of that boy was Hiro Miller, correct?"

Jogo nodded, his jaw set in a tense line.

Geto's smile widened, a knowing look crossing his face. "Let me tell you something, Jogo. That kid gave this body a thorough beating before I took over. So, he's not an easy opponent, when all is said and done."

Jogo scoffed, his eyes rolling in disdain. "He wasn't that impressive. As I said, I was overconfident, that's all."

Geto shrugged, his laughter subsiding. "Regardless, he doesn't concern me in the slightest. The only one we need to worry about is Gojo Satoru."

Jogo's brow furrowed, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Do you think Mahito could defeat him?"

Geto shook his head, his expression turning serious. "Not a chance. Mahito may have immense potential as a curse, but he's still leagues behind Gojo Satoru."

Jogo's frustration mounted, his voice rising in volume. "Then how are we supposed to deal with him?"

Geto held up a hand, his smile returning. "As I've already told you, I have a plan." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "By the way, Jogo, if Mahito and Hiro were to face each other, who do you think would emerge victorious?"

Jogo pondered the question for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Mahito hasn't reached his full potential yet," he mused, his voice thoughtful. "But even so, I have no doubt that he would triumph over Hiro."

Geto's smile widened, a sense of satisfaction emanating from him. "That's good to hear. There's a chance they might cross paths soon, and it would be a shame if Hiro were to exorcise Mahito so early on."

Jogo's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "You think they'll encounter each other?"

Geto nodded, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "It's a distinct possibility. The threads of fate have a way of intertwining in unexpected ways."

Jogo fell silent, his mind racing with the implications of Geto's words. The gentle breeze picked up, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean. Seagulls soared overhead, their cries piercing the tranquil atmosphere.

Geto shifted his weight, his gaze sweeping across the beach. "This domain expansion is quite impressive," he remarked, his tone appreciative. "Dagon has outdone himself."

Jogo nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Indeed. It's a testament to his strength as a curse."

Geto's eyes narrowed, a calculating look crossing his face. "Speaking of strength, have you given any thought to how we might further enhance our own abilities?"

Jogo leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I've been considering that very question," he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Perhaps it's time we explore new avenues of power."

Geto's smile turned sly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "I have a few ideas in mind. Ones that could potentially tip the scales in our favor."

Jogo's interest piqued, his gaze intense and focused. "Do tell."

Geto chuckled, his fingers lacing together. "All in good time, my friend. But first, we need to gather more information. To truly understand the extent of our enemies' capabilities."

Jogo nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll see to it that we have eyes and ears in all the right places."

Geto clapped Jogo on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I knew I could count on you, Jogo. Together, we'll bring about a new era for curses."

Jogo's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with determination. "And crush anyone who stands in our way."

The two curses fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The sun continued its relentless assault, the heat bearing down upon them like a tangible weight. Yet, within the confines of Dagon's domain, they found solace and respite.

Jogo's mind wandered back to his encounter with Hiro, the memory of the young sorcerer's lightning-fast movements and devastating attacks still fresh in his mind. He clenched his fists, a renewed sense of purpose surging through him.

"Next time," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible above the crashing waves. "Next time, I'll show that brat the true power of a special grade curse."

Geto glanced at Jogo, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Don't underestimate him, Jogo. Hiro Miller may be young, but he's no ordinary sorcerer."

Jogo scoffed, his pride refusing to concede. "I'll crush him like an insect beneath my heel."

Geto shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We shall see, Jogo. We shall see."

The two curses lapsed into silence once more, the weight of their ambitions hanging heavy in the air. The battle lines had been drawn, and the stage was set for a clash of titans. Sorcerers against curses, light against darkness, in an eternal struggle for dominance.

And somewhere, in the heart of Tokyo, Hiro Miller trained relentlessly, unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon. A storm that would test the very limits of his strength and resolve.

For in the world of jujutsu sorcery, nothing was ever certain. And the only thing that mattered was the power to protect what one held dear.