Date for the fight

Maki straddled Hiro on the bed, her hands exploring his bare chest, still slick with sweat. Both were exhausted, their breathing gradually returning to normal after their intense physical exertion. Small sparks of electricity still danced across Hiro's skin, a testament to the passion they had just shared.

Hiro's blue eyes met Maki's, a mix of satisfaction and disbelief in his gaze. "I can't believe we actually broke the bed," he said, his voice a mixture of awe and amusement.

Maki's lips curled into a proud smile, a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "Well, I'm surprised you managed to keep up with me," she retorted, her tone teasing yet affectionate.

Still catching his breath, Hiro chuckled softly. "Your physical enhancements were definitely a blessing. That was, without a doubt, the best sex I've ever had."

Maki's smile widened at the compliment. She gracefully rose from the bed, her toned body moving with fluid precision as she began to dress. "I suppose we'll have to sleep in my room tonight," she said, pulling on her shirt.

Hiro sat up, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. "Yeah, I doubt this bed is going to be usable anytime soon," he agreed, surveying the damage they had caused in the heat of passion.

They made their way out into the hallway, the cool autumn night air a stark contrast to the warmth they had generated moments ago. Moonlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the school corridors.

As they walked, Maki broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "You're not going to say anything?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Hiro glanced at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "About what?"

Maki's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I came three times. Usually, you'd be bragging about that all night. You're quite the show-off, you know."

A sheepish grin spread across Hiro's face, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Do I really do that?"

Maki let out an exaggerated sigh. "How boring you've become," she teased, nudging him playfully with her elbow.

They continued their walk in comfortable silence, the weight of recent events temporarily lifted from their shoulders. The quiet of the night was a welcome respite from the chaos that had become their daily lives.

Their peaceful moment was interrupted when they encountered Kokichi in one of the corridors. The young sorcerer stood by a window, his gaze fixed on the starry sky outside.

"What are you doing up so late, brainiac?" Hiro called out, his voice carrying a hint of friendly mockery.

Kokichi turned to face them, his features somehow managing to convey a sense of unease. "I couldn't sleep. Came out for a walk to clear my head."

Hiro's expression softened, concern replacing his earlier playfulness. "What's on your mind?"

Kokichi hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain. "It's just... without Satoru Gojo, and with Sukuna out there... can we really defeat them?"

As if summoned by the weight of the conversation, Itadori appeared from around the corner, his usual energetic demeanor subdued. "You're thinking the same thing, Kokichi?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of relief at not being alone in his doubts.

Maki's sharp eyes studied Itadori's face. "What's wrong, Yuji? You're having doubts too?"

Itadori forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, in a way, I feel like this is all my fault."

Hiro stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Itadori's shoulder. "Hey, remember what I promised you? I said I'd bring Fushiguro back, and I never break my promises."

The sincerity in Hiro's voice seemed to lift some of the weight from Itadori and Kokichi's shoulders. They both managed genuine smiles, some of their earlier doubt dissipating.

"We're counting on you, Hiro," Kokichi said, his voice carrying a mixture of hope and trust.

With renewed determination, Itadori and Kokichi bid goodnight to Hiro and Maki, heading back to their respective rooms. As their footsteps faded away, Hiro and Maki resumed their journey to Maki's room.

Maki's voice broke the silence once more, her tone serious. "So, can you really defeat him?"

Hiro's jaw set with determination, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "It's not a question of whether I can or can't. I have to do it."

A small smile played on Maki's lips, pride and affection evident in her gaze. She admired Hiro's unwavering resolve, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

As they walked, Hiro's mind drifted to thoughts of the future – a future beyond the current crisis. "You know," he said, his voice soft and contemplative, "I want to have a child someday."

Maki's response was immediate and unequivocal. "Don't even dream about it," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Hiro chuckled, not surprised by her reaction. He knew Maki well enough to understand that her brusque response didn't necessarily mean a definitive 'no' – it was more of a 'not now, not with everything that's going on.'

They reached Maki's room, the familiar surroundings a welcome sight after the emotional roller coaster of the evening. As they prepared for bed, the weight of their responsibilities began to settle back onto their shoulders.

Hiro sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing with thoughts of the challenges that lay ahead. The absence of Gojo, the looming threat of Sukuna and Kenjaku, the fate of Megumi – it all swirled in his head, a tempest of worry and determination.

Maki, sensing his inner turmoil, sat beside him. She didn't offer empty words of comfort or false assurances. Instead, she simply leaned against him, her presence a silent reminder that he wasn't alone in this fight.

"We should get some sleep," Maki finally said, her voice soft but firm. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

Hiro nodded, grateful for her grounding presence. As they settled into bed, he found himself studying Maki's face in the dim moonlight. The strength and determination he saw there bolstered his own resolve.

Sleep came slowly, their minds too active with plans and worries to easily drift off. But as the night deepened, exhaustion finally claimed them, pulling them into a dreamless slumber.

Inside the Kamo mansion, in the dimly lit basement, Sukuna lowered himself into his blood bath, the crimson liquid rippling around his muscular form. The metallic scent of blood permeated the air, creating an atmosphere of eerie calm. Uraume, ever-present and loyal, stood nearby, their stoic face betraying a hint of satisfaction as they spoke.

"It seems you've finally submerged Fushiguro Megumi's soul," Uraume observed, their voice a soft whisper that echoed in the cavernous room.

Sukuna's lips curled into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with malevolent triumph. "Yes," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent chills down the spine. "After killing his sister, he lost all will to live. Now I can use his body freely, like a puppet dancing to my whims."

The sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase, growing louder as Kenjaku descended into the basement. His eyes, filled with curiosity and amusement, scanned the room before settling on Sukuna.

"My, my," Kenjaku remarked, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "It appears you're enjoying yourself immensely."

Sukuna merely grinned in response, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. His gaze wandered to a nearby table where an unconscious figure lay motionless. "By the way," he inquired, gesturing towards the prone form, "do you intend to use Gojo Satoru's body?"

Kenjaku's expression shifted, a mixture of contemplation and reluctance crossing his features. "Well," he began, his voice measured and thoughtful, "as much as I'd like to, I still need Suguru Geto's body for now. It serves a particular purpose that can't be fulfilled by any other vessel."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine curiosity passing over his face. "Then why do you need him?" he pressed, his tone demanding. "You could have left him in the confining prison, rotting away for eternity."

A sly smile spread across Kenjaku's face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I have something perfect in mind for him," he replied cryptically, clearly relishing the prospect of his plans coming to fruition.

Sukuna leaned back in his blood bath, the liquid sloshing gently around him. "I still can't believe that guy actually managed to render Satoru Gojo unconscious," he mused, a hint of grudging respect in his voice.

As if summoned by the mention of his deed, a deep, slow voice cut through the air. "Do you doubt my abilities?" The words hung heavy in the room, drawing everyone's attention to the newcomer.

A tall, pale man stood at the foot of the stairs, his presence commanding and intimidating. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the room with an icy gaze, while his jet-black hair was perfectly slicked back, not a strand out of place. He wore an immaculate black suit that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, adding to his imposing aura.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed as he regarded the man. "Oh, Miller," he drawled, a hint of mockery in his tone. "I didn't know you were lurking about."

The man's face tightened, a flicker of annoyance passing over his features. "I told you not to use my surname," he admonished, his voice a low growl. "Call me by my name, Ritsu."

A sardonic grin spread across Sukuna's face, his eyes gleaming with defiance. "I'll do as I please," he retorted, clearly enjoying the man's discomfort.

Ritsu's gaze lingered on Sukuna for a moment before shifting to the unconscious form of Gojo. His expression softened slightly, a mixture of pride and contemplation crossing his face. "Truthfully," he began, his voice taking on a reflective tone, "I thought my ritual would fail against him. After all, Satoru Gojo is the exception to everything. But my eyes," he paused, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his voice, "they're special too."

Kenjaku, sensing an opportunity to elaborate, stepped forward. "Ritsu's cursed ritual resides in his eyes," he explained, his voice filled with a twisted sort of admiration. "It makes you see an alternate reality, but it all occurs in your mind. It can be beautiful and tranquil, or it can be an eternal nightmare – like the one Satoru is currently enduring."

Sukuna's eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of genuine interest passing over his face. "Oh?" he mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So you're the one who knocked out the brat?" His eyes narrowed as he studied Ritsu more closely. "Come to think of it, you share the same surname as him – Hiro. What are you to him?"

At the mention of Hiro, Ritsu's demeanor changed abruptly. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode away, his footsteps echoing in the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Kenjaku watched him go, an amused smile playing on his lips. "He's a bit shy," he remarked, his voice laced with mock sympathy.

Suddenly, Kenjaku's expression shifted, a mixture of anticipation and wariness crossing his features. "We have a visitor," he announced, his voice tinged with excitement.

With swift, purposeful strides, Kenjaku ascended the stairs and made his way through the sprawling mansion. His face wore a smile, but there was an undercurrent of concern in his eyes as he navigated the corridors. Finally, he emerged into the main courtyard, where a familiar figure stood waiting.

Hiro Miller stood tall and resolute, his presence radiating power and determination. Kenjaku's smile widened as he approached, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "It's been a while," he remarked, studying Hiro's face intently.

Hiro's eyes, sharp and focused, met Kenjaku's gaze unflinchingly. "Is Sukuna here?" he asked, his voice steady and direct.

Kenjaku's smile turned coy, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "He might be, or he might not be," he replied evasively. "I couldn't say for certain."

In response, Hiro stretched out his fingers, a crackling purple lightning forming around his hand. The air hummed with energy, causing Kenjaku to tense visibly, his casual demeanor slipping for a moment.

Before the situation could escalate further, Sukuna appeared, his imposing presence filling the courtyard. "Brat," he called out, his voice a mixture of amusement and anticipation. "Were you looking for me?"

Hiro lowered his hand, the lightning dissipating into the air. His eyes locked onto Sukuna, unwavering and intense. "I wanted to propose something to you," he stated, his voice calm but filled with resolve.

Sukuna's interest was piqued, his eyebrows raising slightly. "What do you want?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Hiro's next words hung heavy in the air, charged with determination and challenge. "One month," he declared. "In one month, I'll become stronger than you."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Sukuna's face, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Oh?" he mused, his voice dripping with anticipation. "Are you proposing we fight in a month's time?"

Hiro nodded once, his resolve unwavering.

Sukuna's smile widened, revealing his sharp teeth. "I've been dying to fight you, Hiro Miller," he admitted, his voice filled with a twisted sort of respect. "You're the opponent I've most longed to face. We've fought three times before, but we've never reached a conclusion. This," he paused, his eyes burning with intensity, "this will be the last time."

Hiro nodded again, his face a mask of determination. "Today is November 19th," he stated, his voice steady and clear. "The battle will be on December 20th, in Shinjuku."

Sukuna's grin became almost feral, his excitement palpable in the air. "Deal, brat," he agreed, his voice filled with anticipation. "Don't disappoint me."

Kenjaku, who had been watching the exchange with rapt attention, clapped his hands together in delight. "How exciting!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with childlike glee. "I'll bring popcorn."

As the tension in the air began to dissipate, a figure emerged from the shadows. Ritsu appeared, his eyes fixed on Hiro, his voice barely above a whisper as he uttered, "Hiro Miller..."

Hiro noticed him, his eyebrow arching in recognition. Ritsu's voice grew stronger as he asked, "How did you escape my eternal dream?"

A flicker of realization passed over Hiro's face, followed quickly by a flash of anger. "Now I remember you," he growled, his voice laced with contempt. "You were the idiot who put me to sleep."

Ritsu stretched out his hand, his eyes beginning to glow with an otherworldly light. But before he could act, Sukuna's voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Don't even think about it," Sukuna warned, his voice low and dangerous. "He's mine."

Ritsu's hand dropped to his side, the glow in his eyes fading as quickly as it had appeared.

Hiro's gaze swept over the assembled group one last time, his eyes lingering on Sukuna. "Until then," he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.

With that, Hiro turned and walked away, his steps measured and purposeful. The others watched him go, each lost in their own thoughts about the coming battle and the shifts in power it might bring.

As Hiro's figure disappeared into the distance, a heavy silence fell over the courtyard. The air was thick with anticipation, the promise of the coming confrontation hanging over them all like a storm cloud. In just one month, the fate of their world would be decided, and none could predict what the outcome would be.

In one of the conference rooms of the Tokyo Jujutsu High, a group of powerful sorcerers gathered: Hiro, Maki, Yuta, Kusakabe, Kokichi, Kamo, Choso, and Itadori. The air was thick with tension as they discussed the looming battle that would determine the fate of their world.

Kusakabe, his face etched with concern, broke the silence. "So, we have a month until this battle," he began, his voice steady but tinged with worry. "We need to think of a plan."

Hiro, leaning back in his chair with an air of confident nonchalance, replied, "You all think of one yourselves. I already have mine."

Kusakabe's brow furrowed, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. "I don't want to sound pessimistic, but Sukuna is strong. Too strong."

"I know," Hiro acknowledged, his voice calm and unwavering.

Kusakabe pressed on, his hands clasped tightly on the table. "That's why we need to devise a strategy where we all fight together. It's too risky for you to go alone."

Hiro's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of steel entering his voice. "You're wrong, Kusakabe. I need to fight him first. Otherwise, you won't stand a chance against him. In fact, for your plan to work, it depends heavily on a technique."

Curiosity piqued, Kusakabe leaned forward. "What technique?"

"One I've been thinking about for a while now," Hiro explained, his voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and determination. "I have this entire month to develop it."

Skepticism crept into Kusakabe's voice. "And with that, you'll defeat Sukuna?"

Hiro shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, with this technique, I'll be able to fight him on equal terms."

Confusion spread across Kusakabe's face. "What do you mean?"

"I'd prefer to keep it to myself for now," Hiro replied, his voice measured. "They're mere speculations of mine, about a plan B of Kenjaku's."

Kusakabe, still not entirely convinced, pressed further. "Then what will your training consist of?"

Hiro's eyes gleamed with determination as he spoke. "Sukuna is the strongest sorcerer in history. So, I must become the fastest sorcerer. I'll work on my speed, the new technique, and my domain expansion. I'll make some modifications to it."

A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only when Hiro spoke again, his voice low and serious. "To be honest, I have to defeat Sukuna three times."

Another moment of silence followed, the weight of Hiro's words settling over the group. Then, unexpectedly, Kokichi's voice rang out, filled with unwavering faith. "I trust that you'll do it."

Maki's voice followed, steady and sure. "And so do I."

Itadori's enthusiasm cut through the tension, his voice loud and energetic. "Me too!"

Choso simply smiled and nodded, his silent support speaking volumes.

A small smile tugged at Hiro's lips as he looked around at his comrades. "Good," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and resolve.

As the meeting concluded, the sorcerers dispersed, each lost in their own thoughts about the coming battle and the challenges that lay ahead. Hiro made his way to the common room, his mind swirling with plans and strategies.

The common room was quiet, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. Hiro sank into one of the comfortable armchairs, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to organize his thoughts.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke through his reverie. Opening his eyes, he saw Kugisaki entering the room, her presence immediately filling the space with a familiar warmth.

"Hey," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she took a seat across from him.

"Hey yourself," Hiro replied, unable to keep a hint of fondness from creeping into his voice.

As Kugisaki settled into her chair, a comfortable silence fell between them. Hiro found his mind wandering back to the dream world he had been trapped in for what felt like 13 years. The memory of their imagined life together - their marriage, their son Satoru - felt so vivid, so real, that for a moment, he almost forgot it had all been an illusion.

Kugisaki, noticing the distant look in his eyes, leaned forward slightly. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, her voice gentle and curious.

Hiro blinked, pulling himself back to the present. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I was just thinking about... about that dream world," he finally said, his voice soft.

Kugisaki's expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and curiosity in her eyes. "Itadori told me about it," she said, her voice equally quiet. "It must have been... intense."

Hiro nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "That's one way to put it," he agreed. "Thirteen years of a life that never happened. A marriage, a child... it all felt so real."

Kugisaki shifted in her seat, her eyes never leaving Hiro's face. "What was it like?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine interest. "Our... life together?"

Hiro's eyes met hers, a flood of memories - both real and imagined - washing over him. "It was... beautiful," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were happy. We had a son named Satoru. He was brilliant, just like his mother."

A faint blush colored Kugisaki's cheeks, but she didn't look away. "It sounds like a nice dream," she said softly.

"It was," Hiro agreed, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "But it wasn't real. And now... now we're facing a reality that's far more dangerous and uncertain."

Kugisaki nodded, her expression turning serious. "The fight with Sukuna," she said, her voice laced with concern. "Are you... are you ready for it?"

Hiro's jaw set, determination flashing in his eyes. "I have to be," he replied. "There's too much at stake. Too many people counting on me."

Kugisaki leaned forward, placing a hand on Hiro's arm. The touch sent a jolt through him, reminiscent of countless tender moments in his dream world. "You're not alone in this," she said firmly. "We're all here with you. We'll face this together."

Hiro's eyes met hers, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken, passing between them. For a moment, the line between dream and reality blurred, and Hiro found himself longing for the simple, peaceful life he had experienced in his mind.

But reality reasserted itself quickly. Hiro knew that the challenges ahead were far greater than any domestic bliss he might have imagined. Still, having Kugisaki here, supporting him, believing in him... it gave him strength he hadn't realized he needed.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "It means more than you know."

Kugisaki squeezed his arm gently before letting go, a soft smile on her face. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Friends. The word echoed in Hiro's mind, stirring up a complex mix of emotions. In his dream world, they had been so much more than friends. But here, in the harsh light of reality, with the threat of Sukuna looming over them all, was there room for anything beyond friendship?

As if sensing the turmoil in his mind, Kugisaki spoke again, her voice gentle but firm. "Whatever happens, Hiro, know that we're all behind you. We believe in you."

Hiro nodded, forcing a small smile. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice filled with resolve.

Suddenly, the door to the common room swung open with a forceful push. Maki strode in, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the scene before her. Her gaze flickered between Hiro and Kugisaki, noting their close proximity and the intense look they shared.

"Am I interrupting something?" Maki asked, her voice carrying an edge that was impossible to miss. Her usually stoic expression was marred by a slight frown, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.

Hiro, caught off guard by Maki's sudden appearance and the unexpected tone in her voice, felt a rush of nervous energy course through him. He straightened in his chair, his posture becoming rigid as he struggled to find the right words.

"Maki! I... we... we were just talking about the upcoming battle," Hiro stammered, his usual composure deserting him. He ran a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of his discomfort.

Kugisaki, sensing the sudden tension in the room, shifted slightly in her seat. Her eyes darted between Hiro and Maki, a flicker of understanding passing across her face.

"Yeah, Hiro was just filling me in on some of the plans," Kugisaki added, her voice calm but with a hint of caution.

Maki's eyebrow arched skeptically. "Plans? I wasn't aware we had finalized any strategies yet," she said, her tone cool and measured. She moved further into the room, her presence seeming to fill the space.

Hiro felt a bead of sweat form on his brow. The atmosphere in the room had shifted dramatically, and he found himself at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Just as the silence was becoming unbearable, the door opened again. Kokichi walked in, his eyes quickly assessing the tense situation.

"Oh, here you all are," Kokichi said, his voice cheerful and seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension. "Hiro, I've been looking for you. We need to go over some of the technical aspects of your new technique."

Hiro latched onto this lifeline with visible relief. "Right, of course," he said, standing up perhaps a bit too quickly. "We should definitely do that now."

He turned to Kugisaki and Maki, trying to keep his voice steady. "If you'll excuse us, this is quite important for our preparations."

Maki's eyes remained fixed on Hiro, her expression unreadable. "Of course," she said, her voice neutral but with an undercurrent of something Hiro couldn't quite place. "We wouldn't want to delay your... preparations."

Kugisaki nodded, offering a small smile. "Good luck with the technique, Hiro," she said softly.

As Hiro followed Kokichi out of the room, he could feel Maki's gaze burning into his back. The door closed behind them, and Hiro let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Thank you," he murmured to Kokichi as they walked down the hallway. "Your timing was impeccable."

Kokichi glanced at him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "I'm not sure what was going on in there, but it seemed like you could use an exit strategy," he said.