Suguru Geto

The journey back to the school was a quiet one, the only sound the crunching of snow beneath their feet and the occasional gust of wind whistling through the trees. Hiro and Gojo walked side by side, their breaths puffing out in white clouds in the frigid air.

As they approached the gates of the school, Hiro couldn't help but shiver, his teeth chattering as a particularly icy blast of wind cut through his thin clothing.

"Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his arms in a futile attempt to generate warmth. "When we left, it was summer. I didn't even think to bring a sweater."

Gojo chuckled, seeming utterly unbothered by the cold despite his own lack of winter gear. "That's the price of progress, my young apprentice. Time flies when you're pushing yourself to the brink of human endurance."

Hiro just grumbled in response, too tired and frozen to come up with a proper retort. All he wanted was to get inside, to feel the blessed warmth of central heating on his chilled skin.

As they stepped through the doors of the school, Hiro felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. The familiar scents, the well-worn floors, the distant sounds of students chattering and laughing...

It was like coming home, after a long and arduous journey.

They made their way to the common room, Hiro's legs feeling heavier with each step. By the time they reached the couch, he was practically dragging himself, his muscles screaming in protest.

With a groan, he collapsed onto the cushions, his body sinking into the soft fabric like a stone into water. Every bone in his body ached, every nerve felt raw and frayed.

"I can't move," he mumbled, his face half-buried in a pillow. "I think I'm dying."

Gojo snorted, plopping down in an armchair across from him. "Don't be so dramatic. You're not dying, you're just feeling the consequences of your training."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled under his chin.

"Your body is finally allowing itself to relax, to feel the full extent of the strain you've put it under. It's a natural response, but it means you're going to be weaker than a newborn kitten for the next week or so."

Hiro groaned again, the sound muffled by the pillow. "Fantastic. Just what I always wanted, to be as helpless as a baby animal."

Gojo's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Think of it as a vacation. A chance to rest and recover, to let your body heal and grow stronger."

Hiro was about to reply with a sarcastic comment, but the words died on his tongue as the door to the common room suddenly swung open.

And there, standing in the doorway, was Maki.

For a moment, Hiro forgot how to breathe. Forgot how to think, how to move.

All he could do was stare, drinking in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.

She was beautiful. Even more so than he remembered, with her hair windswept and her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her eyes sparkled with something warm and bright, something that made Hiro's heart skip a beat in his chest.

"Maki," he breathed, struggling to sit up on the couch. "You're here."

Maki raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Of course I'm here, idiot. Where else would I be?"

She stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. Her gaze swept over Hiro, taking in his disheveled appearance, the bruises and scrapes that littered his skin.

"You look like hell," she said bluntly, but there was a note of concern in her voice. "What did Gojo do to you out there?"

Hiro opened his mouth to reply, but Gojo beat him to it.

"I put him through the wringer," the older sorcerer said cheerfully, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Pushed him to his limits and then some. Our boy here is going to be a force to be reckoned with, once he recovers."

Maki's eyes narrowed, her gaze shifting to Gojo. "And you didn't think to bring him back in one piece? Look at him, he can barely move!"

Gojo held up his hands in a placating gesture, but the gleam in his eye was anything but apologetic. "Relax, Zenin. He's fine. A little sore, maybe, but that's to be expected. He'll be back to his old self in no time."

Maki looked like she wanted to argue, but a groan from Hiro drew her attention back to the couch.

"It's okay, Maki," he said, wincing as he tried to sit up straighter. "I can handle it. I'm not made of glass."

Maki's expression softened, just a fraction. She moved to the couch, perching on the edge next to Hiro.

"I know you're not," she said quietly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "But that doesn't mean I have to like seeing you in pain."

Hiro's breath caught in his throat, his skin tingling where her fingers had touched.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, catching her hand in his own. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Maki's fingers tightened around his, her palm warm and calloused against his skin.

"I know," she said softly. "Just... try to be more careful, okay? I kind of need you in one piece."

Hiro's heart swelled, a rush of emotion rising up in his throat. He wanted to pull her close, to bury his face in her hair and breathe in her scent.

But he was acutely aware of Gojo's presence, of the way the older sorcerer was watching them with a knowing glint in his eye.

So instead, he settled for squeezing Maki's hand, hoping she could feel all the things he couldn't say out loud.

"I promise," he said, his voice rough with feeling. "I'll be more careful. For you."

Maki's smile widened, just a fraction. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his for a brief, precious moment.

"Good," she whispered, her breath warm on his skin. "Because I've got plans for you, Hiro Miller. And they don't involve you being bedridden."

Hiro's heart stuttered in his chest, his face flushing hot. Behind Maki, he could see Gojo's eyebrows climbing towards his hairline, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Oh?" the older sorcerer said, his tone dripping with innuendo. "Do tell, Zenin. What kind of plans are we talking about here?"

Maki shot him a withering glare over her shoulder. "None of your business, pervert."

Gojo clutched at his chest, a look of mock hurt on his face. "Pervert? Moi? I'll have you know I am a paragon of virtue and chastity."

Hiro snorted, unable to help himself. "Yeah, right. And I'm the queen of England."

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well, Your Majesty, I'll leave you in the capable hands of your lady love. Try not to do anything I wouldn't do."

With that, he heaved himself out of the chair, giving them both a jaunty wave as he sauntered out of the room.

Hiro watched him go, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over him. As much as he adored Gojo, the man had a talent for making even the most innocent of interactions feel vaguely dirty.

He turned back to Maki, an apology on his lips. But before he could speak, she leaned in and kissed him, her mouth soft and warm against his own.

Hiro melted into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. For a moment, everything else faded away - the aches in his body, the chill of the winter air, the nagging worries about the future.

All that mattered was Maki. The feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his tongue.

The knowledge that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, he would face them with her by his side.

They broke apart after a long moment, both of them flushed and breathless. Maki rested her forehead against Hiro's, her eyes shining with something warm and tender.

"Welcome home," she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

And Hiro felt his heart swell, a lump rising in his throat.

Because she was right. This was home. Not the school, not the dorms or the classrooms...

But her. Maki. The girl he loved, the partner he trusted.

The future he wanted, more than anything in the world.

"It's good to be back," he said softly, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair.

And as they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, the winter chill held at bay by the warmth of their embrace...

__________

The next morning, snow was falling gently as Yuta, Hiro, Panda, Inumaki, and Maki walked through the school grounds. Panda, in the middle of a random fact, piped up.

"Hey, did you know pandas can be smarter than humans?"

Hiro snorted, rolling his eyes. "If that were true, you wouldn't be on the brink of extinction from falling out of trees like idiots."

Suddenly, a large shadow loomed overhead. A curse in the shape of a pelican descended, landing right in front of them. Panda blinked, confusion on his furry face.

"Is that curse from the school? I don't recognize it."

Maki, her expression neutral, drew her spear. "I don't think so."

Yuta stared at the bird-like creature, his eyes wide with wonder. "A giant pelican!"

Hiro, on the other hand, looked contemplative. "Think I could keep it as a pet?"

Just then, two young girls in school uniforms hopped off the pelican's back. One of them, her nose wrinkled in distaste, spoke up.

"Mr. Geto, are we really in Tokyo? It smells bad and looks ugly."

The other girl, looking embarrassed, quickly chided her companion. "Nanako, don't be rude!"

The man they had addressed as Geto surveyed the surroundings, a nostalgic smile on his face. "Wow, this place hasn't changed a bit."

Hiro, his patience wearing thin, stepped forward. "Hey, if you're here to beg for donations for your voodoo temple, beat it."

Panda nodded, backing him up. "Yeah, if you don't leave, Yuta will give you a beating."

Maki, her tone deadpan, added, "You don't want to make Yuta angry."

Yuta, looking suddenly nervous, held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Guys, maybe we shouldn't-"

But Hiro was on a roll, his earlier frustrations finding a new target. "Listen, bird brain and company, this is a school for sorcerers, not a petting zoo. So unless you want to end up as cursed fried chicken, I suggest you flap those wings and fly away."

In a flash of movement too fast for anyone to react, Geto gently took Yuta's hands in his own. Everyone froze, shocked by the sudden display of speed. Hiro's mind raced, a sinking realization settling in his gut. This guy... he was no ordinary monk.

Geto smiled, his eyes fixed on Yuta's startled face. "At last, we meet, Okkotsu. I've been looking forward to this moment."

Yuta blinked, confusion etched across his features. "Me? But... why?"

Geto released Yuta's hands, taking a step back and spreading his arms wide. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Suguru Geto, and I've come to you with a proposition."

He began to pace around Yuta, his voice taking on a fervent, almost fanatical tone. "You see, Okkotsu, you were born with a great gift. A power that, if harnessed correctly, could change the very fabric of our world."

Hiro, his patience wearing thin, cut in sharply. "Get to the point, you stupid monk. What do you want with Yuta?"

Geto's smile widened, a glint of something unsettling in his eyes. "It's quite simple, really. I want you to help me kill every non-sorcerer on the planet."

A heavy silence fell over the group, the weight of Geto's words sinking in like lead. Hiro's mind flashed to his father's teachings, the lessons drilled into him since childhood.

"We stay hidden to maintain the balance," he muttered, almost to himself. "We were born strong so we could fight for those who can't."

In his hand, the crackle of electricity began to gather, coalescing into a shimmering blue sphere. His Azure Lightning, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

Geto's eyes fell on the crackling orb, a look of hunger crossing his face. Such power, he thought. Such potential.

But before Hiro could make a move, Gojo materialized beside them, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

"Hiro," he said, his voice low and urgent. "If you use that technique in your current state, the backlash will be severe. Stand down."

Hiro hesitated, the sphere of lightning pulsing in his palm. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he let the energy dissipate, the glow fading from his hand.

Geto's smile turned predatory as he turned to face Gojo. "Satoru. It's been too long."

Gojo's jaw tightened, his stance shifting subtly into one of readiness. "Suguru. I thought I told you to stay away from my students."

Geto laughed, the sound devoid of warmth. "Ah, but how could I resist? Especially when you've gathered such a fascinating group."

He began to pace again, his gaze roving over each of them in turn. "A cursed child of special grade," he said, nodding at Yuta. "A transferred student of first class," he continued, his eyes lingering on Hiro.

"An unusual cursed corpse," he mused, glancing at Panda. "A wielder of cursed speech," he added, his gaze falling on Inumaki.

Then, his smile turning cruel, he locked eyes with Maki. "And of course, the disappointment of the Zenin clan."

Maki stiffened, her hand tightening around her spear. "Watch your mouth, you bastard," she snarled, her eyes flashing with anger.

Geto held up a placating hand, his expression mockingly apologetic. "Careful with that tone, girl. I have no use for monkeys in my perfect world."

Hiro scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "With those ears, you're the only monkey here, pal."

Geto's laughter rang out, sharp and cutting. "He's just like you, Satoru. Did you train him yourself?"

Gojo's expression remained stony. "He came that way out of the box, I'm afraid."

Yuta, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm sorry, Mr. Geto, but I can't help you. Not if your plan involves hurting my friends."

Geto's smile faded, his eyes hardening. "Pity. I had hoped you would see reason."

He turned back to Gojo, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. "I suppose you're wondering why I've really come, Satoru."

Gojo tilted his head, his sunglasses glinting in the light. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes."

Geto spread his arms wide, his voice ringing out with conviction. "I've come to declare war. Tomorrow, on Christmas Day, I will unleash a thousand curses upon Tokyo and Kyoto. The first step in creating my perfect world."

Hiro balked, his eyebrows shooting up. "Hold up, you psycho. Tomorrow is Christmas!"

Geto chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, Hiro. You truly are amusing. You remind me of Satoru when he was young and naive."

His smile turned patronizing, his tone dripping with condescension. "But you must learn your place in the grand scheme of things. The opinions of lessers mean nothing to me."

Gojo's lips twitched, a hint of amusement breaking through his serious facade. "You might be surprised by what this 'lesser' can do, Suguru. I trained him myself, after all."

Geto's eyebrows rose, a flicker of interest in his gaze. "Is that so? Well, perhaps he will provide some entertainment before the end."

Just then, Nanako tugged at Geto's sleeve, a pout on her face. "Mr. Geto, the crepe stand is about to close! We need to go!"

Geto sighed, looking put-upon. "Duty calls, it seems. We'll have to continue this riveting conversation another time."

He made to turn away, but Gojo's voice stopped him in his tracks. "You don't really think we're just going to let you walk away, do you?"

Geto smiled, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "Oh, Satoru. You always were too soft for your own good."

Suddenly, a horde of curses materialized around the students, their grotesque forms pressing in from all sides. Geto's voice rang out, calm and confident.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Satoru. Your precious students are awfully close to my line of fire."

With that, he leaped onto the back of the waiting pelican, Nanako and Mimiko clambering up behind him.

"Until next time, old friend," he called, his voice fading as the massive bird took to the sky. "I look forward to seeing what your little prodigies can do."

And then they were gone, vanishing into the swirling snow like ghosts.

For a long moment, no one spoke, the weight of Geto's threats hanging heavy in the air.

Then, Hiro broke the silence, his voice tight with anger.

"Well, shit. Looks like Christmas is canceled."

Maki shot him a look, but there was no heat behind it. "This is serious, Hiro. If Geto makes good on his promise..."

She trailed off, the implications too terrible to voice aloud.

Gojo clapped his hands together, the sound startling in the tense silence. "Alright, kiddos. Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

He grinned, the expression at odds with the gravity of the situation. "Who's ready to save the world and be home in time for presents?"

Yuta and Panda exchanged a look, uncertainty written across their faces. Inumaki just sighed, muttering a quiet "kelp" under his breath.

But Hiro and Maki...

They just nodded, determination burning in their eyes.

____________

Hiro stood in his room, his battered body a canvas of bruises and bandages. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through his muscles, a stark reminder of the intense training he'd endured. But he gritted his teeth and pushed through, his determination unwavering.

As he wrapped the last of the bandages around his torso, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Gojo leaned against the frame, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation.

"You know your body hasn't fully recovered yet, right?" he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "It's only been three days. You need at least another four before you can even consider stretching, let alone fighting."

Hiro shrugged, wincing slightly at the motion. "That idiot Geto insulted my Maki. Obviously, I have to give him a beatdown."

Gojo sighed, pushing off from the doorframe and stepping into the room. "Geto is one of the few special grade sorcerers in the world, Hiro. Don't underestimate him."

"I know that," Hiro said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "But even so, I can at least take out a couple of curses, right?"

Gojo studied him for a long moment, his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses. Then, with a shake of his head, he relented.

"There's no convincing you, is there, kid?" he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, fine. Just make sure you put on a good show out there, golden boy."

With that, he turned and strolled out of the room, leaving Hiro alone with his thoughts.

But not for long. Moments later, Maki appeared in the doorway, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Are you seriously going out there, you idiot?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she took in Hiro's battered state.

Hiro glanced over his shoulder, flashing her a cocky grin as he pulled his shirt on. "Of course I am. They need the school's greatest prodigy out there, don't they?"

Maki scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your body can't handle it, Hiro. You're pushing yourself too hard."

Hiro waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the twinge of pain the motion sent through his shoulder. "I'm fine, Maki. This is nothing."

But Maki wasn't convinced. She strode into the room, her eyes blazing with determination. Before Hiro could react, she shoved him backwards, sending him toppling onto the bed.

In an instant, she was on top of him, her face mere inches from his own. Hiro could feel her breath ghosting across his skin, could see the flecks of gold in her fierce eyes.

"If you don't go," she said, her voice low and husky, "we'll have the whole school to ourselves. To do... you know."

For a moment, Hiro was tempted. Sorely tempted. But then, with a herculean effort, he pushed the thought aside.

"You're just trying to convince me not to go," he said, his voice strained. He sat up, gently but firmly pushing Maki off of him.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

Maki sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "It's not about trust, Hiro. It's about you being too reckless for your own good."

She fixed him with a pointed look, her expression serious. "Remember what happened when you fought Naoya?"

Hiro winced, the memory of that particular beatdown still fresh in his mind. But he pushed the thought aside, his jaw setting with determination.

"This is different," he said, his voice firm. "This is my duty as a sorcerer, Maki. I can't just sit by and do nothing."

Maki rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "Fine, do what you want, you idiot," she snapped, turning on her heel and stalking out of the room.

Hiro watched her go, a mix of frustration and fondness swirling in his chest. She was just worried about him, he knew that. But he also knew that he couldn't back down, not now.

With a sigh, he finished dressing and made his way out of the room, his steps heavy but determined.

He walked through the halls of the school, his mind racing with thoughts of the battle to come. He knew it wouldn't be easy, knew that he was far from his best. But he also knew that he couldn't sit this one out, not with so much at stake.

Finally, he reached the entrance, where Gojo was waiting for him. The older sorcerer grinned, his teeth flashing white in the sunlight.

"Ready to go, my golden boy?" he asked, his voice cheerful despite the gravity of the situation.

Hiro nodded, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath. He could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through his veins, could feel the familiar crackle of electricity at his fingertips.

He was ready. Ready to fight, to protect, to prove himself once and for all.

*Content Warning: This story contains scenes of violence and supernatural battles.*

The evacuated center of Tokyo was eerily quiet, the usually bustling streets now empty and lifeless. But the silence was soon shattered by the sound of the parade, a grotesque procession of curses and twisted spirits.

Amidst the sea of writhing, malevolent entities, one curse in particular caught Gojo's eye. He frowned, his brow furrowing behind his sunglasses.

"Strange," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the parade. "Suguru loves attention. You'd think he'd be front and center."

Beside him, Principal Yaga stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Could he be in Kyoto instead?"

Gojo hummed, his eyes scanning the skyline. "Perhaps."

His gaze settled on a figure perched atop a distant building, a man with dark skin and an aura of immense power. Gojo didn't know it, but his name was Miguel.

For a moment, Gojo's thoughts turned to Hiro. The boy would have made an excellent sparring partner for Miguel, a chance to test his skills against a formidable opponent. But one look at Hiro's battered form, and Gojo knew it wasn't an option.

"I'll handle him," Gojo said, nodding towards Miguel. "He seems particularly strong. Hiro, you focus on the curses. Keep your distance and stick to basic lightning attacks. None of the fancy techniques we practiced, got it?"

Hiro nodded, his jaw set with determination. Gojo grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

"And if you see Geto, feel free to give him a solid punch from me."

Hiro returned the grin, his eyes sparking with anticipation. "You got it, sensei."

The battle that followed was chaos incarnate. Curses swarmed the streets, their twisted forms clashing with the bright flashes of jujutsu techniques. The air was thick with the stench of blood and cursed energy, the sounds of screams and explosions echoing off the buildings.

Hiro was a blur of motion, his lightning crackling and snapping as he tore through curse after curse. But even as he fought, he could feel his body straining, the toll of his injuries and exhaustion weighing him down.

Across the battlefield, Gojo was locked in combat with Miguel, the two titans trading blows that shook the very foundations of the city. With a massive burst of cursed energy, Gojo sent Miguel flying, the dark-skinned sorcerer crashing through a building and out of sight.

Gojo returned to Yaga's side, his expression grim. "Any sign of Suguru?" he asked, his voice tense.

Yaga shook his head. "None. Not here, not in Kyoto."

Gojo's frown deepened, a sense of unease settling in his gut. "I don't like this. What if he went straight for Okkotsu?"

His gaze fell on Panda and Inumaki, the two first-years fighting valiantly against the endless tide of curses. For a moment, he considered sending them to the school, to back up Yuta and Maki.

But he hesitated. If he sent them, there was a chance Geto would simply kill them outright. And if Yuta fell... the consequences could be catastrophic.

Gojo cursed himself silently. He had been so focused on training Hiro, on honing the American's incredible potential. He had neglected Yuta, left him vulnerable.

But then his eyes fell on Hiro again, and a glimmer of an idea began to form.

If Hiro were at full strength, if he hadn't spent the last few days pushing himself to the brink of collapse... perhaps he could have done it. Perhaps he could have faced Geto and emerged victorious.

It was a long shot, Gojo knew. Hiro was strong, incredibly so. But Geto was a monster, a true nightmare given flesh.

Still... if anyone could pull off a miracle, it was Hiro. The boy had a knack for exceeding expectations, for achieving the impossible.

And even if he couldn't win, he could at least buy time. Hold Geto off until Gojo could arrive, until the cavalry could come charging in.

It was a gamble. A huge, risky, potentially disastrous gamble.

But what choice did they have?

Mind made up, Gojo called out across the battlefield, his voice cutting through the din like a knife.

"Hiro! To me, now!"

In an instant, Hiro was at his side, his chest heaving and his face streaked with sweat and grime.

Gojo wasted no time. With quick, precise movements, he sketched a pentagram on the ground, the lines glowing with an eerie blue light.

"Listen carefully," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "Geto is likely at the school. I need you to get there, to protect Yuta and Maki. Buy as much time as you can until I arrive."

Hiro's eyes widened, a mix of excitement and trepidation dancing in their blue depths. "You want me to take them on alone?"

Gojo grinned, but there was a tightness around his eyes, a tension in his jaw.

"I want you to give them hell, golden boy. Show them what Hiro Miller is made of."

Hiro returned the grin, his face set with grim determination. "I'll do more than that, sensei. I'll bring you Geto's head on a platter."

Gojo laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just focus on staying alive, yeah?"

Hiro sobered, giving a sharp nod. "I won't let you down, sensei. I swear it."

Gojo clapped him on the shoulder one last time, his grip firm and reassuring. "I know you won't, kid. Now go. And may the gods be with you."

With that, he activated the pentagram, and Hiro vanished in a flash of blinding light.

For a moment, Gojo just stood there, staring at the spot where his student had been. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned back to the battle, his jaw set and his eyes hard.

He had a city to save, a world to protect.

And heaven help anyone who stood in his way.

Miles away, on the grounds of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, a figure appeared in the sky, hurtling towards the earth like a shooting star.

Hiro hit the ground hard, his impact cratering the pavement and sending up a cloud of dust and debris. But he was on his feet in an instant, lightning crackling around his fists and a fierce grin on his face.

Before him stood Suguru Geto...

"I wasn't expecting you, Hiro," Geto said, his voice smooth and mocking. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Hiro cracked his knuckles, his grin turning savage.

"I'm here to wipe the floor with you, you pompous son of a bitch. I'm here to show you what happens when you mess with my friends, my school."

He took a step forward, the air around him shimmering with heat and power.

"I'm here to end this, Geto. Once and for all."

Geto threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing across the empty schoolyard.

"You? End me? Oh, you poor, deluded child."

____________

Author's note:

Hi guys, first of all I want to thank you for your constant comments and support!

I would also like to ask you what pace you would like the story to take? Action, romance or slice of life? Or maybe balance it between the 3 (which is originally what I want to do) but anyway I would like to know what you guys like more and what you expect from the story, thanks for reading and.... I read it!