บท 39: The awakening
Hiro slowly gets out of bed, feeling every ache in his battered body. Despite the lingering pain, he can sense that his cursed energy has returned, a small yet significant sign of recovery. He instinctively reaches out to embrace Maki but finds the space next to him empty. He then remembers she got up early to head to the Zenin clan in Kyoto.
With a wry smile, Hiro murmurs to himself, "More hours of sleep for me." Just as he settles back into bed, envisioning a few more moments of rest, the door bursts open.
Megumi and Itadori stand in the doorway, their expressions a mix of urgency and excitement. "Hiro, it's time to get up," Megumi says.
Itadori, with his usual enthusiasm, adds, "Come on, senpai. We've got a lot to do today!"
Hiro, half-amused and half-annoyed, groans as he pulls himself out of bed. "Alright, alright, I'm up."
Hiro, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, motions for Megumi and Itadori to step out. "Give me a minute to change, guys."
After they leave, Hiro rummages through his clothes and pulls out a leather jacket. As he slips it on, he mutters to himself, "It's freezing," and then chuckles. "Good thing Maki isn't here to see this. She hates this jacket."
Hiro stands in front of the mirror, meticulously fixing his hair. His mind wanders back to the previous day, replaying a significant conversation in the room with Tengen.
Megumi, with a serious look on his face, approaches Hiro. "Senpai, I have a favor to ask of you."
Hiro, turning to face him, asks, "What's up, Megumi?"
Megumi takes a deep breath before speaking. "My sister... she's one of the awakened ones, a participant in the Culling Game. Could you... would you save her?"
Hiro's expression softens, understanding the weight of Megumi's request. "Don't worry, Megumi. I'll do it. I'll save her."
Megumi's face reveals a mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Hiro. I don't know what I'd do without you."
The memory fades as Hiro finishes styling his hair. His reflection in the mirror now shows a man ready and determined. The promise he made to Megumi adds a sense of purpose to his demeanor.
Stepping out of his room, Hiro is now fully prepared to face the day's challenges. With each step, his resolve strengthens, knowing he carries not just his own burdens but the hopes and trust of his friends. As he joins Megumi and Itadori, his confident stride and determined gaze speak volumes of his readiness to take on the Culling Game and protect those dear to him.
__________
On a train bound for Kyoto, Maki sits by the window, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape. With her good eye, she absorbs the blur of colors and shapes, while her fingers absentmindedly trace the raised scars on her arm – a tactile reminder of the battles she has endured. The scars feel like rugged terrain on a battle-worn map, each one marking a story of pain, loss, and survival.
Her touch grows increasingly firmer, almost as if she's trying to erase the memories etched into her skin. Memories of Kugisaki flood her mind – the joyful ones mingling with the painful, each a poignant echo of a friendship cherished and mourned. The intensity of her rubbing escalates until she lets out a soft whimper of pain, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.
Just then, Yazu arrives with two thermoses of coffee. "Here, senpai," he says, offering her one with a warm, reassuring smile as he takes a seat beside her.
Maki stops rubbing her scar and accepts the coffee, returning Yazu's smile with a faint one of her own. The simple act of kindness from Yazu brings a momentary relief from her reverie, a reminder of the support and camaraderie that still surrounds her. As she sips the coffee, the warmth of the drink is a small comfort against the chill of her memories and the physical ache in her arm. For now, it's a welcome distraction as she prepares herself for the challenges that await in Kyoto.
Yazu, noticing the silence between them, realizes that he hasn't often interacted directly with Maki. Wanting to break the ice and start a conversation, he decides to ask about something that might be common ground – Hiro. However, his choice of topic and phrasing turns out to be a bit more awkward than he intended.
"Um, Senpai," Yazu starts hesitantly, trying to find the right words. "Is Hiro really the... well, the stud he always claims to be?"
Maki, caught off guard by the question, raises an eyebrow. She gives Yazu a look that's a mix of surprise and slight amusement. "Is that really what you want to talk about?"
Yazu, realizing his blunder, starts to stammer. "I-I mean, Hiro always talks a big game and I just... I was curious, you know?"
Maki chuckles, shaking her head. "Hiro has many qualities. Some of them are as he describes, others... well, let's just say he has a talent for exaggeration."
Yazu nods, a bit embarrassed but relieved that Maki isn't taking his question too seriously. "I figured as much. He can be a bit much sometimes."
Maki sips her coffee, her smile lingering. "That's Hiro for you. But underneath all that bravado, there's a good heart. And a strong sorcerer, no doubt."
Maki, looking contemplative, turns the conversation around to Yazu. "So, what do you think of Hiro? When you first arrived, you were quite full of yourself. Hiro knocked you down a peg that same day, and since then, you've been much more humble, always trailing behind him."
Yazu, reflecting on Maki's words, nods. "Yeah, you're right. I came in thinking I knew it all. But Hiro, he showed me I had a lot to learn. He didn't hold back, and honestly, I needed that."
Maki observes, "It's not just about being humbled. You seem to really look up to him now."
Yazu admits, "I do. Hiro might be over the top sometimes, but he's a great sorcerer. He's got skills, and he's not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. I respect that."
Maki smiles slightly, "Sounds like Hiro's antics have left quite the impression."
Yazu laughs, "You could say that. I've learned a lot from him, and not just about sorcery. He's taught me a bit about being true to myself too."
Maki gazes out the window, her eyes tracing the landscape as the train speeds by. The scenery is a patchwork of cities – some bustling with life, others hauntingly desolate, bearing the scars of recent events. Many areas lay abandoned, a silent testament to the chaos that has engulfed the nation. It's a stark reminder of the fine line between normalcy and devastation. The functioning train, a symbol of resilience amidst turmoil, represents the government's efforts to sustain basic services, a lifeline in these troubled times.
As they finally arrive in Kyoto, Maki and Yazu step off the train into a city that feels like a ghost of its former self. The streets are eerily quiet, devoid of people, curses, and sorcerers – a calm before an unknown storm. The silence is almost palpable, like walking through a dream where the only sound is the echo of their own footsteps.
Their journey takes them through the empty city, the stillness around them contrasting sharply with the turmoil they carry within. They walk side by side, each lost in their own thoughts, moving through a world that feels both familiar and alien. The absence of life around them is a haunting reminder of what's at stake.
Eventually, they reach the imposing Zenin Mansion. The grand gate stands tall before them, a silent guardian to the secrets and history it holds within. It's a gateway to answers, to weapons, to unresolved pasts. As they stand before it, the weight of their mission and the uncertainty of what lies ahead hangs heavy in the air. The mansion, with its foreboding presence, seems to whisper secrets of the past, challenging them to step forward and face whatever awaits them inside.
As Maki and Yazu stand at the threshold of the Zenin Mansion, a familiar figure approaches them. A girl with blonde hair tied in twin ponytails and striking blue eyes greets them cheerfully. It's Momo, a known face from their past encounters.
Maki, surprised to see her here, asks, "What are you doing here, Momo?"
Momo explains with a slightly nervous energy, "Mai came here to sort something out. She asked me to wait outside."
Maki nods, processing this information. "Then I might run into her inside. I need to handle some things too."
She then turns to Yazu, her tone firm yet considerate. "Yazu, wait here with Momo. I won't be long."
Yazu, hesitant to leave Maki's side but understanding the delicacy of the situation, reluctantly agrees. "Alright, I'll stay here. Be careful in there, Maki."
Maki, with a determined nod, heads into the mansion alone, leaving Yazu and Momo outside. The mansion looms behind her like a silent giant, its walls holding secrets and memories of the Zenin clan.
Momo and Yazu watch her enter, the gate closing behind her with a resounding thud that echoes the finality of Maki's decision to face whatever lies within alone. Outside, Yazu and Momo stand in an uneasy silence, the weight of the unspoken concerns and fears pressing down on them. The air is filled with a sense of anticipation, each of them lost in their thoughts about the events unfolding within the walls of the Zenin Mansion and the unseen challenges Maki is about to face.
As Yazu stands beside Momo, he can't help but steal glances at her. It's a little-known fact among his circle of friends, only known to Itadori, that Yazu has a soft spot for blondes. In this moment, he finds himself thinking that Momo is exceptionally pretty with her blonde ponytails swaying gently in the breeze.
Feeling a bit self-conscious, Yazu runs his hands through his hair, which falls to his chin. He ties it back, trying to appear more composed. He wonders to himself, 'What would Hiro senpai do in a situation like this?' The answer comes easily to him: Hiro would be direct and charming.
Emboldened by this thought, Yazu turns to Momo, trying to channel some of Hiro's confidence. "So, Momo, how have you been?" he asks, attempting to strike up a conversation with a hint of charm in his voice.
Momo, caught slightly off guard by the sudden attention, smiles. "I've been okay, just dealing with all the craziness going on. How about you?"
Yazu, feeling a surge of confidence, continues the conversation with Momo, his demeanor relaxed but tinged with a subtle eagerness. He leans against a nearby wall, trying to appear casual yet attentive. The sunlight casts a warm glow around them, lending a serene ambiance to their impromptu meeting.
"You know, once all this craziness settles down," Yazu starts, a hopeful note in his voice, "maybe we could go out for a drink or something. You know, just to unwind."
Momo looks at him, slightly surprised by the suggestion, but her expression softens into a thoughtful smile. "That sounds nice, actually. It would be good to have something normal to look forward to."
Encouraged by her positive response, Yazu's smile broadens. He finds himself increasingly drawn to her easy-going nature and the way her eyes light up when she talks. "Great! It's a date then. Well, not a date-date, unless you want it to be," he adds quickly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks.
Momo laughs lightly, the sound melodic and genuine. "Let's just see how it goes. But yeah, I'd like that."
As they continue chatting, the initial awkwardness dissipates, giving way to a comfortable rapport. Their conversation flows naturally, punctuated by shared laughter and occasional glances that speak of a budding connection. Yazu, inspired by Hiro's approach but driven by his own genuine interest, finds that reaching out to Momo was perhaps one of the best decisions he's made in a while.
As time passed, Yazu and Momo found themselves immersed in a surprisingly engaging conversation. They discovered shared interests, like a mutual fascination with the entertainment world, and their talk flowed effortlessly. Shared stories and laughter bridged the gap between them, creating a sense of camaraderie.
However, as more time elapsed, Yazu's ease began to give way to concern. There was still no sign of Mai or Maki. Frowning, Yazu glanced toward the imposing entrance of the Zenin Mansion.
"I think I should go in and check on them," Yazu said, his voice tinged with worry.
Momo, sensing his unease, quickly offered, "I'll come with you."
Yazu, however, shook his head firmly. "No, it could be dangerous. I can't let you take that risk."
Momo hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to help and understanding Yazu's concern. "But I can't just let you go alone," she protested.
Yazu offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I just want to make sure they're okay. You wait here; it's safer."
With a mixture of apprehension and determination, Yazu turned and headed towards the mansion, leaving Momo behind. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders as he crossed the threshold, stepping into the unknown. Behind him, Momo watched anxiously, hoping for the safe return of not just Mai and Maki, but also Yazu, with whom she had just begun to forge a promising new bond.
As Yazu ventured deeper into the Zenin Mansion's grounds, the silence around him grew more pronounced and unsettling. The autumn breeze played with his hair, adding a chilling touch to the already tense atmosphere. Every step he took was measured, his senses heightened to any sign of danger or disruption.
Walking through the tranquil garden, Yazu suddenly came face-to-face with Naoya. Naoya wore a smug smile, his demeanor oozing arrogance. "And who might you be?" he asked with a sneer.
Yazu, maintaining his composure, replied, "I'm a friend of Maki and Mai. I'm just here to look for them."
Naoya's response was laced with sarcasm. "Oh, they're a bit... preoccupied at the moment."
The air between them grew thick with tension, a silent battle of wills unfolding. Yazu's brow furrowed in suspicion; Naoya was clearly hiding something, and his casual dismissal did nothing to ease Yazu's concern. The way Naoya stood, the slight smirk on his face, and the evasive nature of his comments – all of it hinted at something amiss.
Yazu, aware that he needed to tread carefully yet determined to find Maki and Mai, stood his ground. The confrontation with Naoya, though subtle, was a clear indication that the situation inside the Zenin Mansion was far from straightforward. Yazu's resolve to uncover the truth and ensure the safety of his friends solidified. He knew he had to stay alert and be ready for whatever Naoya or the mansion itself might throw his way.
Naoya, still exuding an air of overconfidence, casually asks, "And what's your name?"
Yazu tenses up, sensing the potential for a confrontation. "I'm Yazu," he replies cautiously, his voice steady.
Naoya lets out a mocking laugh, seemingly amused by Yazu's show of bravery. "Got some courage, I see."
Yazu, undeterred, shoots back, "You're too arrogant. You must be Naoya. Hiro senpai told me about you."
Naoya's expression shifts to one of interest at the mention of Hiro. The name seems to resonate with him, sparking a memory of a past encounter. "Ah, that blonde idiot? Is he still as pathetic?"
Yazu, standing his ground, retorts confidently, "He could wipe the floor with you."
Naoya laughs mockingly. "Are you going to hide behind his skirt then?"
Yazu doesn't respond to the taunt. Instead, he braces himself for the inevitable confrontation. He knows Naoya is hiding something about the whereabouts of the Zenin sisters. The only way to find out and fulfill his promise to Hiro – to bring Maki back safe and sound – is to face Naoya head-on.
The air between them crackles with tension, each aware that a fight is imminent. Yazu readies himself, his resolve firm. He's not just fighting for information; he's fighting to protect his friends and uphold his commitments. As the standoff intensifies, the once-peaceful garden becomes a battleground, a test of wills and strength between two formidable sorcerers.
__________
In a room within the Kamo Mansion, Kenjaku is found humming a tune, seemingly lost in his thoughts. The room is steeped in history and tradition, with walls adorned by ancient scrolls and artifacts that speak of the Kamo clan's long and storied past. The space is dimly lit, with only a few rays of light piercing through the small, traditional windows, casting elongated shadows across the wooden floor.
Around Kenjaku, scrolls and old tomes are spread out in a seemingly haphazard manner, but each one is meticulously placed, holding significance in his grand scheme. The room exudes an air of both tranquility and foreboding, a reflection of the complex character of Kenjaku himself.
Uraume stands silently to one side, their gaze fixed on Kenjaku, observing each of his movements with a mix of curiosity and wariness. The atmosphere is thick with a sense of anticipation, as if the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for the next move in a high-stakes game.
At the center of this tableau is the lifeless body of Yamada, now lying on an ornate bed. The body appears more preserved than before, a stark contrast to the vibrant life it once held. The scene is a chilling reminder of the lengths to which Kenjaku will go to achieve his objectives. The room, with its blend of tradition and dark undertones, serves as a fitting backdrop for Kenjaku's enigmatic and often sinister plans.
Kenjaku, pausing in his work, begins to share a piece of history with Uraume. "During the Meiji era, when I inhabited the body of Noritoshi Kamo, I first encountered the harbinger of chaos, known in this era as the child of prophecy. That past life of Yamada was overwhelmingly powerful and, unlike him, was ruthless – chaos was his only concern. I managed to convince him to be revived in a future era, where he could confront Sukuna."
Uraume, intrigued and slightly puzzled, arches an eyebrow. "But Sukuna has not fully returned yet..."
Kenjaku interrupts, "I know. But Yamada's body will serve as the vessel for his own past life. He will possess his memories, experience his defeat against Hiro Takashi, and somehow, that will pique his interest, and he won't kill us."
Kenjaku's words reveal a complex plan, one that has been in the making for centuries. The room, already heavy with the weight of history and dark intent, seems to close in a bit more with each revelation. Uraume listens intently, their expression one of cautious understanding, recognizing the depth and danger of Kenjaku's machinations.
Kenjaku delves deeper into his tale, his voice steady and revealing no hint of remorse. "During the Heian era, before all of this, there was a powerful sorceress known as Angel. Like the harbinger of chaos, I promised her resurrection in this era. I turned her into a cursed object." He pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "Right now, she must be inhabiting the body of a girl in one of the colonies."
From within the folds of his monk-like kimono, Kenjaku retrieves a small, shriveled object. It's a desiccated head, its features twisted and contorted in a grotesque manner. The skin is leathery and tight against the skull, the eyes are closed, and the mouth is agape in what seems like an eternal scream of agony.
He holds it up for Uraume to see, a diabolical smile playing on his lips. "This is the head of the harbinger of chaos. Yamada will consume this head and become its new vessel. Unlike Sukuna and Angel, Yamada is dead, which means he will have absolute control."
The revelation sends a chill through the air, the implications of Kenjaku's plan becoming increasingly clear and disturbing. The room, already filled with the aura of dark intentions, seems to grow darker with the presence of the cursed object.
Uraume, observing the head, maintains their composure but can't hide a flicker of apprehension in their eyes.
Kenjaku, peering closely at Yamada's motionless form, confesses to Uraume with a hint of caution, "To be honest, this one is even more unpredictable than Sukuna." The room fills with a tense silence, the weight of his statement hanging in the air.
With a deliberate motion, Kenjaku opens Yamada's mouth and places the shriveled head inside. He assists in making Yamada swallow it, then steps back, joining Uraume in a vigil of anticipation. Both watch intently, waiting for any sign of life or reaction from Yamada's body.
Then, it happens. Yamada's eyes slowly flutter open, fixing upon Kenjaku's face looming over him. Kenjaku, a mix of satisfaction and intrigue in his eyes, greets him, "Welcome back, Yamada." After a brief pause, he corrects himself, "Oh, I should say, Yami."
Yami, initially uncomprehending, tries to piece together his identity using Yamada's memories. After a moment of silent contemplation, he recognizes Kenjaku and speaks in a voice that carries an air of imperial command, "Noritoshi Kamo? No... Kenjaku."
The voice of Yami echoes with authority and power, the kind that resonates with centuries of knowledge and experience. It's a voice that commands respect and attention, emanating from a being who has been reborn with a purpose and an undeniable presence.
Kenjaku studies Yami's face, a mix of satisfaction and curiosity in his gaze. He has successfully revived a powerful entity, but the true nature of Yami's intentions and capabilities remains a mystery.
Yamada, now embodying Yami, lay still on the bed, his eyes locking onto Kenjaku and Uraume from his reclined position. With an air of authority, he commanded, "Who gave you permission to look down upon me?"
Suddenly, both Kenjaku and Uraume felt an overwhelming force pressing down on them. It was as if gravity itself had intensified manifold, specifically targeting them. They could feel their bones creak and organs strain under the pressure, rendering them powerless. They could only watch in helpless astonishment as Yami effortlessly rose to his feet, towering over them with a mocking smile.
Yami's presence filled the room with an almost tangible sense of power. "Well, well, that's more like it," he spoke, his voice dripping with condescension. "Now, if you beg and say, 'Oh please, dear God, could you forgive us?' Maybe I'll consider sparing you."
The room, which had once felt heavy with Kenjaku's dark intentions, now seemed dominated by Yami's formidable aura. Kenjaku and Uraume, usually the ones in control, found themselves at the mercy of this newly resurrected being. The balance of power had shifted dramatically, and the uncertainty of Yami's intentions hung in the air like a dark cloud. The consequences of Kenjaku's actions were unfolding in a way he might not have anticipated, adding a new layer of complexity and danger to his grand plan.
_________
The tension between Naoya and Yazu escalated to an almost palpable intensity. The air around them felt charged, as if primed for an imminent explosion of violence. Suddenly, the haunting strains of classical music began to fill the air, weaving an eerie backdrop to the unfolding confrontation.
Yazu's demeanor shifted as the music enveloped him; his eyes closed for a moment, attuning himself to the rhythm and melody. The music was more than just a background score for him – it was the key to his cursed technique, allowing him to glimpse into the future.
As the first notes of a violin concerto filled the air, Yazu's eyes snapped open, now filled with a newfound clarity. Naoya lunged towards him, his movements swift and precise. But Yazu, guided by the music, anticipated each attack. He sidestepped a vicious strike aimed at his head, the movement synchronized perfectly with a crescendo in the music.
Naoya, surprised by Yazu's evasion, quickly adjusted his tactics and aimed a series of rapid jabs towards Yazu's midsection. Yazu, moving in harmony with the lilting melody, twisted and turned, his body swaying like a reed in the wind, each movement allowing him to narrowly escape Naoya's strikes.
The fight became a dance, with Yazu's movements guided by the ebb and flow of the music. He could see Naoya's attacks coming a split second before they happened, each note of the music offering him a glimpse into the immediate future. This advantage allowed Yazu to not only evade Naoya's attacks but also to counter with his own. He landed a solid punch that coincided with a dramatic pause in the music, catching Naoya off guard.
Naoya, frustrated and surprised by Yazu's uncanny ability to predict and counter his moves, became more aggressive. But Yazu remained calm, his actions almost serene amidst the chaos, as if the music had transported him to a state of heightened awareness and precision.
The classical music reached its climax, and with it, Yazu saw his opportunity. He executed a series of swift, graceful moves that left Naoya defenseless, ending the fight with a decisive strike just as the final notes of the concerto played.
As the music faded, the tension dissipated, leaving behind the echo of a battle that was as much a testament to Yazu's unique ability as it was a showcase of his growth as a sorcerer. Naoya lay defeated, and Yazu stood victorious, his breathing steady even in the aftermath of the intense fight. The classical music had been his ally, a tool that turned the tide in his favor and proved crucial in his triumph.
The tension between Yazu and Naoya remains thick in the air, each of them poised for the inevitable second round. Naoya, fuelled by his wounded pride and the burning desire to assert his superiority, stands up slowly, his eyes fixed on Yazu with a fierce determination.
"You think you've got the better of me? No chance. I am the Zenin clan's greatest prodigy," Naoya declares, his voice steady despite the defeat he's just suffered.
Yazu, taking a defensive stance, responds calmly yet firmly, "It's not about winning or losing, Naoya. I just need to know where Maki is."
Naoya, ignoring Yazu's words, is consumed by his desire to reclaim his pride. "Prepare yourself. I won't let you off easily this time."
The air crackles with tension as Naoya readies himself, his stance aggressive and determined. Yazu, maintaining his composure, prepares to counter. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation of the impending clash, a battle that will be as much about skill as it is about the clashing egos and ideals of these two powerful sorcerers.
Naoya lunges forward, initiating the second round, but Yazu, using his unique ability to anticipate movements, is ready. He moves with a fluid grace, each step calculated and precise, keeping him just out of Naoya's reach.
Yazu tries to reason with him between dodges. "This isn't necessary, Naoya. We don't have to do this."
But Naoya is relentless, driven by his need to prove himself. "I will show you the true power of the Zenin clan!"
Their dance of combat continues, a flurry of movement and tension. Naoya's attacks are fierce, but Yazu's foresight allows him to stay one step ahead, turning what could have been a brutal fight into a tactical game of evasion and patience.
As they circle each other, waiting for the other to make a decisive move, the second round of their confrontation hangs in the balance, a test of wills and skill that is yet to reach its climax.
In the tranquil setting of the Zenin Mansion's garden, Yazu faces off against Naoya, a member of the renowned Zenin clan known for his unique and formidable cursed technique. Classical music fills the air, providing Yazu with a rhythmic backdrop that aids his foresight, a key aspect of his own cursed technique.
Naoya's technique, 'Projection Sorcery', allows him to create multiple frames of himself in rapid succession. If his opponent fails to follow his pattern of movement correctly, Naoya can freeze the frame for a split second, giving him the opportunity to land a powerful strike.
As the fight ensues, Yazu tries to anticipate Naoya's movements, guided by the classical music. However, Naoya's technique proves to be extremely challenging. He moves with such speed that he creates multiple afterimages, and Yazu struggles to keep track of the real Naoya amidst these illusions.
Naoya darts around Yazu, his afterimages creating a confusing array of movements. Yazu, focusing on the music and trying to predict the pattern, narrowly dodges several attacks. However, he momentarily loses track of Naoya's sequence, and in that split second, the frame freezes. Naoya capitalizes on this, landing a solid punch that sends Yazu reeling.
Realizing the complexity of Naoya's technique, Yazu becomes more cautious. He knows he must perfectly predict the pattern to avoid being caught in the frame freeze again. The fight becomes a tense game of cat and mouse, with Yazu using the music to enhance his predictive abilities and Naoya using his speed and cunning to create unpredictable patterns.
Each movement, each feint from Naoya is a test of Yazu's ability to foresee and react. The classical music, a constant in this battle, heightens the drama of the confrontation, underscoring the clash of these two powerful cursed techniques. The outcome of this battle will be determined by who can outwit the other, in a struggle where speed, power, and strategic foresight are all crucial to victory.
__________
In a desolate street lined with abandoned cars, Hiro, Megumi, and Itadori stand before an old, somewhat dilapidated casino. The once-bustling place now looks like a relic of a forgotten time, its neon signs flickering weakly. They had come in search of Hakari, but the task at hand was far from straightforward. After his expulsion, Hakari had distanced himself from the jujutsu community, and the arrival of Hiro and the others was unlikely to be received warmly.
Hiro, sizing up the casino with a determined look, breaks the silence. "I say we just barge in and rough him up a bit if he doesn't want to help," he suggests, half-jokingly but with a hint of seriousness in his tone.
Megumi, ever the strategist, frowns at the suggestion. "We need Hakari on our side, Hiro Senpai. Alienating him further won't help."
Itadori, looking at the imposing structure of the casino, adds, "Yeah, maybe we should try talking to him first. He might listen."
Hiro chuckles, "Alright, we'll try it your way first. But if he doesn't budge, I'm going with Plan B."
The trio cautiously approaches the entrance of the casino. The doors, slightly ajar, creak as they push them open, stepping into the dimly lit interior. The casino, once a place of noise and excitement, now lies eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant hum of flickering lights and the echo of their footsteps.
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