Naoya's haori flared out behind him even when there was barely any wind: on a night like tonight he looked impossibly dramatic, Yuzu saw out of the corner of her eye as he ran beside her. And how could he run like that in those sandals?
Practice. Right. Behind his disaffected air Naoya was as curious as Atsuro: he wanted to learn everything, so no wonder he'd picked up so much stuff. "What are you so happy about?" she asked him, a little wary because she did know him, after all.
"He has an instinctive understanding of logic and he already studied computer science to design his program to be compatible with all cell phone operating systems, even personalized ones," Naoya grinned. "Atsuro thinks he's the closest thing we've encountered to an alien: I think he's the closest thing we've encountered to a human-system-born artificial intelligence. What's truly interesting is that he's definitely not descended from meme-viruses: change-over-time as we understand it, let alone evolution, simply isn't possible in a system like that. His opinion of humans became different from that of his brethren because of interaction with humans causing them to literally change his mind for him… Ah, yes."
She wasn't her husband, even if she knew more than most after so much time around him, Abel and Naoya himself. "Do you have any idea how much it would have speeded up the development process of creating my universal language-based summoning program if Aya knew the first thing about basic logic? Alcor has an instinctive understanding of the logical principles behind computer science. Which is one of many reasons his kind aren't capable of understanding humans. Imponderables: the word means things that cannot be thought about, but humans have to calculate dozens of them just to decide what to wear. Doctrine teaches that Grandfather is unknowable, and that is technically true, yet he came into existence by observing himself." The I Am.
"We've inherited that ability to understand things that cannot be understood. Imperfectly, of course, but enough to be able to work with them. Unfortunately, most humans use this ability to 'know' things without thinking about them first to avoid thinking altogether." So embarrassing. "But the human attempt to construct a system that actually works logically from first principles has given us a Rosetta stone, since unlike normal human thought patterns he's capable of understanding it even though he is, or he was a being of pure static data. Pure genius on his part, to learn it as a stepping stone to understanding humans and also to make use of it in his hope we could save ourselves, since he couldn't alter reality that way. And for an entity with such barriers to producing new ideas to think of this? I may actually have found someone who will remain worth working with for more than forty years." Damn senility, one more ill that never should have befallen the human race. As those around him gained enough knowledge to think meaningful thoughts, their ability to think began to decay.
And that, Yuzu thought as she rolled her eyes, was Naoya's idea of the simple version. She should warn Abel and Hiro that Naoya had found a shiny new toy. "And you're happy about that? I thought you were proud of being smarter than the rest of us."
"There are different types of intelligence," he reminded her. "My apprentice has genius-level inductive reasoning, but very little common sense. You, on the other hand, have genius-level common sense."
"Thanks?" She was pretty sure that wasn't a compliment.
"It's why you knew the best way for your friends to survive was to get out of there. Your willingness to ignore the larger implications and the consequences to other people when it comes to those you care for is why I selected you as one of my brother's friends." Yuzu had known that leaving would fuck the world, she wasn't a fool, but staying meant exposing Atsuro and especially Abel to an insane amount of danger. Fighting heaven? Conquering the world and therefore pissing the world off? Fighting Babel and whatever else the Shomonkai had to fling at them? Naoya knew his plan had been insane from the beginning: he'd counted on Yuzu to recognize this and make sure Abel was reminded of this instead of racing headlong into everything without taking proper precautions.
"Ah, so you were complimenting my ruthlessness." So it was an actual compliment, just not something she would have considered a compliment. Not until she became a mother, anyway.
"Of course." But, to return to the original subject, "Al Saiduq is intelligent in a useful way, but it's easy to prey upon his sympathies and manipulate him." Such a glaring weakness made him absolutely no threat to Naoya. "Rather like your husband, but even more so. If it weren't for the fact that Hiro already secured his undying loyalty, I would forge adoption papers first thing tomorrow morning." Hmm. "I may still do that, if no one has any better ideas for giving him a cover identity."
Yeeeah. "You know," she said, still not out of breath even though she'd been running all this time and they were almost there, "All my other friends ask me how I've managed to stay the same size I was in high school. There's nothing like a demonic invasion to teach you the importance of getting as much sleep as you need, small meals that don't weigh you down but don't leave you hungry either and plenty of cardio."
He laughed as he kicked off his sandals just before they stepped out onto the sands. "See? Common sense."
It didn't take long for him to make his diagnosis. "Keep an eye on her. Unless her condition changes, she won't lose any brain cells she was using."
Yuzu tried asking, "Don't you have any ancient remedies, or…"
"Nothing that isn't extinct, and forcing her to swallow isn't a good idea with the alcohol interfering with those reflexes to begin with." Damn goats, they'd root everything edible out until there was nothing to feed the soil and grassland became desert. Abel favored them: in hindsight, that probably was because they were ornery and determined to live no matter what, but Abel had the brains to move them around, make sure they didn't stay in any one area long enough to eat everything there that wasn't them. "She's already got the best remedy there is for this level. It's a good thing she passed out before she drank any more."
Naoya would have been a medicine man far more often if doing a decent job of it wouldn't have required growing his own herbs, those he knew worked, instead of relying on local remedies. He still knew the purposes of all the plants as well as the names of all the animals, as little good as the second did him when he couldn't speak to them the way his parents could.
"I have to agree," Dr. Otome admitted. "She'll have a hangover, but her breathing's fine, she hasn't attempted to throw up…"
"And she'll know better next time," Mari agreed, calm distraction hiding the ruthless practicality of someone who dealt with high schoolers (these days) and their stupid, stupid experimenting for a living. Having a hangover on her wedding day was so much better than dying. All that struggle to stay alive, the miracle this woman was given that so many others wouldn't receive, and she'd nearly lost it through carelessness. Mari didn't have any more sympathy for this woman than she was going to have for Kaido tomorrow. Not when the application of plenty of light and noise would keep her husband alive longer than cooing over him.
Naoya gave her a slightly surprised look, then laughed, sounding slightly honestly delighted. "Abel makes the most interesting friends." He should know Mari better than this by now, when she'd let a demon possess her so she could kill her soon-to-be-fiancé's murderer with her own bare hands.
"And I have a daughter to think about," Dr. Otome said. Showing was so much better than telling, after all.
"Alright, but you're responsible for her," Yuzu told Naoya.
"Or I'll have to walk down the aisle in her place? Agreed," Naoya said with a perfectly straight face.
"Like the Best Man?" Fumi asked, interested.
Yuzu might have said, 'You're pretty confident,' if this wasn't Naoya. "Or I'll hand you over to Midori for photo shoots."
Naoya could have responded to that with 'you and what army?' but not only was that cliché, "If I was wrong about so common a diagnosis, I'd deserve it."
"Right you are." Yuzu glanced around. "Alright, show's over."
"I'm up for dancing again," Hinako suggested.
Airi wasn't the only one that cheered.
"The traditional fan dance," Naoya said quietly as Dr. Otome passed him a sake cup. "The base of the fan symbolizes birth, and the ribs symbolize the many paths that person's life can follow, depending on what choices they make. Surprisingly appropriate. She isn't another miko, is she?" he asked Airi, who seemed to know her.
"No, she just wants to dance."
"Hmm," he said thoughtfully (and menacingly, for those who knew him or were starting to know him) as he handed his cup towards the blonde woman for her to refill it. He'd barely drunk anything at all in order to keep his mind sharp for such an interesting interroga-discussion with Alcor, but he was fond of alcohol, at least decent alcohol. There were more than enough times in his lives when he'd been glad of a little brain damage.
"She used mostly physical techniques, didn't she?" he mused.
"Yes," Otome said, wondering how he had guessed.
"They would have come easily to her, with trained strength and coordination." Of course. "Hmm." Well, she had assisted one of his little brothers, he supposed. He could show her how it was done. And the Japanese government would just have to put up with it. "You." Glasses-girl. "Let me see your fans."
Midori perked up at that. Naoya did have a flair for costuming. The green on his black kimono was made up of raining ones and zeroes: life called forth from the machine? Green, plant life when he was cursed with a black thumb? Not to mention the wooden sandals. In hindsight, he might as well have been giving Heaven the finger. He made such a good villain, too.
After Hinako's final bow was met with thunderous applause, Naoya stepped forward. "Summoning rituals consist of precise angles, circles and ratios which can be rapidly constructed by computer. The skill crack system is also ritual-based, this time on the ritual sacrifice of demons," and humans, "to obtain a portion of their power. Similarly, setting those stored demonic power summoning constructs to specific individuals causes the application to constantly generate a ritual that would allow for instant summoning of that spell by that individual at the desired target whenever it is activated.
"Before computers, the invention of paper allowed the creation of seals that would activate a preset spell when applied to the target, but once one ran out of seals, one was out of spells, and they could only safely contain so much power" and paper was bloody expensive, the things took forever to draw and once his eyes decayed to the point he would have needed reading glasses if they were available it wasn't safe to make them anymore, since one screw-up meant painful death.
"That left three types of reliable war magic: blessings to increase speed, strength and durability which could be cast ahead of time, curses to weaken one's enemies which could also be cast ahead of time, and spells with a dramatic enough effect that it was worth covering the sorcerer while they completed the ritual, which had to be done with speed, precision and a minimum of materials," which would have to be carried onto the battlefield and protected. "Absolute concentration was key, always hard when people are trying to kill you, and perfect execution of the ritual. Therefore, combat sorcerers had to practice those rituals until they could be done automatically while in a trance-like state of utmost concentration." Since 'body memory' was really just training the brain, which controlled those movements, he didn't have to learn them all over again every life, thank goodness. "Those spells took two main forms: chants, often using premade talismans as foci, and dance." The first two fans he'd borrowed snapped open on the final word. "The ritual dance you just saw Miss Hinako perform was originally designed as a blessing meant to ensure health, happiness and welfare. The five spells I am about to perform are earlier versions of those some of you," Yuzu, Midori, Hiro's friends, "have seen or even used before, cast by computer. First, the Fire Dance."
Was he seriously going to violate the terms of his parole not only in front of her, but whoever was watching this from the vessels guarding the island? This was Naoya, so Izuna knew that yes, he was. He'd been on good behavior for so long because it wasn't worth the bother not to be, but now there was more proof that the world needed his family and the rules about demon summoning were ultimately the ones they made and enforced. She lifted up her radio and brought it to her mouth. "Heads up, fireworks on the beach. Do not respond, I repeat, do not respond."
"Yes, ma'am," the watch officer agreed.
She was sure that the instant she turned it off he'd let the other bored sailors, as well as the soldiers who were supposed to learn about spellcasting and what Naoya (and others) might be capable of, know to watch the show.
It took a surprisingly long time for the magic to happen, for someone used to the summoning program. Not that she didn't prefer Naoya when he wasn't talking, and he was almost as agile as he'd been back when he was twenty-four, even though now he must be a little past forty. Well, he would know what would happen to his body if he didn't exercise, now wouldn't he? When she'd met him, he had an ancient's mind in a twenty-five-year-old's body: for once, youth wasn't being wasted on the young.
When he'd finally drawn enough patterns in the air to write out the spell, or however this worked, she was right: it was fireworks first, blasted up into the air instead of at his audience. First the red-orange they'd seen before, then as the tempo increased the color shaded towards the yellow of the sun, on to a flaring blue-white.
Higher frequencies, hotter flames.
Izuna felt like the only one here that realized he wasn't just showing off his ability to do showy stuff but his power, at least until her eyes met Yuzu's. The girl (woman, now) might be Naoya's friend (even if she might not exactly say so), but her ability to tolerate him was based off of her understanding of what she could expect from him. A lot of stuff she put up with because it was Naoya being Naoya, and if she was going to be bothered by it then she shouldn't have hung out with him in the first place.
Midori was just clapping excitedly, and who knew what Nurse Mari the yakuza wife thought.
Suddenly he snapped those fans shut, tucked them back into the belt Midori had found for him to tie under his kimono so it could flow around him, and drew out the next two, these patterned with Seiryu instead of Suzaku.
Yes, it took variety to make a successful business out of cosplay performances, custom production and even costuming for theatre troupes and sentai shows, but how much stuff had Midori brought with her?
She'd guessed it: ice was next. At least this one would be harder to see from the ships, so he had a smaller audience to show off to. First snowflakes, then actual ice, forming around him as he circled. Good way to put up a defensive wall: then the enemy wouldn't be able to see what he was casting or snipe him so easily-why was she evaluating the tactics of this? He'd just use a comp now, cast these spells with the press of a button or a couple of words.
Then he jumped up onto the wall and started circling around it: she was almost surprised he wasn't skating along, but all it would take to lose control then was one bump. When this one ended he stood on the top of a crystal tower.
Lightning next, multicolored flashes in the cloudless sky above. Explosions of power and sound.
Wind he aimed out at the ocean, so the tornado could suck up the water and be seen more easily. Correction: tornadoes. None of them headed out far enough to threaten the ships, but she wasn't going to count on that. He was keeping them close enough to hit his own side in a battle, especially since it made sense to keep the sorcerers to the rear. These were anti-personnel weapons, or artillery.
Last, she knew, was his ironic favorite (and probably his favorite for just that reason): Holy Dance. She remembered trying to chase the teleporting bastard around while he threw haywire comps like confetti and started attacking them before they were close enough to hit back. She'd been tempted to pull out her gun and start shooting at him, even though the comp-generated field that meant humans could survive having demon claws rip at their stomachs would have made the ordinary bullets just bounce off. What was left of the JPs ammo stockpile had been issued to the guards at the facility the Diet had retreated to while Tokyo was in Lockdown.
Bastard had just been playing with them, the way he was playing around now. The only one he'd had a real bone to pick with was Amane, Remiel's host: the demons were just to keep the rest of them busy and his spells, especially those launched at Abel and his two friends, were just intended to make them get out of his way, waste time healing up. Was he doing this to upstage the Hinako girl? Just because he could show her that she would never live long enough to be able to do what he did? No, Izuna was pretty sure casual cruelty wasn't quite his style: he wouldn't go out of his way to hurt someone who hadn't angered him somehow, and Hinako was one of the people who'd helped his little brother.
Hinako also had her jaw dropped, the glitter of the ice reflected in her eyes, or was that the glitter of avarice?
Still, Izuna knew, he wouldn't go out of his way just to inspire someone either, not unless he got something out of it. What was his game?
Looking around again she saw Yuzu had her arms folded: ah good, at least someone seemed to know. The way she was smiling meant she had a plan to counter his, too.
…Cherry blossoms?
They were a symbol of death, the short and glorious life of a warrior, but still. Why cherry blossoms? As they fell she could detect the scent of green spring, the familiar tingle of dia spells in the air. The clarity of a winter morning, the shocking refreshment of a glass of ice water, the excitement of battle surged through her until she felt so alive it almost hurt…
The tower of ice fell, or rather Naoya did, the tower beneath him vanishing into thick steam that melted away into thin air, into nothing as he earthed the power he'd called into it.
So that was why it was called holy magic, she realized. Healing was returning things to their ideal state, and if both humans and demons were intrinsically flawed beings? They could be purified into nonexistence.
When the air cleared, Naoya stood on the sand, fans extended the way Hinako's were when she began her dance. And if Izuna noticed that the sand under him was disturbed the way it might have been if Naoya hit the ground rolling, if sharp eyes noticed a bit of sand in his hair… Well, that was half of a successful performance, wasn't it? If you slipped up, either gloss it over or make them think you'd meant to do that. Maybe it wasn't even a mistake: Naoya had been a ways up there, and better to take a tumble backstage than try to make an impressive landing and then break his ankle in front of an audience.
He held that pose for an instant more and then shut the last pair of fans, these marked with a golden dragon.
After the clapping, cheers and Midori's squeals of delight and demands he do a concept shoot for her died away, he went to sit back down next to Yuzu, who handed him a cup of sake.
"Thank you," he said, accepting it as his due and drinking it thirstily while he looked around for something.
"Amane went to bed hours ago," Izuna heard Yuzu say.
Damn.
"But I'm sure she'll hear all about this tomorrow and try to upstage you then," Yuzu reassured him as she poured him a refill.
"What do I always tell you?" Gin asked Kaido as he mixed up two hangover cures, one with each hand. "Mind taking this one up to Keita?"
"Sure," was Kaido's monosyllabic reply, and even that made him wince. After Gin's concoction went down the hatch, he admitted that it was, "My fault for letting him try to keep up with me."
Between the bartender and the future professional chef, the kitchen area had become the male domain once the women went to go help the bride and all the extra ones were drafted by Amane and Izuna to help gather flowers and see what could be done about the courtyard where they were holding the ceremony after their early breakfast. The priestess already helped Joe and his fiancé write their vows the previous afternoon, while Haru was busy rehearsing.
No fool, Yamato made himself scarce once the conscription started and only come back downstairs after he'd seen most of the women, all of the young children and anyone else who was awake and didn't have anything better to do head into that godforsaken jungle.
It appeared the others who hadn't appeared at breakfast also had the same idea or very good timing, unless they'd been woken up by all the hubbub. Ronaldo, who had also helped cook breakfast, was putting dishes away alongside Hiro. Yamato assumed it wasn't normally this complicated a process, but they had to find where they all went. Still, he was pleased to see that Hiro had escaped conscription, or rather made the intelligent decision to assign himself to a less unpleasant chore.
"How's your head?" Hiro asked him when he saw Yamato.
"It's not that," of course not. "I felt unusually tired. I hope I'm not coming down with something." After that day in the cold and rain that was entirely Saiduq's fault. "That would be inconvenient. I can't expect Izuna and Atsuro to hold them off forever: I'll need to report as soon as possible." Delay would be seen as evidence of guilt: Politicians made others wait, they didn't like to be kept waiting.
Yamato glanced at Naoya to see what he thought about Yamato's use of his suggestion, but Naoya didn't move from where he sat on a stool, leaning forward and resting his forehead and upper body on the countertop.
"Never fails," Gin told him, noticing who he was looking at. "Once he has a few drinks, he forgets that modern drinks contain a lot more alcohol than what people drank for most of the time he's been around. Even though he knows more about distilling and how to actually make it than I do." Nothing would replace Aya, but Abel had encouraged him to play that card if he ever wanted something from Naoya: Cain paid his debts, and he had helped the Shomonkai. Learning how to make the best of the beverages the rest of the world had forgotten how to make put Gin's place on the map. The dark-haired bartender didn't consider the money all that important, but it was a great opportunity for all the independent artists he knew thanks to Aya. It didn't hurt that he could pay them a few times their standard gig price. He'd already given Hinako an invitation to come by sometime.
"The bride's the worst off, though." Poor girl. "She couldn't have alcohol before because of her medications, and everyone assumed she knew her own limit and would be careful on the night before her wedding," Gin said, rolling up his suit sleeves again to wash Kaido's glass and the bowls and whisk he'd used to make the hangover remedy. He'd ended up giving Joe one of his spare suits as his wedding present. "That's why Yuzu came by last night and dragged off Naoya in case he knew anything Dr. Otome didn't." Even though the two beaches the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties were on were off-limits to little kids and the opposite sex for the duration, once someone passed out they might be looking at the kind of damage Gin wouldn't stand for on his watch. "You kids were asleep by then." The combination of alcohol and stuffing themselves full of good old-fashioned beach bonfire food had knocked them all out.
Yamato grimaced at that reminder of his own weakness. He still had sand in his hair. "By the way, where is Alcor?" Now that everyone here was in the know, everyone called Hiro's brother Abel (although they'd called him that to begin with: it had apparently been his nickname since long before the Lockdown) and no one who knew him seemed bothered by the idea of calling Naoya by the name of Cain. So, if true names were acceptable, Hiro surely wouldn't mind Yamato calling Al Saiduq what he was. Although Yamato was glad he had monitored his condition well enough to retain his memory of last night.
He would have to learn more about these Pokemon. Everyone's reaction when Atsuro called Saiduq 'Psyduck' was very promising.
Naoya raised a hand to point upwards. "Still on the roof."
"The roof?" Yamato asked, although he wasn't that surprised once he thought about it. Alcor was used to looking down on them from above.
Naoya rolled his eyes even though no one could see him do so. "If he knew that being limited to human perceptions would drive him insane, then he shouldn't have hooked himself up to human sensory data and then scrambled the brain that was making some sense out of all of it. He looks like one of those things on Christmas trees right now. Wrapped in tinsel," to top it all off. "He's lucky I was with Izuna and Izuna had her radio with her last night, or he would have gotten hit by a cruise missile while he was up there playing UFO." Ah, Atsuro. Naoya should have known better than to leave his apprentice alone with a gullible, anxious-to-please real live alien. Or the closest thing to one he'd found so far. In hindsight, Naoya would have been disappointed in Atsuro if he hadn't taken advantage of the opportunity.
"That wouldn't have worked," sadly, Yamato said as he leaned against the white-tiled wall. "Septentriones are immune to conventional weapons."
Naoya snorted, then regretted it. "Who said anything about conventional weapons?" Just because he'd been the head of one country's secret project, the boy thought he knew everything? When he was even younger than Hiro? "A missile explosion over our heads would still have been inconvenient. For us." That was the important part.
Hiro gave him a look somewhere between annoyed and resigned that Naoya didn't see, forehead still pressed against the cool white tile. "He's worried that if he changes back, he'll change back into the way he was last night." His human body buzzed and his actual mind the septentrione, or now demon equivalent of high as a kite. "He wants to stay with his friends, but he's afraid of losing his mind."
"If that happens, he'd be a danger to the entire world." Just like the others. Yamato could use this.
Naoya snorted. "If anyone else had lasted long enough to figure out how to contact you, then the septentriones would have seen why Seth's descendants are still in control of this realm and Abel took over theirs." Hiro looked a little odd at that: Naoya hadn't called him by that name so casually before. "He's just an ordinary demon now. Powerful, but I can call on a half-dozen just like him without calling in favors." Loki, Lilith, Gabriel & the other archangels, just off the top of his head. The real threat in demon summoning spreading outside of the lockdown hadn't been loose demons, but humans using their newfound power to do as they pleased without fear of reprisal, then their victims taking revenge until whatever governments rose from the ashes reminded all their citizens that what they really had to fear was angering other humans, no matter what power they controlled. "What Seth should worry about is the nature of timelessness."
"Oh?" Yamato asked his friend, who frowned a little.
"I'd already guessed some of this, but Naoya and Fumi agreed this morning that since the Akashic Records were an eternal now, change wasn't possible."
"Of course," Yamato quickly realized. "If the Akashic Records contained all information? One can either know the location of a particle or its velocity."
That sounded about right, so Hiro nodded. "That's why he couldn't overthrow Polaris himself or change things for us, just give us what we needed to try to save ourselves and hope we could change the reality that said we couldn't win and he couldn't do anything to save us. Since that wasn't something that was possible within the… rules about how things worked that he lived in."
"Remind me to make you read Flatland," Naoya told him. "It's difficult for a two-dimensional being to understand the third dimension, and we, unlike him, existed in a truly four-dimensional universe."
Hiro added that. "He couldn't change before, but he wanted to: he could because he interacted with people, and those bonds let him change. Now all that effort he put into changing things, including himself, is actually having an effect." The particle could begin its journey, propelled by all the wound-up force that had moved Al Saiduq to do whatever he could to give others the chance to change, to possess freedom. "And he doesn't have any idea how to deal with that." He'd be even more worried once he realized that just staying in demon form wouldn't stop all these changes from happening to him.
Naoya agreed that, "Instead of another ancient, we have a powerful demon who was born the day before yesterday." For all practical purposes. Normally, it took time for demons to become that strong, and the ones without intelligence as well would be outwitted and mobbed by their weaker kin. "And is used to letting others decide what he thinks." Either Polaris or humanity. He did have an opinion of his own, and preferred humanity. The summoning app proved he was capable of creativity and original thought. His separation from Polaris proved he could stand against peer pressure, and yet.
Naoya found himself reminded of how he'd motivated Seth to deal with bullies (no version of Abel had ever needed the push), only this situation was the inverse of that. Yamato wasn't going to kill himself when that meant he would miss the suffering of his enemy, and he certainly wasn't going to help his enemy by ending any torment. If Alcor was willing to die instead of go insane and becoming a burden on others, if becoming more human and risking that could terrify him than Yamato, world expert on the Septentriones would be more than happy to help him adjust.
It was Seth's own fault for forgetting that he didn't have to take these burdens on alone. Yes, he'd been born originally after the two of were gone, Abel dead and Naoya too ashamed to face his parents. Then, when the first real emergency came in this life, the two of them had been in different dimensions and Seth's hell week had happened in a single instant from their perspective, so even if they'd known what was happening they wouldn't have been able to react until it was over.
Trying to keep together a group of people so different that they should have gotten along like nitro and glycerin would have dragged up the echoes of unpleasant memories from the depths of his mind, even though Seth, unlike Abel, didn't remember. When someone who had experienced so many incarnations didn't remember, Naoya knew now, it meant they didn't want to.
"At least I'm we're not going to have to repopulate the planet," Hiro told Naoya, in the way people might say 'at least it's not raining,' or 'at least the torturers will let us die eventually.'
At Gin's startled laugh, Hiro gave him a stern look. "I may not remember the way they do, but I know one thing for sure: it's not as fun as it sounds." All of his friends seemed to know now what they wanted to do with their lives, or at least where to go next, except Saiduq and Yamato. He didn't like to think about what he might have gone through to get so good, but the fact remained that he'd straightened all the others out in a week, while the world was ending.
Helping only two friends, one who hadn't had a chance to grow, let alone grow up before and one who had been forced to grow into the spot he was born for so fast he didn't know anything else couldn't be that hard. Not when they were both willing to listen to him.
Honestly, Naoya might be sick of dealing with most people, but these were Hiro's friends, and this was something he wanted to do.
After everything that had happened between now and then, Yamato's reaction to takoyaki was still the funniest thing he'd ever seen.