The three of them arrived at the arcade, panting slightly from their run. The white haired boy looked around, taking in the flashing lights and noisy sounds. It was a sensory overload, rather overwhelming even for someone like him. But he didn't mind, not one bit. He was here with them now.
"This place is... interesting," he admitted, looking around.
"Told you you'd fit right in!" Touma exclaimed, slapping him on the back playfully.
Misaki rolled her eyes at Touma's antics before turning her attention back to Hirano. "So, what do you want to play first?" She asked. "You're paying, so it's only fair that you get to choose first."
Hirano shrugged. "I don't mind. Anything's fine."
They looked at him for a second, waiting for him to speak up. But instead of choosing a game, he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've never really played these sorts of games before."
Touma and Misaki exchanged glances once again, surprise written all over their faces. "Really?" They asked in unison.
He didn't answer, merely shrugging. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do next. "I never really played any games, until this guy showed me. About a week ago, I think." Misaki states, gesturing towards Touma.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to show you how it's done, then!" Touma exclaimed, grabbing Hirano's hand and dragging him deeper inside the place, all the way towards a table of some sort. "Nothing ever goes wrong with good ol' air hockey!"
As they approached the table, Hirano eyed the game cautiously. He had seen people playing it before, but he had never actually played himself. Touma and Misaki watched him carefully, eager to see how he would do.
"Alright," Touma said, clapping his hands together. "Here's how it works."
Hirano listened intently as Touma explained the rules of the game. It sounded simple enough, just like any other sport really - use your mallet to hit a small puck across the table and into your opponent's goal.
Only thing is, where's the puck? He felt a tap at the back of his shoulder and was met with an open palm to the face. Not literally, but figuratively. Misaki smiled innocently, hand spread. He felt his eyes twitch. He could recall a certain blond doing this to him back then. Why is it always the blond girls that are the greedy type?
Not her fault. He volunteered to pay. He might as well...
Pulling out his wallet, he handed her a bill. "Thank you!" Misaki exclaimed, grabbing it eagerly before rushing towards the counter before coming back with a bag full of arcade coins.
He can't believe he'd just spent ¥10.000. To play a game nonetheless. What would Aiho and Kikyou think of him now? Hirano sighed, standing next to the table, watching as Touma and Misaki set up the game. They each took turns practising their shots, laughing and joking around as they did so. The virtual puck zipped back and forth across the table, leaving a trail of digital sparks in its wake.
It looks fun. Hirano finally mustered up the courage to step up to the table and take his turn. He gripped the mallet tightly, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He watched the virtual puck dart around, waiting for his opportunity to strike.
He was a master of vectors, whose brain is renowned for its ungodly speed. Predicting the movements of a puck is easy enough. Anticipating its next movement is even easier. It was all just a matter of time and patience. Calculations and mental gymnastics be damned, he could do all of this subconsciously, without having to think too hard.
So how in the fucking world did he manage to screw up so badly? The virtual puck zoomed past him, careening off the edge of the table and disappearing into the ether. He groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Frickin' hell," he muttered under his breath. 'This is impossible. This is fucking stupid. Just hit the stupid, fucking thing!'
Once more, Hirano gripped the mallet tightly, watching as the virtual puck zipped around the table. He took a deep breath, focusing all of his energy on the small, glowing orb. With a sudden burst of speed, he swung the mallet, connecting with the puck and sending it flying towards the goal. And in that same action, the consequence was much more severe than expected.
The force of the hit sent an electrifying feel across his wrist and forearm, causing him to yelp in surprise. He stumbled back, clutching his arm where the sensation was the strongest. He'd never felt anything like it before. It was like a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins.
Touma and Misaki turned to look at him, concern written all over their faces. "Are you okay?" Touma asked, rushing over to his side. "Did you dislocate your hand?" Hirano shook his head, still in shock from the sudden jolt.
"I... I don't know," he muttered, trying to shake off the feeling. "It just... surprised me, that's all." He took a deep breath, willing the numbness in his arm to fade away.
"How in the world did you hurt yourself from swinging too hard?" Misaki chuckled softly, clearly not taking the situation too seriously. "You should see your face," she added, smirking playfully.
Touma and Misaki's laughter only served to make Hirano more self-conscious about the situation. He couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. "It's not funny," he grumbled, rubbing his arm again. "This shit hurts you know." Despite his protests, they continued to laugh, their infectious energy lightening the mood. Hirano couldn't help but crack a small smile himself, despite the discomfort in his arm.
"You'll be fine." Touma assured him with a pat on the back. "Come on, let's play another game or two. Maybe you'll get the hang of it!"
The white haired boy nodded, testing his hand and wrist cautiously. It still felt a bit numb, but he supposed it was better than the pain he felt earlier. He took a deep breath and stepped up to the table again, determined to prove to them that he could play the game well.
"Don't you ever take that thing off?" Misaki gestures towards the scarf draped around his neck. "Wouldn't it be easier to play without it?" Misaki adds, eyeing the scarf curiously.
He hummed, fondly running his fingers through the soft material of his scarf. "It's just a habit," he shrugged, not wanting to make too much of a big deal out of it."Besides, I can't lose it if I don't take it off."
Misaki snorted in amusement, shaking her head. "That's one way of looking at it, I suppose."
As they continued to play, Hirano slowly began to get the hang of the game. His shots became more accurate, and he even managed to score a few goals himself. He was correct about his assumptions on vectors, allowing him to predict the movements of the puck with uncanny accuracy.
The only problem he has was his lack of reflexes. His body simply wasn't used to the quick movements required to play the game properly. But he made it up with his mathematical and logical prowess. Touma and Misaki watched in awe as he effortlessly controlled the mallet, sending the puck flying across the table with pinpoint accuracy.
He and Misaki have the same weakness and strength. They both took advantage of their unique abilities to gain an edge in the game. Touma, on the other hand, was a natural-born athlete, able to react quickly and precisely to the movements of the puck. His skill was more physical than mental, relying on his natural reflexes and hand-eye coordination.
As the game progressed, Hirano found himself getting more and more into it. The competitive spirit within him was ignited, and he was determined to beat both Touma and Misaki at their own game. They, in turn, were having a blast watching him play with such intensity. The arcade was filled with the sounds of laughter, cheers, and the constant clanging of the mallet against the puck.
Their game lasted for over an hour, with Hirano, Touma, and Misaki taking turns trying to outdo each other.
Finally, exhausted but satisfied, they decided to move onto other games. As they walked around the arcade, looking for something new to try, Hirano couldn't help but wonder what Aiho and Kikyou would think of all this. They were probably shaking their heads in disbelief right now, he chuckled to himself.
But in all honesty, it was a lot of fun.
He made sure to close the door with as little noise as possible. As he tiptoed through the hallway. Gentle hum of the refrigerator and soft glow of the nightlight were the only sounds that filled the silence. Hirano reached his room, carefully opening the door and slipping inside. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar trinkets and knick knacks that adorned his desk and shelves. It was a small room, but it was cosy and comfortable - the perfect sanctuary for someone like him.
He sat down on his bed, untangling his scarf from around his neck. The fabric was soft and warm from being wrapped around him for so long. Hirano sighed contentedly, running his fingers through the material once more before setting it aside.
His neck felt a bit stiff from wearing the scarf all day, but he didn't mind. It was worth it for the comfort it provided. As he lay down on his bed, his eyes drifted shut, and he allowed himself to relax. The memories of the day at the arcade flooded his mind. He could still hear the sounds of laughter and the clanging of the mallet against the puck. Hirano smiled to himself, content with the day he had spent with those two.
Then his eyes opened abruptly, remembering something he had forgotten about. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. He'd completely forgotten about the others. The judgement office he was supposed to visit. He sighed. The first thing he'll do tomorrow morning is go the- wait a minute. 'Tomorrow's Monday'.
He'll have to wait until Friday or even Saturday. Damn. Hirano groaned, rolling onto his side. He knew he should be more responsible, but sometimes procrastination just felt too damn good.
This is what happens when someone is too caught up in their own thoughts and feelings. He didn't even consider the consequences of his actions, which was quite irresponsible of him. But then again, we all make mistakes sometimes. And sometimes, those mistakes can be quite entertaining.
He huffed. What kind of school opens in the midst of summer vacation? He thought to himself, trying to find the humour in the situation. Nagatenjouki is supposed to be the most prestigious school in the entirety of Academy City. You're telling me that a school that prides itself on its academic excellence would open its doors during the hottest time of the year? What bullshit.
Suddenly, the door to his room opens. His body stiffened as he did his best to act like he was sleeping. He could hear a sigh. A shift and a creak on his bed. "You know, I keep telling myself that you're just a kid," He could hear Aiho's voice. It sounded gentle, soothing. "But sometimes, you really do surprise me." She reached out, gently ruffling his hair as if he were a small child.
Hirano hummed, pretending to be asleep. He could feel her presence beside him, warm and comforting. She always had this way of making him feel safe and secure, even when he was at his most vulnerable. Aiho let out a soft chuckle. "You know, I can tell when you're awake. There's no point in pretending." She gently nudged him, causing him to roll over onto his back. "So, where were you?"
Hirano sighed, deciding it was best to come clean. "Meeting people."
Aiho raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "People? You mean like friends?" She asked cautiously. It was clear she was trying to hide her curiosity, but Hirano could see right through it. She was always the curious one.
"Hn. You could say that."
Aiho nodded, seeming to accept his vague answer. "Was it Kuroko-chan again?"
He hummed. "No. I... haven't seen her in nearly a year now."
Aiho's eyebrow shot up in surprise. "A year? Really? You never told me that." She paused, thinking back to their last conversation about Kuroko. "What happened? Did you guys had a falling out?"
Hirano chuckled softly. "No, nothing like that. We just... drifted apart, I guess? We're not in the same place anymore."
Aiho nodded, understanding. "I see. Well, it's good to know you have other friends to hang out with." She said, a small smile forming on her lips. "But you should still keep in touch with Kuroko-chan. You never know when things might change."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's complicated."
Aiho's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. "Is it because of your past?" She asked softly. He stiffened, surprised by her directness. Aiho was never one to mince words, but her bluntness could sometimes catch him off guard. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," she quickly added, sensing his discomfort. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."
He looked away at that, feeling a mix of emotions. "Sorry."
She giggled softly. "Don't be, silly." She said, reaching over to ruffle his hair again. "You know you can always talk to me about anything, right? I may not always understand, but I'll listen."
Hirano smiled faintly, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. Aiho really was one of the few people he could open up to without hesitation. "Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I appreciate that."
They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Hirano felt a sense of relief wash over him as he began to drift off to sleep again, Aiho's gentle presence a comforting lullaby.
"Hey ya!" A certain blond haired girl greets, plopping herself down next to a certain short girl. The short girl looked up at her with a tired but content smile. "Did you have a good day at work?" She added, chirpy in her tone.
The short girl sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah... it was alright. I guess. First day at work wasn't exactly what I expected." She chuckled softly, stretching her arms above her head. "How about you?"
The blond haired girl shrugged, resting her chin on her palm. "Eh, same old, same old. Went for a walk... saw some things. You know how it goes." She grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
The short girl giggled. "It sounds like you're describing a day off or something... Didn't you say that you had a job interview today?" She teased, poking at her friend's side.
The blond haired girl rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "Oh come on, you know me. I just like to mess with people sometimes." She grinned, leaning back on the couch. "But yeah, I did have an interview. It went alright, I guess. Nothing too exciting."
The short girl hummed in understanding, leaning back against the bench. The two watched as the sky transitioned from day to night, the stars slowly beginning to appear. Summer breeze flowing in through the open window, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, the short girl asked once more. "So what's your work about?" The blond haired girl shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the night sky.
"Oh, you know... just the usual. Trying to make a difference in the world, one step at a time." She chuckled, her tone lighthearted.
The short girl smiled, resting her head on the back of the back of the bench. "Well, I'm sure you'll do great. You're always so enthusiastic about everything."
The blond haired girl grinned, nudging her friend's shoulder. "Thanks. I appreciate that."
They were quiet after that. Just enjoying the moment, watching the stars come out and listening to the sounds of the city around them. It was a peaceful scene, one that felt both familiar and comforting.
"By the way," The blond turned towards her friend. "I met someone interesting today." She perked up at the mention of that.
"Oh really? Who is it?" She asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Well, I didn't get his name or anything," The short girl said, scrunching her nose in thought. "But I'm pretty sure he went to the same primary school as us from back then. Do you still remember everyone's name from class, Frenda?"
Frenda chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "Of course! I even remember everyone's faces!" As Frenda spoke, she couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. She remembered those days all too well. The laughter, the friendship, the endless possibilities that lay before them. They were kids back then, she was too, at least.
"Basically, he has this white hair," At that, Frenda's eyes widened. She doesn't need to hear anymore, she knows who it is. The rest of her friend's words were tuned out, replaced by the memories that flooded her mind.
It had only been a year since she'd last seen him. But it felt like a lifetime ago. It was abrupt, sudden, and cruel. He had disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only questions and confusion. She had tried reaching out to him countless times, but to no avail.
As she sat there, lost in thought, a small smile crept onto her face. The memory of her friend from the past brought a small spark of joy to Frenda's heart. Even though he had lost touch for the second time, the thought of reconnecting with him after all these times brought a sense of excitement and anticipation.
"-o, do you know who it was?" The short girl's voice snapped Frenda back to reality.
She turned to her friend, a sheepish grin on her face. "Hirano." Was all she could say. The short girl looked at her, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Really?!"
"Yep, really." Frenda laughed lightly, her gaze drifting out the empty street once more. "I guess some things never change." She mused, her mind already spinning with possibilities. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts before the short girl spoke up again.
She got up from the bench, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, I think I'm going to call it a night. Thanks to the company, Kaela." Immediately, she jogged out of the area, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
He stood by the bulletin board, just a few metres to the back as just a few steps to his front were almost entirely crowded with other students. Everyone wanted to see how much their score had improved. Or at least, that's what he assumed. He wasn't really paying attention to the other students, his eyes glued to the scoreboard. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward slightly.
He for one wasn't entirely invested in his own scores nor ranking, they're just a means to an end. Still, he couldn't deny the slight feeling of accomplishment that washed over him as he saw that his name had moved up a spot or two on the list. It was nice to be recognized for his efforts. Even though most of the time said efforts were marginal at best.
The noisy crowd around the bulletin board finally began to dissipate, leaving only a few stragglers who seemed intent on studying the results long after everyone else had lost interest. Hirano tore his gaze away from the board and started to make his way through the dwindling crowd, his shoulders relaxing as he did so.
He yawned a little. The day is still long, lunch has barely begun. He could head to the cafeteria, grab something to eat and maybe take a quick nap in the classrooms. The thought of rest and relaxation was oddly appealing after a morning spent in stressing over other asinine tests. They were mostly formalities, anyway. At least, that's what he told himself to make the whole ordeal more bearable.
As he walked down the hallway, he passed by a few of his classmates, exchanging greetings and small talk. The school was, for the most part, a peaceful place. It was easy to forget the outside world and all its troubles when surrounded by the familiar faces and routine of daily life.
Hirano continued his leisurely stroll through the hallways, eventually making his way to the cafeteria. The smell of food filled his nostrils, making his stomach rumble. He took his time choosing what to eat, meandering through the serving line and loading his tray with a single dish. He couldn't sleep with a full stomach, at least not when he has to sleep on his desk.
He ate as quickly as he could, finishing before most of the others had even begun. When he was done, he deposited his tray in the return bin and headed off back towards his classroom. Sitting by his desk, he stretched out his legs, resting his head on his folded arms. The room was empty, save for the occasional dust particle floating lazily in the stream of sunlight that managed to find its way through the narrow window. It was peaceful, almost serene. Hirano closed his eyes, relishing in the quietude.
As he sat there, lost in thought, he couldn't help but wonder what he would do once he graduates from Middle School. He was supposed to be in 9th grade right now, but didn't due to certain 'circumstances' back then. Now he was stuck in a classroom with his supposed juniors.
He wondered if he should try and convince both Aiho and Kikyou to let him skip a grade so he could hasten the process and finally move on with his life. Or maybe he should just take it slow, enjoy the last year and half of his time here, and make the most of the experience. After all, he could only be this young once.
Hirano stayed in the empty classroom, lost in thought as the rest of the school day passed by. The gentle hum of the air conditioner and the occasional sound of footsteps in the hallway were the only interruptions to the silence. Finally, the bell rang, rousing him from his brief slumber.
Third period is here, it is time for English. He groaned inwardly, not exactly thrilled about the prospect of discussing Shakespeare or whatever other high-brow literature they would be subjected to today. But as he made his way to the classroom, he couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be an air of anticipation amongst his classmates. It was almost as if something out of the ordinary was about to happen.
It is only later when the principal herself enters the room and announces something that he understands the sudden buzz. Today was summer, midway through August. Exactly one more month until-
"Daihasei Festival," The whisper that left his mouth leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. He had nothing but bad memories of the annual festival, and the thought of attending again only served to make him feel uneasy. But he knew that he couldn't avoid it. It wasn't exactly mandatory for one to attend such a grand an event, but it was heavily encouraged. It was a tradition after all. And in a school as Prominent and Prestigious, this entire event was everything.
And to have their only Level 5 not participate, well, that would be... unfortunate.
He swallowed hard, forcing back the knot that had formed in his throat. There's still an entire month left before the event. Even then, the event would only last for less than a week. As the day dragged on, Hirano found it harder and harder to focus on his studies. His mind kept drifting back to the upcoming Daihasei Festival, and the memories of his previous experiences there. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something worse than anything he had encountered before.
He raised his hand, catching the attention of the principal. Half the class went quiet, those who didn't immediately realise what was happening. The principal's eyes, stern yet kindly, met his. "Yes?"
He stood up from his desk, eyes lowered but voice steady. "I would like to be exempt from the Daihasei Festival this year, sir."
The classroom fell into a hushed silence. His classmates' eyes were glued to him, their faces showing various emotions ranging from surprise to curiosity. Principal Morimoto's gaze softened, but he remained composed.
"Is there something specific that concerns you, Hirano?" he asked, his tone measured.
Hirano took a deep breath, the words he had been dreading to say forming in his mouth. "Yes, sir."
The man, imposing in his dark suit, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. "Go on."
The white haired boy shook his head. "I'd rather not," His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the classroom was silent enough for everyone to hear. He had expected some reaction, some surprise, but what he didn't expect was the sudden stillness. It was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting for his next words.
Principal Morimoto's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained silent, allowing Hirano to continue. The boy's hands were clenched in his pockets, his knuckles white. "It's something I would like to keep to myself."
Principal Morimoto's expression softened, his gaze turning thoughtful. "I see. It's understandable to have reservations about certain events, Hirano. But the Daihasei Festival is an important part of our school's tradition and spirit. It's a time for the students, faculty, and alumni to come together and celebrate the achievements of the past year."
Hirano's eyes flickered, a shadow of frustration. "You're our only Level 5, the only one. If you don't attend, it will make a difference, a noticeable one. People will talk, they'll wonder why."
Principal Morimoto leaned forward, his hands resting on his desk. "However, we can make an exception. For this year." The room's silence stretched, each second thick with anticipation. Hirano's eyes met Principal Morimoto's, searching for any sign of deception. The principal's expression was unreadable, a mask of stern authority.
"But," Principal Morimoto continued, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to press down on the entire room, "you must understand, Hirano, that such an exemption will need to be thoroughly justified and approved by the school board. There must be a compelling reason for this exemption, and it must be documented. And since you don't appear to be willing to share that reason, I'm afraid there's little we can do right now."
Hirano's face fell, the tension in his shoulders tightening. He had expected this, but it was hard to accept. He felt like he was being trapped, unable to escape the burden of his past experiences. The silence in the classroom seemed to grow thicker, the students' eyes fixed on him, as if they were waiting for some sort of revelation.
"Unless, of course," Principal Morimoto continued, his tone shifting to one of curiosity, "you're willing to attend the entire event of next year's Daihasei Festival, ensuring that your absence this year doesn't affect the school's reputation. It's a substantial commitment, but it might be a compromise worth considering."
Hirano was taken aback, unsure of how to respond. The thought of committing to next year's festival was daunting, but so was the idea of facing whatever it was he dreaded about this year's event. But to participate in the festival in its entirety next year seemed like an impossible task. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions and possibilities, each one more overwhelming than the last. The classroom seemed to pulse with unspoken thoughts.
Principal Morimoto's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watched Hirano. "It's not an easy decision, I understand that. But you have to consider the bigger picture."
Hirano's mind raced. His thoughts were tangled in a web of dread and obligation, his stomach churning with anxiety. The room seemed to close in around him, every eye on him, every breath of silence pressing him to make a decision. As Hirano stood there, the burden of his decision heavy on his shoulders, he felt like he was drowning in the silence of the classroom. He knew he had to make a choice, but the path seemed unclear.
"...I'll attend," Hirano finally said, his voice barely audible. He could feel the weight of his classmates' eyes on him, the pressure of their collective expectation. Principal Morimoto nodded slowly, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Good choice, Hirano. I'm sure it won't be easy, but sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones that lead to the greatest outcomes."
Later on, back home, Hirano sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind still churned with the implications of his decision. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being pulled into something he didn't want to be a part of. The Daihasei Festival loomed ahead, a shadow on the horizon that he couldn't avoid.
The room was dimly lit, the evening sun casting a golden hue through the thin curtains. The sound of the clock ticking on his nightstand added to the oppressive silence. Hirano's fingers absently played with the edge of the duvet, the fabric smooth and cool against his skin. He had spent the afternoon in a haze of thoughts, unable to focus on his studies or anything else. The weight of his decision seemed to press down on him, making it hard to breathe.
He stared at the wall, his eyes tracing the lines of the wallpaper, each pattern a reminder of the days that were slipping by. He had always been a quiet, reserved person, content with his own company. There were moments of solitude that felt like a refuge, a place where he could escape the world. But now, it seemed like even those moments were slipping away. The Daihasei Festival, with its bright lights, loud noises, and throngs of people, loomed as a constant reminder of his obligations.
Hirano's thoughts drifted to the days leading up to the festival. He could almost hear the chatter of his classmates, the excitement in their voices, their expectations.
He sighed. 'I could really use some company...'
Aiho and Kikyou were currently in the hospital, helping with the former's therapy. Tsuzuri and the others are out again, some Anti-Skill works that require their expertise. Something about another Skill-Out rising, the last one had been particularly intense.
Maybe... he could hang out with those two again? He could. He just needs to find the right time for it. But when? He has school to attend to during the weekdays. He wanted to reconnect with his older friends on Saturday. Sunday, he was to accompany Aiho to the hospital for an examination on her choker and an improvement on it of some sort, which most of the time took them up until late afternoon.
Hirano deflates, his thoughts growing increasingly tangled as he stared at the wall. The days seemed to stretch out endlessly, each one a reminder of the obligations he couldn't escape. His rigid shoulders sagged slightly, the burden of his responsibilities pressing down on him. He had always been someone who kept to himself, content with his quiet routines and the solitude they provided. But now, with the Daihasei Festival looming and the commitments he had made, it felt like he was drowning in obligations.
The only way he could make this work is if he were to scrap his schedule and make some sacrifices. Hirano sat in contemplative silence, his mind whirling with the possibilities of adjusting his schedule. The dim light from the setting sun cast shadows on the walls, the room almost feeling like a cave where he could retreat from the world. He knew it wouldn't be easy; upending his routine would require significant sacrifices, but it seemed like the only way to find some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.
He stood up, the decision settling in his mind like a heavy stone.
up, the decision settling in his mind like a heavy stone.
For the next few days, he went on with his daily lives routine but made a conscious effort to adjust his schedule. He sacrificed his usual afternoon naps, instead spending the time in quiet contemplation, trying to find some clarity amidst the turmoil, while also preparing his mind for the Daihasei Festival. He would often take long walks, allowing the cool breeze to wash over him, trying to clear his thoughts and find some peace.
The days flew by, each one a blur of structured time and quiet reflection. Hirano's mornings began with a routine that had become almost ritualistic. He would wake up early, the first light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The morning was his alone, a brief window of time where he could collect his thoughts before the day's obligations began.
And the next 12 hours were spent at school, each hour a reminder of the responsibilities he had taken on. The classrooms buzzed with the sound of students, teachers, and the constant hum of activity. Hirano sat through lessons, his mind sometimes drifting elsewhere. He hadn't taken his studies seriously in so long. He might actually never will.
5 days came and went. Monday to Friday, and now it was Saturday.
The morning was overcast, the sky a deep grey that seemed to swallow all light. Hirano walked through the quiet streets, the air cool and crisp. Summer was coming to a close, and the season seemed to be whispering its final goodbyes. Much of the city was still, the usual weekend bustle muted by the gloomy weather. Hirano's footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a rhythmic reminder of the choices he had made.
As he approached a familiar place from the photo they'd sent, he saw and heard something out of place. The wail of an ambulance and several people being reprimanded by Anti-Skills, wearing armours of some sort, along with a helmet. All of it red.
He didn't think much of it at first, merely thinking that it was another one of those factions that has no significance in the grand scheme of things. But something about it felt off, a nagging sense of unease that Hirano couldn't shake.
As he continued to observe, he noticed that the Anti-Skills were not just reprimanding, but also detaining people. The scene was chaotic, with bystanders trying to make sense of the situation. And then he saw a familiar blond hair, kneeling down on a person.
That's when he realised it.
He quickened his pace towards Misaki. Touma was gravely injured, having caught a particularly bad attack on his abdomen. Misaki was pressing a cloth on it, trying to keep the blood from spreading.
"Misaki..." Hirana called out, surprise in his voice. "What happened...?"
The blond looked up at him, her eyes laden with concern and guilt. "We were attacked..." she replied, her voice trembling. "He..." Hirano knelt beside Touma, his eyes scanning the scene for any immediate threats. The grey sky seemed to darken further, as if mirroring the ominous situation unfolding. The Anti-Skills were in a semi-circle, their black armors standing out starkly against the dull backdrop.
"What can you do?" Hirano asked the first responders, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.
They shook their heads. "We can't inject him with anaesthesia because he's got a low blood pressure," one of them explained, his voice laced with frustration. "We need to get him to a hospital, but we can't move him like this. He'll bleed out."
Hirano looked at Misaki, who was still clutching the cloth to Touma's wound. "We need to find a way to stabilise him," he said, his mind racing. "Can we use something to elevate his blood pressure?"
Again, they shook their heads. " We don't have the proper equipment here." Hirano clicked his tongue. For a city like Academy City, not having a proper emergency response team was unacceptable. It was imperative to act quickly.
"I... I think I can do it..." Misaki said, her voice trembling. "I know it's a long shot, but I can use my ability to stabilise his blood pressure."
Hirano looked at her. He saw the determination in her eyes, the will to help despite the danger and uncertainty. It was a moment that spoke volumes about the resilience of those who called themselves friends.
But even with her genuine wish to help, he doesn't trust Misaki's ability enough, not to mention the state of her mentality. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, his voice firm. "We need something more concrete."
Misaki's eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. "But what else can we do?" she pleaded, her voice breaking slightly. Hirano could see the desperation in her eyes, the fear of losing Touma...
It was all too familiar to him.
He sighed. He's the best and only real option here. "I just need to stabilise him, right?" That statement seems to have confused Misaki. He placed his finger inside his open wound, which prompted her to gasp before starting yelling at him.
"What're you doing?!" Hirano didn't flinch at Misaki's outburst. He focused on the wound, his finger unmoving on the wound.
He felt his blood flow, heart beat rate, brain pattern, and other vital signs. The sensation was disconcerting, but he could see the damage. The abdominal wound was deep, but it wasn't fatal. If they could just stabilise him long enough to get to a hospital...
"I've numbed his sensory input," Hirano said, his voice calm and measured. "He won't feel the pain, so do it quick." They did as asked and started operating.
Just as he'd said, Touma didn't feel a thing.
Misaki's eyes widened in shock. "How did you...?" she trailed off, her voice barely audible.
He chuckled. "Biology sucks."
The operation went on for several minutes. It was arduous, and every second felt like an eternity. He kept him from feeling any bit of pain while making sure not a single drop of his blood stained the ground any more than it had.
It wasn't how he'd imagined his Saturday would be. The operation was a blur of focused intensity, each movement precise and deliberate. Misaki's eyes were glued to his hands, her lips pressed together in silent prayer.
In the end, it was a success.
Seriously, this wasn't how he'd imagined his day would go. He had envisioned a casual stroll, perhaps a moment of respite from the daily grind, but instead, he found himself in the midst of a chaotic scene, trying to save someone's life.
Yet he didn't care. Because for once, he'd actually saved someone with his power.
Maybe, this power can be used to save just as well as it can cause pain and kill. It brought a small spark of hope to Hirano, a realisation that he had been too quick to dismiss.
We are about to enter OT territory. A whole lot of the canon event from LN, Anime and/or Manga will be deviated. Whether or not the outcome would be good or bad, I hope you all will enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing this.
Anyways, new chapter next tuesday!