Love Overdose 2
Hiro was on edge. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop looking over his shoulder, to stop scanning the crowd for familiar faces, but he couldn’t help it. The others—his so-called friends—were out there somewhere, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that any minute now they’d pull some ridiculous stunt to “help.”
Hiro wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow the wind had picked up, and cherry blossom petals now floated around them in a picturesque swirl. Orochi stood still for a moment, her hydra heads pausing mid-motion, as though captivated by the sudden scene. The breeze caught her hair, lifting it just enough to frame her face, and Hiro’s brain stopped working.
She looked at him, confused. "What’s wrong?"
Hiro opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was struck silent, not by her question, but by the realization that there weren’t any sakura trees anywhere nearby. His gaze shifted, scanning the area—and then he saw them.
Behind a line of bushes, he could make out the unmistakable forms of Sally and Bobby. Bobby was holding an industrial-sized bag of fake cherry blossom petals, while Sally threw fistfuls into the air with an unsettling level of enthusiasm. Beside them, Gigan and Hitomi, now in their full dragon forms, flapped their wings to generate the wind effect.
Hiro’s eye twitched. Of course.
"Let’s, uh, keep walking," he managed, steering Orochi away before she could notice anything.
She blinked, a little surprised by his sudden urgency, but nodded. "Sure. Where to?"
"Anywhere but here," Hiro muttered under his breath, though he forced a smile to cover it.
They hadn’t gone far before they ran into another “coincidence.” A mascot character, this time a bear wearing a bright pink bowtie, appeared out of nowhere and handed Orochi a balloon shaped like a heart. Orochi accepted it with a slight tilt of her head, thanking the mascot politely. Hiro, however, was less gracious.
He recognized the defeated slump of the bear’s shoulders immediately. "Chris?" he hissed under his breath, glaring at the mascot.
The bear didn’t respond, but the way it shuffled away confirmed Hiro’s suspicion. Just how many costumed did Inigo have?
"That was nice of them," Orochi said, twirling the string of her balloon.
"Yeah. Super thoughtful," Hiro said through clenched teeth.
They moved on, but it was clear the others weren’t done. Not long after, Hiro spotted a “maid” standing by the side of the walkway, offering packages of tissues. The maid had black hair in long braids, glasses, and a traditional maid uniform. A typical sign of the presence of a maid cafe nearby.
Hiro froze. He knew who it was before they even got close.
"Good afternoon," the maid said, holding out a pack of tissues with a slightly forced smile.
Hiro snatched the tissues from Ian's hand without making eye contact. "Thanks," he grumbled, pulling Orochi along quickly.
"Does that maid feel a little familiar to you too?" Orochi asked, her hydra heads twisting around to look behind them.
"Nope. Definitely not," Hiro said, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing.
She didn’t press the issue, thankfully. Still, Hiro couldn’t shake the feeling that she was starting to get suspicious. He decided to take control of the situation before it spiraled any further.
"Hey, how about we head to the arcade?" he suggested, trying to sound casual.
Orochi hesitated, her expression thoughtful. "Actually, maybe we should do something different for a change."
Hiro blinked. "Different?"
"Yeah. I don’t know, maybe... the batting center?"
Hiro’s stomach dropped. The batting center? That was a complete deviation from their usual routine, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this idea wasn’t entirely hers.
"Uh, sure," he said finally, forcing a smile. "Why not?"
Orochi seemed right at home, grabbing a bat and stepping into one of the cages without hesitation.
Hiro stayed back, watching her take a few practice swings. The hydra heads coiled around her shoulders, almost as though they were watching the ball with the same intensity.
Behind him, Hiro caught a glimpse of movement. He turned just in time to see Bobby and Sally pretending to be staff members, wiping down equipment and keeping a suspiciously close eye on his and Orochi’s cage. Farther back, Hifumi was still in his thief-like disguise, leaning casually against a wall with his arms crossed, again acting like some kind of undercover agent.
Hiro groaned. They’re everywhere.
When Orochi stepped out of the cage, she handed him the bat. "Your turn," she said, smiling.
Hiro hesitated. He couldn’t exactly back out now. Taking the bat, he stepped into the cage, trying to focus on the machine in front of him and not the chaos happening just out of sight.
He gripped the bat tightly, feeling the familiar ache in his wrists and shoulders flare up as he shifted into position. The batting cage felt strangely quiet despite the occasional ping of balls hitting aluminum bats elsewhere. He glanced back at Orochi, who was watching him with an encouraging smile, her hydra heads lazily twisting in the air above her as if trying to predict his swing.
Alright, Hiro, he thought to himself, trying to drown out the dull ache in his body. If you can hit a home run, you’ll confess. Screw it. You’ll just come out and say it.
It was a reckless thought, but for a fleeting moment, it filled him with a strange, almost desperate confidence. He set his stance and focused on the pitching machine.
The first ball flew at him faster than he expected. He swung instinctively, the bat cutting through the air far too late. The ball smacked into the backstop behind him, and the small digital display lit up: Strike One.
"Don't worry, you've got this!" Orochi said.
Hiro tried to ignore the burn creeping up his arms. It’s fine. I’ve got two more chances. He adjusted his grip on the bat and readied himself again.
The machine whirred, and the second ball came hurtling towards him. He swung harder this time, gritting his teeth against the strain in his shoulders. The bat sliced through empty air once more, the sound of the ball hitting the net behind him louder than he’d like.
Strike Two.
Hiro could feel his confidence slipping. His palms were sweaty against the bat, and his legs felt unsteady. He inhaled deeply, forcing his nerves into submission. One more chance. If he could just focus—
The machine fired the third ball. He swung with everything he had, but the pain in his shoulders flared up sharply, and his balance faltered. The bat missed entirely, and Hiro stumbled forward, barely catching himself before falling flat on his face.
Strike Three.
He stood there for a moment. The ache in his body felt heavier now, not just physically. He knew he wouldn’t hit it. He was just making excuses to justify not going through with things.
When he turned to leave the cage, Orochi gave him a small clap, as if trying to lighten the mood. "You gave it a good shot,".
"Yeah," Hiro muttered, managing a weak grin. "Guess I’m not cut out for baseball."
He handed the bat back to her as they swapped places and limped back to the bench where they’d left their things. As he sat down, wincing slightly, a burst of laughter caught his attention.
Across the range, a group of middle school kids were gathered, whispering and snickering not-so-subtly. Hiro’s eyes narrowed as he realized they were mocking the way he walked, some of them exaggeratedly leaning on imaginary canes while others mimicked his awkward posture.
He sighed and looked away, trying to ignore them.
But then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Orochi had seen them too. Her expression darkened instantly.
Before he could stop her, she was already striding toward the group with her hydra heads hissing and coiling around her like a living storm. The kids froze as she approached, their laughter dying in their throats as her glare bore down on them.
"Is there something funny about him?" Orochi asked, her voice steady but cold enough to send a chill through them.
The kids stammered, their bravado crumbling under her gaze.
"I-I didn’t mean anything," one of them mumbled, looking down at his shoes.
Orochi took another step closer, folowed by more hissing. "Then why don’t you keep your mouths shut and show some respect?"
The kids didn’t need any more encouragement. They grabbed their things and bolted for the exit.
Hiro sighed, shaking his head. "You didn’t have to do that," he said as she returned to the bench.
"They were being jerks," Orochi replied simply, sitting down beside him. "You shouldn’t have to put up with that."
"Thanks," he said finally.
After a couple of seconds of silence it was Orochi who spoke first. "Alright, Hiro!" she declared, pointing dramatically at the pitching machine. "If you couldn’t hit the ball, I’ll do it for you! And not just one—you’re getting four! Watch and learn!"
She stood in the batting cage, gripping a bat tightly in her hands while her hydra heads held three more bats in their gaping maws.
Hiro blinked at her, a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment bubbling to the surface yet he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head. "You’re really going all out, huh?"
"Duh," she replied, grinning as she stepped up to the plate. "I’m not gonna let some machine make you look bad. Plus, how often do I get to flex like this?"
The first pitch flew toward her, and with a sharp crack, she sent the ball soaring into the net at the far end of the cage.
"One down!"
The hydra heads took their turns, each one swinging in perfect synchronization with Orochi’s movements. It was chaotic but mesmerizing, the way the heads twisted and struck with incredible precision. By the time she was done, the display above the cage blinked with the tally: four home runs.
Orochi turned to Hiro, her grin wide and triumphant. "See? Easy!"
"Yeah, yeah," Hiro said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was almost enjoying himself now. It had been a while since he’d seen this side of her—unapologetically bold and full of life.
After a few more rounds, Hiro excused himself to grab another drink. As he approached the vending machines, he spotted the same group of middle school kids from earlier lingering nearby. They hadn’t noticed him yet, but their conversation carried over clearly.
"Can you believe those retards?" one of them said, laughing. "Acting all tough like they're hot stuff."
For a moment, he considered just walking away—avoiding the confrontation entirely.
"Right? She’s probably just some overgrown lizard with delusions of grandeur," another chimed in. "Bet she sleeps in a terrarium or something."
He clenched his fists, his cane tapping against the floor as his grip shifted.
"Or she’s got, like, one brain cell that all her heads have to share."
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the kids, his face flushed and his hands trembling slightly.
"H-hey," he started, his voice cracking. The kids turned to look at him, their expressions shifting from surprise to unease.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, you guys... you watch the Shiketsu tournament, right?"
The kids exchanged confused glances. "Uh, yeah?"
"Yeah..."
"You know we're from Shiketsu right?"
One of the kids awkwardly nodded. They were seriously freaked out by him.
Hiro nodded rapidly, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "Cool, cool. Then you saw Orochi, right? She was awesome, wasn’t she? Like, seriously, did you see how she kept up though all thouse rounds—" He gestured wildly, miming some incomprehensible action. "—you know, having a mostly defensive quirk and still pushing on the offense? That was insane!"
The kids stared at him, their discomfort growing as Hiro’s enthusiasm spiraled out of control.
"And it’s not just that," he continued, his voice rising. "She’s fought actual villains before, you know? Real ones! She’s been out there risking her life while you... while we all are just standing around like a bunch of idiots!"
He was gesturing so much now that his cane almost slipped from his grasp. He caught it awkwardly, his face burning red, but he didn’t stop.
"She’s not just strong, either," he said, his voice louder now. "She’s been helping me train, like imagine seeing my fucked up body and being able to say "Don't worry, I'll help you out!" and actually sound believable! And don’t even get me started on her DDR skills—she’s practically unbeatable! Like, who even has the coordination to pull those moves off?! It’s nuts!"
The kids were inching away now.
"And—and," Hiro stammered, his voice cracking again as he worked himself into a frenzy, "she’s—she’s damn fine too, right?! Scales and all! You got a problem with lizards?!"
The kids didn’t stick around to answer. They scattered like startled birds.
Hiro stood there, panting slightly, his face still hot. As the adrenaline faded, he realized what he’d just done.
"...What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself, burying his face in his hands.
He let out a long sigh and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Something caught his eye. One of the panels overhead had been shifted slightly out of place, leaving a dark gap. Squinting, he could just make out two distinct shapes peering down at him from the shadows.
One of them was unmistakably Inigo, now sporting yet another costume—a cheap suit jacket, a fake mustache, and a bowler hat. His smug expression said everything: Oh my god, he just said that. Beside him, barely distinguishable in the dim light, was Hoge, her blurry outline faint but present. She didn’t say anything, just tilted her head slightly as if silently judging him.
Hiro’s eye twitched. "Fuck off, goddammit!" he growled, grabbing his cane and lobbing it upward.
The cane thudded harmlessly against the panel as Inigo and Hoge scrambled to close it. "And how many costumes do you even have?!" Hiro barked.
The panel slid back into place with a click, leaving Hiro seething below. He muttered under his breath, retrieving his cane from where it had clattered to the floor.
When he finally turned back toward the range, he saw Orochi standing a few steps away. Her and her hydra heads' expressions surprisingly neutral as if they hadn’t just witnessed his outburst.
After a bit more batting—Orochi once again putting on a show while Hiro sat to the side—they left the batting center and wandered aimlessly. The streets were quieter now.
When he glanced at her, she didn’t seem as cheerful as before. Her steps were a bit slower, her gaze focused ahead but unfocused at the same time.
He cleared his throat and scrambled for a topic.
"So, uh," he started, his voice a little too loud, "did you know that in parabiology, certain recovery quirks have their regenerative abilities actually tied to their—"
Something graced his cheek, cutting him off mid-ramble. He froze, blinking in confusion, then wiped his face to find bit of blood seeping from a small cut.
"What the—" He looked behind him.
Standing a short distance away, partially obscured by a cluster of vending machines, was Sally. Her eyes were narrowed into daggers. She was being restrained—barely—by Nene and Yui. The latter two were clearly struggling.
Sally mouthed something at him: Don't. Fuck. Up. The. Mood. Like. That!
Hiro swallowed hard. Did she really almost shoot him for choosing the wrong topic?
"Something wrong?" Orochi asked, turning toward him.
"Nope!" Hiro said quickly, his voice cracking slightly. "Nothing at all!"
Orochi tilted her head but didn’t press further.
The air between them felt heavy now, not in an oppressive way, but in the quiet, unspoken tension that settled when neither party knew what to say.
His inner voice mocked him with every word he had blurted out today, magnifying his embarrassment.
The world around him blurred into a haze as he focused on his own inner turmoil. It wasn’t until Orochi’s voice cut through his daze—“Are you okay?”—that he noticed where they had ended up.
The street stretched out before them, lined with shuttered shops and dim streetlights. It was painfully familiar. The memories came rushing back. This was the place. That place.
An old woman had collapsed here, clutching her chest as a purse snatcher darted away with her bag into a van. Hiro had acted without thinking, sprinting after the thief. He’d managed to keep the woman alive, returned the purse, and even managed to catch the culprits. It should’ve been a moment of triumph. A story he could look back on with pride.
Teachers found out. The school board got involved. There were rules against vigilante behavior for students without proper licenses, and he had broken them. The reprimand had been swift and severe. Suspension. Mandatory counseling. He managed to stay on the hero course, just being held backa year, all thanks to Hijack. He missed him more than he wanted to admit. He was a great teacher who, time and time again, went out of his way to help Hiro.
Why did he want to be a hero in the first place?
Memories from middle school and his first year of high school started flooding back. He saw himself sitting alone at lunch, a book in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. The sound of laughter from nearby tables reached him, but it felt distant, muffled, like hearing the world through a wall.
He remembered PE classes, standing awkwardly to the side when everyone else paired up for drills. The gym teacher would try to make it better by partnering him with someone—usually the kid who also got left out, if not the teacher themselves—but the forced kindness only made the loneliness sharper.
He remembered the way people treated him, not cruelly but awkwardly. Forced smiles. Polite small talk. It was worse than being ignored because it reminded him that he didn’t belong.
And then there were the moments he was alone because he wanted to be. Sitting in the library long after school had ended, reading books about things no one else cared about. Pretending it didn’t bother him. Telling himself he didn’t need anyone.
Yeah, that worked out real well, didn’t it?
He hated himself for being so awkward, for never knowing the right thing to say or do. He hated how he always seemed to weird people out, how his attempts to connect always came off as either too much or not enough.
Most of all, he hated the part of himself that gave up. The part that settled for being a loner because it was easier than trying and failing.
He felt like a mess of contradictions—brilliant but awkward, included but still on the margins, happy but inexplicably unsettled. His mind ran in circles, dissecting every part of himself in a desperate search for answers.
Maybe it’s just something wrong with my biochemistry.
I mean, I’m supposed to be a genius, right? Someone with the brainpower to figure out problems nobody else can.
Then why can’t I fix me?
His life had changed so much since the incident that landed him here. He had friends now. Real ones. He was part of something, included in ways that still caught him off guard. And then there was her.
He glanced at Orochi. She looked so at ease, so effortless in her presence. Hiro felt a pang of something—envy, admiration, longing? He didn’t know anymore.
He was in love, and it terrified him.
But even with all the good that had come into his life, doubts still lingered like a shadow that refused to be chased away. What do I even have doubts about? he wondered. The question gnawed at him. It couldn’t all be chalked up to the awkwardness of being a teenager, could it? If humans were social creatures, wasn’t he supposed to feel more at ease by now?
Does this mean I’m a failure as a human?
What's the point of asking myself all of this?
What am I pretending to be all deep for?"
What was he scared of, really? Was it rejection? Being alone again?
And then, unbidden, those white eyes filled his mind. The Reaper’s eyes. Sandatsu.
Hiro shivered, but the fear didn’t come. Not this time. He wasn’t sure if it was because nothing could scare him more than those eyes, or if, deep down, he had accepted them. Maybe, in some twisted way, he believed they saw something no one else could. A truth hidden from everyone but the Reaper.
The thought was strange but comforting.
Hiro exhaled deeply, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind quieted. The doubts didn’t vanish completely, but they faded into the background, small and insignificant.
He looked at her, really looked at her, and something inside him clicked. The awkwardness, the second-guessing, the overthinking—it all melted away in that moment. Without realizing it, he stopped walking.
“You,” he began, his voice unsteady but growing firmer with each word. “You’re... the most beautiful existence I’ve ever seen.”
Orochi froze.
“I’m serious,” he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush now that the dam had broken. “You’re amazing. I mean, look at you. You’re strong and confident, and you’ve been there for me when I didn’t even know how to be there for myself. You make everything brighter. I don’t even care if this sounds corny or dumb because it’s true.”
Her expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. Even her hydra heads stared at him with their mouths open.
Hiro took a breath, his heart pounding in his chest like it was trying to break free. “I like you, Orochi. And I don’t just mean as a friend or whatever. I like you. A lot. So... would you go out with me?”
“Huh?” she said, her voice a little higher-pitched than usual. Her hydra heads exchanged glances with one another, as if they were trying to silently communicate—or maybe process what had just happened. One head tilted slightly to the side, another stared with it's mouth awkwardly open, and a third let out a soft hiss, almost like a sigh.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “You—you like me? Me? Like... really like me?”
Hiro stood there, shoulders tense, gripping his cane tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him from dissolving into thin air. He nodded, unable to find his voice again, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
“I... uh...” Orochi’s hydra heads began murmuring among themselves in low, incoherent whispers. Her main body, meanwhile, fidgeted nervously, her claws clutching at the hem of her skirt. “I mean, you’re serious, right? You’re not just, like, joking? Or messing with me? Or—”
“I’m serious,” Hiro blurted out, his voice firmer than he expected. “I mean it. I like you, Orochi. I think you’re... amazing.”
Her hydra heads immediately erupted into a chaotic cacophony, each head reacting differently—one letting out a delighted squeal, another biting the first to shut it up, and a third attempting to shush all of them while simultaneously looking like it might faint.
Orochi herself was visibly struggling to keep up with her own emotions. “I don’t... I mean, this is—I just—” She squeezed her eyes shut, her claws now clutching at her knees as though grounding herself. “Okay, wait. Give me a second to think. This is a lot.”
Hiro, mortified, began to panic. “I—I’m sorry! You don’t have to say anything! I shouldn’t have—”
“No!” she interrupted, shooting him a look that was somehow both flustered and determined. “No, it’s not... bad! It’s just... surprising. Really, really surprising.”
Her hydra heads were still whispering among themselves, and she swatted at one absentmindedly to quiet it. She took a deep breath, her golden eyes meeting Hiro’s.
“I—uh...” She trailed off, her voice cracking slightly. Then, in a quieter tone, she said, “I didn’t think... anyone would ever say something like that to me.”
Hiro’s heart sank. “Why not? You’re incredible.”
Her hydra heads all froze again, and her face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Stop saying stuff like that!” she mumbled, her voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands, her hydra heads collectively mimicking the gesture as best they could.
“You really mean that?” she asked, her voice quieter than he’d ever heard it.
“I do,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves raging inside him. “Every word.”
The silence that followed was unbearable. Hiro felt like the world had stopped spinning, like time itself had frozen to make him suffer. He braced himself for rejection, for laughter, for something that would send him spiraling again.
For a moment, she just looked at him, her hydra heads tilting in unison as if they were trying to process what had just happened. Then, finally, she nodded.
“Yes,” she repeated, her smile growing wider, though her hydra heads were now all pointedly looking away, as if pretending not to be part of this.
Hiro blinked, barely processing her words. “Wait, really?”
“Really,” she said, laughing softly.
Hiro barely had time to process Orochi’s smile and her reply when he suddenly heard a loud pop and the sound of cheering. Confetti exploded into the air, a cascade of tiny, colorful paper pieces raining down around them like some surreal, spontaneous festival.
“CONGRATULATIONS!” came a chorus of voices from all directions.
Orochi turned, startled, to see the entire gang emerging from behind corners, bushes, and even the tops of nearby walls like they’d rehearsed this moment for weeks. Inigo, wearing yet another costume—this time a gaudy tuxedo with a glittery sash that read Love Guru—was leading the charge, waving a sparkly wand.
Sally was hauling a massive box that seemed to contain both snacks and, somehow, a fully frosted cake. Bobby followed behind her, looking sheepish but carrying another, slightly smaller cake, which he quickly tried to hide behind his back.
Orochi’s hydra heads whipped around to take in the scene, their expressions a mix of suspicion and delight. The one closest to the confetti sneezed, sending a spray of glitter back toward Chris, who swatted it out of his face with a laugh.
“What is this?” Orochi asked, her tone somewhere between confusion and embarrassment, though the faint blush across her cheeks betrayed the happiness behind her stern facade.
“Are you kidding?” Sally called out, grinning ear to ear. “We had to celebrate!”
“You said yes!” Nene added, throwing a handful of confetti in Hiro’s direction.
“Not to mention,” Chris said, “we were all rooting for you two. Like, all of us.”
Even Yui, usually so reserved, clapped softly, her hands barely audible over the noise but her smile genuine.
Hifumi clapped Hiro on the shoulder, grinning. “Congrats, dude. Took you long enough.”
Inigo leaned in close, waggling his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you had it in you, my guy. But you did it! You—” He stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern.
“Wait,” Hifumi said, squinting at Hiro. “Is he... okay?”
The others turned to look at Hiro, who was standing stock-still, his face completely blank. Orochi reached out, confused, just as his knees buckled slightly.
“Dude,” Bobby muttered, waving a hand in front of Hiro’s face. “He’s not moving.”
“He passed out standing up,” Hifumi declared, half in disbelief, half in awe.
“That’s some serious shonen energy right there,” Inigo said, crossing his arms.
“It’s determination!” Bobby added, nodding sagely. “He pushed himself to the limit!”
“Or,” Hoge said dryly, jabbing Inigo in the ribs with her elbow, “he’s just a dumbass who doesn’t know how to pace himself.”
When Hiro woke up, the first thing he saw was one of Orochi’s hydra heads staring directly at him. Its reptilian eyes were uncomfortably close, and its forked tongue flicked toward his face.
“Uh,” Hiro mumbled, still groggy, “am I—”
Before he could finish, the hydra snapped forward and bit his nose—not hard, but enough to send a shock through his system.
“OW!” Hiro yelped, sitting bolt upright out of reflex. Unfortunately, his sudden movement caused his forehead to collide with something else.
“Ah—!” Orochi’s voice was startled, and Hiro’s brain finally caught up to the fact that he’d just headbutted her.
His head dropped back down, and it took him a second to realize that he’d been lying on her lap. Her lap.
Panic surged through him, and instead of sitting up like a normal person, he rolled sideways in a blind attempt to escape. The move sent him tumbling off the bench and onto the ground with a graceless thud.
“Smooth,” Yui remarked quietly from somewhere nearby.
Face burning, Hiro scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his clothes and avoiding everyone’s gazes. “What... what happened?”
Orochi, still sitting on the bench, rubbed her forehead where they’d collided. She looked more amused than annoyed. “You passed out after confessing, so they decided to celebrate while you were out. Inigo insisted you rest your head like this. He insisted, like, a lot.”
“What?!” Hiro turned toward the crowd.
Inigo, who was busy setting up a table full of snacks, didn’t even look up. “You’re welcome,” he said casually, popping open a can of soda.
Hifumi leaned closer to Hiro, grinning. “You should’ve seen your face when you passed out. Absolute legend.”
“Anyway,” Sally said, clapping her hands together, “we’ve got cake, snacks, balloons, the whole shebang!"
Hiro looked around, taking in the scene. Tables had been set up with chips, drinks, and an absurd amount of colorful decorations. Balloons floated lazily in the air, and someone had even strung up a banner that read, CONGRATS, HIRO & OROCHI! in bright, mismatched letters.
For the first time in a long time, Hiro felt like things might just be okay.