The cramped bathhouse was dead silent.
Gaio furrowed his brow, fed up. He could handle a lot, but this tiny pool stuffed with a dozen guys—especially with two beefy dudes and their hairy legs brushing against his shins or knees—was too much.
If it was the spacious bathhouse up north at Todai, he might've enjoyed it.
But here? No way.
Gaio stood abruptly, and the sudden movement sent a ripple of tension through the Hero Association's S-Class heroes.
The steamy bathhouse felt like someone hit a start button. Superalloy Darkshine's biceps tensed, sending unnatural ripples across the water's surface. Atomic Samurai's toothpick snapped in half, his right hand hovering over his sword hilt. Flashy Flash's rapier scabbard glinted with a cold light, cutting a silver arc through the mist.
"Hey, standing up like that's gonna freak people out—" Yuji Itadori's complaint was cut off as Megumi Fushiguro clamped a hand over his mouth, dragging him under the water, bubbles gurgling up.
Gaio shook out his wet hair, water droplets splashing onto Flashy Flash's face.
The blonde assassin's pupils shrank to pinpoints, but Gaio just turned and stepped out of the pool, his toned muscles faintly visible through the steam.
"Too crowded," Gaio muttered, leaving the bathhouse.
"Ohh, so manly!" Sexy Prisoner squealed, clutching his face and wriggling, just as Tanktop Master's protein powder canister exploded with a bang, white powder clouding half the pool like a fog.
Zombieman silently sank his scarred arm deeper into the water, as if calculating how many seconds it'd take to heal.
Gojo Satoru's sunglasses slipped to the tip of his nose. "So, you Hero Association folks…" He caught a water droplet flicked from Superalloy Darkshine's tensed muscles. "Even soaking in a hot spring comes with murderous vibes?"
Gojo's words made the air in the bathhouse even heavier.
Just as the S-Class heroes' nerves were about to snap—
"Kidding~" Gojo flashed a grin, his blue eyes curving into crescents.
He stood with a splash, water rolling down his chiseled abs. "Man, hot springs are better when there's room to stretch~"
With his hands behind his head, he sauntered out, swaying casually.
As he lifted the bamboo curtain, he glanced back and winked at the Hero Association crew. "Since we've got so many VIPs, Nero-kun and I have a feast ready in the banquet hall. Don't miss it~"
The curtain fell, and Nichirin Kanken was already up, grabbing his towel. Yuji and Megumi exchanged a look and followed without a word.
The bathhouse was left to the Hero Association heroes. The protein powder haze cleared, revealing Sexy Prisoner still swooning. "Are we going? I'm so excited for Nero-kun's cooking~"
"Why not?" Zombieman propped his healed arm on the pool's edge. "The mission report didn't say anything about 'no freeloading.'"
Atomic Samurai spat out a fresh toothpick with a "Tch." "Guess we'll check it out."
He snapped his towel open and stood, water streaming down his scarred back. With a splash, he strode toward the edge, wrapped the towel around himself, and headed for the changing room.
The other S-Class heroes followed suit. Superalloy Darkshine's massive frame shook the pool as he stood, brushing off water and trailing Atomic Samurai. Flashy Flash rose gracefully, smoothing his wet blonde hair and picking up his scabbard before gliding out. Zombieman got up leisurely, ambling toward the changing room.
Sexy Prisoner sashayed after them, muttering about delicious food, his face lit with anticipation.
In the changing room, they quickly slipped into loose yukatas—some looking effortlessly cool, others a bit wild.
Once ready, they headed to the banquet hall together.
The doors slid open, and a wave of warm air carrying the aroma of food hit them. Gojo sat cross-legged at the head of the room, grinning wide and waving enthusiastically. "Come on in, grab a seat!"
The tables were loaded with exquisite dishes, their colors and smells practically begging to be eaten.
Yuji was already at a table, cheeks stuffed, mumbling through a full mouth, "Don't hold back, dig in!"
But the Hero Association crew hesitated, their eyes wary. The scene felt too surreal, and they weren't about to touch the food without caution.
Gojo, noticing their reluctance, gave a helpless chuckle. "Relax, it's all good! I put my heart into this spread—no tricks!"
To prove it, he grabbed a big piece of meat and chowed down with gusto.
Atomic Samurai frowned, glancing at Gaio.
Gaio was slouched lazily on an elbow, sipping sake from a cup now and then.
Gojo, quick as ever, used his technique to refill Gaio's empty cup the moment it emptied, all while still eating, his movements smooth as water.
Atomic Samurai's lips twitched into a small smirk, shaking his head. Maybe he was overthinking it.
He finally picked up his chopsticks, popped a piece of sushi into his mouth, and savored it.
Seeing Atomic Samurai dig in, the others relaxed and started eating. Soon, the banquet hall was filled with the sounds of chewing, clinking dishes, and occasional shouts for more food.
The lively chatter gradually died down.
The once-relaxed vibe turned weirdly tense again.
Gaio straightened up, crossing his legs and sitting steady. His gaze swept the room, and he spoke, his voice low but cutting through the hall like thunder: "Was it Markoy?"
The Hero Association heroes froze, their casual postures stiffening instantly.
Atomic Samurai's hand crept to his sword hilt, knuckles whitening. Superalloy Darkshine clenched his fists, muscles bulging as if ready to unleash a devastating blow. Flashy Flash's fingers tapped his rapier scabbard, a faint glint of cold steel peeking out.
Gaio seemed oblivious to their tension, pouring himself another cup of sake, downing it in one go, and saying slowly, "Make a move, and you're dead."
The moment the words left his mouth, the Hero Association heroes felt a chill. Invisible spatial rifts had woven around them, silent and deadly as hidden vipers. One wrong move, and they'd be shredded to pieces.
"How did he do that?" The question echoed in every S-Class hero's mind.
Gaio had just been calmly drinking, not even touching the blade he'd used in A-City. Yet these terrifying rifts appeared out of nowhere.
He kept sipping his sake, unfazed.
Suddenly, the banquet hall's sliding doors exploded open.
Oddly, the debris didn't scatter—it was caught in a green glow, floating in midair.
Tornado's petite face was red with fury. In a flash, she appeared before everyone, her sharp voice shattering the hall's silence: "Nero! When did you get Fubuki pregnant?!"
The words stunned everyone in the room.
Gaio, mid-sip, sprayed sake across the table, soaking it.
"What? What'd you say?" His face was pure confusion, eyes wide, mouth agape, unable to process what he'd just heard.
The entire room gawked at Tornado, the S-Class heroes' already taut nerves nearly snapping, their bodies rigid.
The jujutsu sorcerers darted looks between Gaio and Tornado, their eyes brimming with curiosity and shock.
Gojo's jaw practically hit the floor, as if the news had knocked him senseless.
But he quickly recovered, bursting into laughter, clutching his stomach and pointing at Gaio, tears streaming. "Nero~ Not only are you quick with a blade, but you're that quick at knocking people up too? Hahaha!"
Gaio's head was buzzing. He waved his hands frantically. "Hold up, Tornado, don't mess around—this has gotta be a misunderstanding!"
But Tornado wasn't having it. Hands on her hips, face flushed with anger, she shouted, "Misunderstanding? Then what's with Fubuki's weird mood lately? And what's this about Psyko saying your genes and Fubuki's would make a baby stronger than me?!"
"What the hell does that even mean?!" Gaio finally understood how Kenjaku felt getting pummeled by him.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Tornado, I have no idea what you're talking about."
The banquet hall's air froze.
Gojo was now rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically.
"If Fubuki and I were really…" Gaio faltered, choosing his words carefully, "then you coming to grill me might make sense—"
His voice suddenly spiked. "But I'm not even with her yet! Can you at least wait till I've got a shot with her?!"
Tornado's telekinetic field popped out of existence. She dropped thirty centimeters, her mouth forming a perfect "O." "Wait… yeah, that makes sense?"
Then she bristled again, her green curls spiking like a porcupine. "Hold on! Did you just admit you've got a thing for her?!"
Gaio's face froze, his lips twitching uncontrollably.
Crap. He'd blurted out his little crush on Fubuki without thinking.
"You sneaky white-haired jerk! You are after Fubuki!" Tornado's rage flared higher, and every object in the banquet hall—plates, chopsticks, cups—floated up under her telekinesis.
Dishes clinked chaotically, sake spilled from cups, forming sparkling arcs in the air, held aloft by her power.
Gaio opened his mouth, at a loss for words, and just dropped his head, pressing a hand to his face.
Meanwhile, the heroes, trapped by Gaio's spatial rifts and too scared to move, watched the chaos unfold.
"Fight all you want, but can you let us go first?!" their minds screamed in unison.