Aki unconsciously straightened to attention. Kishibe uncrossed his arms, regarding Hiroshi with a curious gaze, as if appraising how the "kid" had grown. Himeno stood up from the wall, and a subtle smile touched her lips. Kobeni's eyes widened; she whispered in awe, "That's him…?" to Arai, who nodded quickly. Denji and Power leaned forward, openly staring with unabashed curiosity. Angel cracked one eye fully open. Madoka closed his laptop, giving Hiroshi his full focus.
Hiroshi paused at the head of the room and swept a gaze over the assembled agents – his team now. He saw exhaustion in their faces, cuts and bruises from battle, wariness, and hope all at once. He also saw friends – some old, some new – gathered in what might be the only truly safe room left in Tokyo. For a heartbeat, emotion swelled in his chest: pride at what each of them had accomplished, relief that they'd made it home alive, and a heavy sense of responsibility for what was to come. But Hiroshi was a master of appearances. He pushed down the weight in his heart and donned an easy grin.
"Why does everyone look like they're at a funeral?" he asked, voice warm and jovial as he spread his hands in greeting. "Lighten up, folks – last I checked, we saved the world." He arched an eyebrow playfully. "Or at least, we saved a lot of it."
A few chuckles answered him, tension easing by a fraction. Hiroshi stepped further in, nodding affably to individuals as he passed. When he reached Aki – who was standing almost at attention – Hiroshi clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to see you, Aki."
Aki relaxed slightly and nodded back. "Sir."
"'Sir'? Oof, none of that," Hiroshi laughed. "I've been an Assistant Director for five minutes and already getting called sir." He turned to address the room, his grin widening. "That's right, in case you hadn't heard: I somehow went straight from solo spy to Assistant Director. Talk about a career jump, huh?"
Denji's eyes lit up with recognition and surprise. "So it's true! They really made you the new Assistant Director?!" he blurted out, unfiltered as always.
Hiroshi shot him a finger-gun gesture of confirmation. "Guilty as charged, Denji."
The ripple of laughter that spread this time was genuine. "Damn, they move fast," Kishibe remarked with a smirk. "I remember when you were still wet behind the ears."
"And now he outranks you, old man," Himeno teased Kishibe, winking at Hiroshi.
Hiroshi chuckled, then put on a mock-stern face, planting his hands on his hips. "Indeed. All of you, be warned: I plan to abuse my new powers mercilessly." He dramatically cleared his throat, imitating a pompous bureaucrat. "First order of business: paperwork. Look, Aki," – he swiveled to face Aki, fighting back a smile – "I'm going to dump all the paperwork on you."
Aki blinked, then let out something almost like a laugh – a rare sound from him. The absurdity of the statement, paired with Hiroshi's faux authoritarian tone, caught him off guard. "Please don't," he replied dryly, playing along. "I think I've had enough paperwork for one lifetime, Sir."
"You sure?" Hiroshi quipped, crossing his arms in an exaggerated thoughtful pose. "I have a lovely seven-hundred page after-action report from my Shanghai op that needs filing. I'll even let you color-code it."
Aki made a face as if he might be sick. "On second thought, assign it to Denji. He could use the practice," he countered, his lips curving in a rare smirk.
"Hey!" Denji protested, to another round of light laughter.
Hiroshi laughed the loudest, raising his palms in surrender. "Alright, alright – no extra paperwork. I promise." He gave Aki a subtle nod, an unspoken thanks for playing along. For just a moment, their eyes met, and Aki noticed a flicker in Hiroshi's blue gaze – a flicker of genuine anxiety beneath the mirth.
Hiroshi's eyes betrayed him for only a heartbeat. He glanced around the familiar concrete walls and the faces of his comrades, and an old unease seemed to pass over him like a shadow. Aki recognized it; he had seen that exact look in the mirror after returning from a deadly mission – the look of someone who is happy to be home, yet fearful of what "home" has become. He's nervous about being back in Tokyo, Aki realized. He's covering it with jokes.
With a quiet voice only Hiroshi could hear, Aki said, "It's good to have you back. Tokyo hasn't been the same… and neither have we." There was understanding in Aki's eyes, a reassurance that whatever haunted Hiroshi here, he wasn't alone in facing it.
Hiroshi's posture eased at that, and he gave Aki a grateful, almost imperceptible smile. "It's good to be back," he replied softly. "Especially with all of you here."
To break the moment before it grew heavy, Hiroshi turned his attention to two agents who were practically vibrating with curiosity. Denji and Power had inched closer, staring at Hiroshi like he was a mythical creature come to life. Hiroshi decided to have a little fun with them.
"So," he said, clapping once, "I hear some of you caused a few… messy situations out there." He pretended to scrutinize the room, then zeroed in on the obvious culprits with a playful glare. "Denji. Power. Would you two know anything about that?"
Power immediately pointed at Denji. "It was him!" she proclaimed, chin jutting forward defiantly. "He failed to capture some lowly grunts and they blew up a bridge in his face. Pathetic, really."
Denji's jaw dropped. "What – you – you're the one who leveled an entire building in Rabat 'just 'cuz'!" he retorted, turning red.
Power tossed her hair haughtily. "That building was clearly in league with the enemy. I did what was necessary."
Hiroshi raised a hand, chuckling. "Relax, I already got the reports. Let's see…" He tapped his chin as if recalling from memory. "Denji: chased smugglers through a jungle, fought an Arbok bare-handed, and blew up a bridge." Denji scratched the back of his head, looking both proud and embarrassed as a few colleagues gave him thumbs-ups or pats on the back. Hiroshi then looked at Power. "Power: incited a firefight in a desert stronghold, defeated a militia – and did level a building or two in the process."
"It was only one building," Power interjected, puffing her cheeks.
Hiroshi laughed. "Only one, she says! Good to know." He put on a mock stern face again. "Clearly, you two have some excess energy to burn. I think the solution is obvious: double training sessions for both of you." He wagged his finger as though scolding misbehaving children. "Maybe even triple. Can't have you making Tokyo into Swiss cheese when we hit the ground running."
Denji's face fell into comedic horror. "Double training? Aw, come on!" he groaned, slumping. "I already run 10K every morning and do 500 push-ups—"
"Which you skip half the time," Aki chimed in, unable to resist needling him.
Denji shot Aki a betrayed look. "Traitor! Don't give him ideas!"
Meanwhile, Power cackled at Denji's misery. "Yes, punish him! Make him strong so I have a proper rival to crush." She thumped her chest, then paused as Hiroshi's words sank in. "...Wait, both of us?"
"Oh yes." Hiroshi gave her a mirthless grin of pure "boss" energy. "You too, Power. You blow it up, you buy it. Or in this case, train for it."
Power's mouth hung open in exaggerated shock. She stomped one foot on her chair. "This is oppression! I am perfect as I am!" she declared, drawing laughs. "I need no extra training, only battle!"
"Well, battles are coming," Hiroshi assured her, "and I need you in top shape for them. So humor me on the training, will you? Both of you." He pointed between Denji and Power, who each mumbled something that might have been agreement, though Power's sounded suspiciously like "I'll train when pigs fly".
The others watched with amusement at the exchange.