He looked up at Qingxiao, his lips moving, but no words came out.
"You're different from Ryu Ishigori, that guy who calls everyone sweet whenever he fights."
Qingxiao's voice was quiet, seemingly audible only to the two of them:
"He didn't have many regrets left in life, but you're different.
Don't you still want to discover what love is? You haven't found someone who understands you yet, a true friend."
"Maybe there was no one four hundred years ago, but things are different now. I think you'll find that person."
Hajime Kashimo's Adam's apple bobbed hard.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, to retort, "Who needs friends?" or ask, "Aren't you that person?" But he swallowed the words before they left his lips.
"Besides, I don't want anything to happen to any of you.
At least Ryu Ishigori won't blow himself up. You're different. I'm not confident I could save you again if you activated Mythical Beast Amber."
Qingxiao paused, then spoke words of immense weight.
So heavy that Hajime Kashimo's pupils contracted sharply, so heavy that even Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto beside them stopped tapping their fingers on the table and stared at Qingxiao, dumbfounded.
The people farther down the room were still bewildered. They hadn't heard the conversation over here and had no idea why the atmosphere had suddenly grown heavy.
"So, for my sake, don't use Mythical Beast Amber, all right?
Stay alive."
Hajime Kashimo stared blankly at Qingxiao, his heart in turmoil.
Four hundred years of loneliness, four hundred years of being understood by no one-it was as though a hand had gently taken hold of it all.
He wanted to say, "I've already found someone who understands me," but no matter how he tried, he couldn't get the words out.
Those words