ajaw shady facts

why does life slumber?

[kii-nami]

NIKA, '98, she/her, ukrainian; i yap a lot and can't write for shit. basic dni, this is an 18+ blog.

HOYOVERSE:

SUNDAY: gilded dreams: part one | part two | part three | part four PHAINON ft. mydei: stained glass origin, neverchanging THRAIN: white comet's descent: part one | part two KYRYLL: eveningstar plaza chronicles: part one | part two | part three

MISCELLANEOUS:

MIKEY & IZANA: loaded GOD complex (cock it and pull it) SENKU ft. gen: codex hirundo

useful links: askbox | ao3 | quotev

[kii-nami]

hi to the anon who is kind enough to read codex! i posted the 6 prewritten chapters on ao3/quotev already so you can read them there if you want. it takes too much time to post on here and i don't want to clog the tag with more slop i'm sorry :(

[kii-nami]

HAPPY 20 CHAPTERS!

yayyyy seven more to go and i'm out of pre written stuff. i am debating posting it all at the same time ngl

[kii-nami]

CONTENTS: VOLUME 20: ON UGLY MEN, GORGEOUS WOMEN, AND INVASIVE SPECIES

You pretend that you don’t notice the weird tension floating around when you exit the lab. It’s not hard to piece things together when Reina winks at you, a pointer finger pressed against her pouty lips. You don’t know what’s worse, the fact that your friends are out there actively spying on you, or the fact that these girls seem to be delusional as all hell by imagining some sort of dramatic scenarios where there can’t be any.

Kohaku is still vibrating when you unclasp the vials from your skirt and showcase them to the girls. “Ginro got his smoke bomb, but our weapon of choice is right here,” you say, passing the vials around to each of your friends.

Amaryllis curiously rolls one of the ampules in between her fingers, unsure what exactly she is supposed to do with the liquid sealed inside the glass. “What’s this?” She asks, tying the string around her neck, to hide your gift under her bulky choker.

“Poison,” you lie, your face falling completely flat before you continue. “If he touches you in any way, you kill the motherfucker.”

Your statement seems a little contradictory with your own belief of humanity not being deserving of playing God, but even you have a couple of exceptions. There are not a lot of things that you think warrant a death sentence, but rape is one of them. If a person deems themselves important enough to enforce their own will upon you in such a way, you have the right to rise above your station and remove them from this earth. If not for your own sake but for the sake of others. Because people like that never change, you know that from personal experience. Unfortunately for you, your inability to resort to murder is staggering. Also, nobody clearly appreciates your ill-timed humor once again. But this one in on you; you might have sold your performance a bit too well this time around. There needs to be something about your cracking jokes at times most unfitting for laughter.

“I’m joking,” you explain, waving the vials attached to the string like a pendulum. “Those are paralytics.” You stop trying to play a hypnotist and show how exactly to use the tiny glass ampules, snapping the cap from the one full of magnocurarine off and showcasing its jagged edge to your audience. “You snap it like this and then use the sharp edge of the glass to cut your assaulter. This one should be enough to immobilize a grown man.” And then you do the same to the one with tetrodotoxin, hoping that the difference in color would be enough for them to not confuse those. “This one is enough to kill him. I suggest you not use this one unless it’s a life-or-death situation.”

“Nice,” Kohaku says, grinning, and then tuck the ampules under her rather impressive assets. “We can use this against Kirisame and take the petrification device from her discreetly.”

That’s not exactly what you are aiming for here, but it sure is a good idea in case Senku’s drone fails. If anything, it’s even more inconspicuous if you just get her alone. That’s your backup plan for this trip, anyway. You must obtain the petrification device no matter the cost. Even if there is more than one Medusa device on this island, getting your hands on one of them is more than enough to even out the playing field. That’s all what you need, really. From how Amaryllis spoke about her experience with petrification, there has to be some sort of a trigger for the device to activate. You don’t think it’s physical, as Kirisame throws it high in the air, so it must mean she’s giving it some sort of verbal instructions. Or, at the very least, it has a delayed effect, and she presses the activation button before throwing it.

But this also confirms that Medusa can and will petrify anything in the area of effect, even its user. Which means that whatever petrified humanity almost four thousand years ago is immune to petrification, which seems improbable by the simple notion of them proving to not be human. Or, if you speculate just a bit, Why-Man is not on Earth at all, which pretty much also confirms that they aren’t exactly a homo sapiens either. And with how Why-Man managed to hijack your frequency, there is only one place they can be right now for the signal to reach fast enough. The real question is how exactly did this island’s Master get his hands on one of these Medusas. Who brought them here all the way from South America when nobody was advanced enough to survive such challenging journey. You really are dealing with aliens, aren’t you? Damn it.

“Not that I am opposed…” Reina’s doubtful voice returns you back to the land of the living. “But I think this is a bit too much.”

“Right…” Ginro pitches in, uninvited. “What if I cut myself on it and die…”

You don’t even point out how you haven’t given him one for this exact reason. You simply shrug and say, “We’ll use you as a meat shield.”

You hide your own ampules in the empty spaces in your nail guards. The tips of them would be enough to cut through the skin easily, and it’s just discreet enough for nobody to ask any questions. Senku, composed and nonchalant, walks out of the lab and presents Kohaku with an earpiece shaped like an earring. She says something that makes both Gen and Reina forgo their grievances and cackle like a twin hyenas that they are, but you are far too busy smothering Suika in some reassuring goodbye smooches to care about this nonsense.

Soyuz takes you and the three other brides-to-be to the shore first, before returning for the rest of the group. One not-so-tearful ‘see ya, doc’ from Senku later, you take pity on Gen by waving him goodbye and begging him to please behave. No reply follows. You are already too far away to hear anything, chasing after a beauty rat snake trying its damn best to mind its business. This invasive species ruined the ecosystem at this point, the last thing they can do to repay for their crimes is to help you out a little.

The selection itself is not too terrible of an endeavor. Every single girl looks absolutely terrified about her life and you start getting the impression that it’s not because you are whispering sweet nothings into your new friend Hypatia’s nonexistent outer ear. It seems like this event is not really about picking the most beautiful women to compete for the heart of the nation’s most formidable warrior at all. Especially when one of the guards just outright admits the girls are specifically picked out for the Master’s enjoyment. A thing that is not too dramatic, considering the whole of human history, but this looks more like a bunch of lambs lined up for the slaughter than a selection for a couple of concubines.

You get proven right in your suspicions when Kohaku tugs on your dress, pointing up the hill. Slenderman’s far mouthier brother is holding a girl up by the sash of her dress while she’s tearfully and extremely vocally begging him to let her go, reasoning that she just got married. The husband himself is severely injured, praying for his wife’s safety. The notion of this poor girl having a loving family does nothing to influence Ibara’s decision. If anything, he seems far more invested now than he was before. Interesting, considering he is supposed to be the Minister speaking the will of his Master to the common folk.

Amaryllis, despite Reina’s greatest efforts, intervenes. She rushes up the hill, whispering something into the husband’s ear, and he reluctantly concedes to follow with whatever plan Amaryllis has up her missing sleeves. Truly formidable actress, this one, she switches instantly and gets an Ibara-mandated stamp of approval, securing her spot as the chosen bride and saving the poor man’s life at the same time.

“Still think it’s too much?” You ask offhandedly, stroking Hypatia’s head.

It hisses, inflating its neck and rattling its tail as a warning before an upcoming bite. You coo at such endearing display of defensive mimicry. It’s trying its best to appear as threatening as its venomous cousins but fails because the worst thing it can do to you is not a bite. You scared it half to death when you grabbed it, and with musking out of the way, no fangs can scare you.

Reina grinds her teeth. “Not anymore,” she mutters, watching as Hypatia finally takes a good bite out of you. “One of these days you’re going to drop dead.”

You laugh, forcing the snake to unhinge its jaw as gently as possible. “Won’t be the first time.”

Reina looks like she wants to say something, but the conversation is interrupted by the heavy footsteps of the Sexualoffenderman and his way more charismatic posse. You guess that the tall man with a spear is the infamous Moz that Amaryllis warned you about. He does appear to be strong, this much is evident. If not by his glaring physical prowess, then by his laidback personality. One is never this relaxed in the presence of their superior unless they are stupid or confident in their abilities, and it seems like Moz has those in plenty. He is also far more interested in batting his lashes at the girls than conversing with his fellow guards, so that gives away exactly what kind of man Moz is. Good. This means he’s easier than the rest of men. And all men are easy; you established that one a long time ago.

Reina gets a pass almost instantly, which isn’t surprising at all. Kohaku, however, is going through never-seen-before stages of grief just trying to channel that cute yet tad bit rough around the edges Shibuya girl act that Komugi is known for. You can almost see that shrimp-sized brain of Ibara’s work overtime in his head, trying to decide if she is worth his while. Ibara takes so long to decide, actually, you start getting the feeling that he is going to skip her. Fortunately for every single one of you, it seems like the neuron activation wins, and Kohaku’s chest is far more compelling than her sharp personality and he loves it just enough to let her pass. Ibara loves it so much actually, that he unclenches his admittedly massive hand, going all out to cop a feel of Kohaku’s breasts.

You don’t even have the time to lift your hand to stop Kohaku from dismembering the bastard on sight before a spear comes in between the two of them. Moz stares Kohaku down, laidback and easy, smiling all throughout their interaction and throwing her a couple of off-handed compliments. All deserved, of course. Your Kohaku is both cute and strong, and just overall very capable and deserves to be praised more. But you’d expect a bit more passion from a guard who just caught a participant trying to snap his superior’s arm in half. Especially when Moz basically hints that he already can see Kohaku is up to no good.

All you get, however, is a passionate promise to sneak into the inner palace for a quick spar with Kohaku. Which tells you several things: a) Moz is onto you but he cares little to sell you out; b) he doesn’t care about Ibara or the Master, having just flirted with one of the brides; c) Moz has his own agenda, most definitely one that can be exploited. How to exploit that is another thing in and of itself, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. Your turn has come, and you try to ease yourself into your role of a whimsical sorceress.

“I am [Name],” you introduce yourself, running your free hand along the pearls attached to your dress and then give Hypatia’s chin a little scratch. “I like beautiful things and can talk to snakes.”

Ibara hums, clearly thinking your proclamation is rather stupid. But you guess the way you squeeze your arms together to bring attention to your cleavage does wonders speaking in your defense. “And what does it say, [Name]-chan?”

You laugh as if this is the funniest thing that you have ever heard, then you bring Hypatia closer to your ear and let it inflate its neck again for a hiss to ramble through its body. “Ibara-sama is the wisest man. He will make the right choice,” you declare with just the right bit of mystique to your tone. “That is what she said.” You gasp when Hypatia hisses again, which results in a curious look from Ibara and you giggle once more, utterly gleeful over something that never happened. “How scandalous. It seems like my friend here has fallen in love with you, Ibara-sama. Must be fate.”

Ibara, thoroughly pleased by your blatant bootlicking, laughs. “Well then, you pass.”

With Ginro’s turn coming right after you, you almost hope that his greatest efforts to turn Ibara against him will prove fruitful and the resident owner of a white van will take pity on you and decline. This way you definitely will have more control over the situation. None of the girls have the time or the patience to babysit Ginro, so you don’t even want to know why they decided to bring him along. Only as it turns out, you severely underestimated the level of Ibara’s freak as he proceeds to pass Ginro as well, no matter how rough this Gin-chan persona of his is. Which makes you wonder why exactly Ibara was so doubtful with Kohaku, then. Maybe it’s a personal pick… Does Minister Ibara like femboys?

You wrack your brain with this question all the way to the Capitol of this petrification kingdom. Built on the giant tree, it’s just a maze of wooden bridges and tiny huts amidst the shade of the branches, with the biggest one of them all at the very top. You guess that’s where the master is. This place is swarmed with guards, and you don’t even have a lot of time to look around more than that before some stone-world roid rat breaks a statue right in front of you. Kohaku asks to buy her some time for a bit of recon, telling you that she noticed something suspiciously spherical down at the base of the tree.

Amaryllis wastes no time dragging Reina along to lure the brainless brawn into their devious charms, and you remain on the lookout for Kirisame. She’s already descending from the higher levels of the city, and you quickly put on your lost face on, walking past the commotion to meet her halfway. Anxiously twiddling with the pearls on your skirt and searching for something you know you will never find, you lock eyes with Kirisame on what seems like accident. Your face lights up. You know for sure, because you force it to do so, and you smile, partly relieved and partly horrified as you notice that Kirisame recognizes you.

“You are that girl from the shore…” You mutter after a while, a little embarrassment blooming on your face. “What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that it takes some time for you to put all the dots together. Then you gasp, quickly rushing up to Kirisame, and lower your voice to almost an indistinguishable whisper. “Did they take you too?”

“You…” Kirisame says, a mix between the spluttering girl you recognize from the shore and the cold, calculating person she supposedly always is. She steps away from you, tense and guarded. “What do you need?”

You look down on your feet, unsure and lost, twiddling with your thumbs. “I was looking for a familiar face, that’s all,” you answer.

A tad bit shameful, a tad bit scared, you blink up at Kirisame with tears glistening in your eyes. You don’t believe a woman who is so easily flustered about all things romance will decline a girl of some aloof, awkward sort of comfort. Especially when the girl in question just admitted being taken against her will. This is a test as much as it is a way to buy time for Kohaku, of course. How much does Kirisame trust the will of the Master? Is there any other cracks in her façade that you can exploit? There appears to be none.

“Do not fret,” Kirisame says impassively. Although her strong delivery makes it hard to believe she is trying to be reassuring, you guess it’s the best someone so detached and emotionless as Kirisame can muster. “The Master will find a suitable man for you,” she adds when she notices you aren’t entirely convinced. “So you mustn’t slack off from your training.”

You nod, thanking Kirisame for her time and taking this thinly veiled order to leave immediately to do just that. Kirisame seems to have forgotten what she came here for, and you get a lot of useful things out of this brief interaction, so there’s no need for you to overstay your welcome. You smile. Yes, there are no cracks. But there sure is something you can exploit. Kirisame, it appears, has no idea about the true nature of the workings of the inner palace. As implausible as it may sound, her blind trust in the person she’s serving is unshakable. This, however, leads to another revelation. Kirisame is either so brainwashed, she deems evil as inherently good, or there was a time when the selection was indeed about that and somewhere along the way things changed. You really need to ask how Amaryllis knows what the Master looks like.

“Where the hell did you run off to?” Reina is fuming, understandably so.

“To chat with Kirisame,” you say, shrugging. “You don’t need to worry about me so much, if I die then it’s on me.” Then you turn your attention to Kohaku, who is holding something that appears to be a rat on wheels. Great. One step closer to a drone, it looks like, but damn this thing is ugly. “What did you find?”

“It’s there, I’m sure of it,” Kohaku informs, the wind picking up the rustling leaves just in time to mute her next words. “We found platinum.”

You grin, mentally thanking Byakuya for his lifetime of dedication. The capsule itself must have long corroded by now, but there is still a way to preserve something for a very long time, especially in such a safe location like a base of this thousands-year-old tree. All that is left is to break the concrete and get the platinum so Senku can cook up some revival fluid and bring Ryusui back to operate the drone.

That, of course, if you don’t snatch the Medusa from Kirisame before that. As long as you get close enough to her to swindle some information out of her before snatching the device, you can kill two birds with one stone and petrify everyone in the five-hundred-meter radius. This would be enough to take down everyone in one fell swoop. Senku will revive you later, granted everything lines up perfectly.

“Well then, let’s send some rat mail back to base,” you mumble, ripping a page off your memopad and scratching a quick message to Senku. Plaster needed. You tuck the note in between the ratcar’s batteries and cover those with the grey piece of fur. And then you watch as Kohaku sets it onto the ground and it immediately goes tumbling from one level of the bridge to another. You sigh; this motor prototype won’t be enough for the drone to work. The axis of this thing keeps shaking more than you after… Never fucking mind. “Whatever. Go, my ratmobile.”

The next thirty-six hours are uneventful. You spend the nights without a wink of sleep, sitting outside your hut, scribbling in your memopad just to make sure nobody is watching Kohaku as she’s up to nefarious deeds with the Soyuz capsule. Someone does spy on you and it’s definitely not the guards. They’re too busy staring at your tits from such an advantageous angle to notice anything else. But you always spot the rustling coming from the above branches just as you exit the hut and it is definitely not the wind.

If Moz is watching, which you are sure he does, then he finds nothing of value in your actions. Just you scribbling on top of something only sorcery can explain. And even then, it’s mostly Kohaku in her beautiful dress and the array of Reina’s expressions. You even get to draw Kirisame herself, her stoicism is really appealing when translated into paper. The sharpness of her face contrasts well with smooth curves of her silhouette, partially visible under the lightweight fabric of her dress.

You get to talk to her again some more, too. Kirisame is rather elusive on top of being overly busy guarding the Master’s quarters and escapes your grasp right before you can catch her by the claw of your nail guard. That, or you get dragged away on some random etiquette lessons by enraged Reina, who is fairly upset that you are slacking off while they’re being tortured. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t start getting irritating after the third time of her ruining your perfect opportunity with yet another ire-charged call of your name. You’re just doing your damn job here.

You guess it’s fine, it doesn’t seem too suspicious, and you are here for this whole bride training thing. But you are short on time, sticking out like a sore thumb, and Kohaku has already transferred all the platinum to Senku. You really need to hurry the hell up and get into Kirisame’s relatively good graces to share some accidentally important information and lure her out in the open where they can use the drone to snatch the Medusa off of her.

You still think your backup plan has merit. It will not only clear the path for you completely but will also make it easier to search for any other such devices if they do exist hidden somewhere around here. Still, you won’t be straying from the script unless a viable chance for that arises, you did promise Senku to be careful, after all. A tough choice, really. A real gamble right here. And it looks like you aren’t the one presented with life-threatening dilemmas, as you spot Kirisame staring somewhere in between the smaller tree branches.

It’s an early morning; the sun is yet to rise properly. Everyone is barely awake and most definitely searching for the intruders who broke in last night to ransack a big rock at the base of the tree. You are running out of time faster than your year-old iPhone used to run out of battery and it’s time to pick up the speed and start buttering Kirisame up in any way you can. So you ignore any rational part of your brain that tells you to drop it and go back to the girls, opting to go have some fun instead. Come what will, you can be a perfect test subject before they revive Tsukasa. Be what may, you aren’t important enough to grieve you.

Kirisame spots you without even needing to turn around to know who it is that approached her. “You again,” she calls out. “What do you want?”

Not even once does she look away from the habu sprawled on a branch not too far away from a relatively large hollow in the tree. It must be getting ready to return into its hiding spot for the day, although Kirisame’s looming presence does seem to agitate it quite a bit. Not enough to strike just yet, but it knows a threat when it can see one. You do too. You stay at a respectable distance, not yet joining her side. Both not to alert the highly venomous snake further but also because of you need to be careful with Kirisame herself, as well.

“Do you like snakes, Kirisame-chan?” You ask. A nice, neutral conversation starter that is relevant to a current moment. Depending on her response you will either come closer and put your vast knowledge of fun snake facts to use or do a completely one-eighty and start crying about how brave Kirisame is for standing so close to one. Either or, it all begins here.

“I don’t dislike them,” she answers. In the language of someone like Kirisame it means she’s quite a bit partial to them. You take a step closer to her, your shoulder brushing against hers in a fleeting, warm touch. Then you position yourself just a bit out of reach of the habu. It can’t jump, but it will strike with two-thirds of its entire body if threatened. And one meter radius is one hell of a strike range when you have no antivenom at hand. That’s when you notice it’s not really the habu that Kirisame is watching, but another snake altogether. On another branch is hanging an akamata, a Ryukyu odd-tooth snake. Nonvenomous, nonthreatening, just as defensive when provoked. Also a well-known habu eater. You find the irony particularly fascinating. “Do you?”

You blink, a bit taken aback. It’s the first time that Kirisame willingly asked you a question, so there must have been something on your face just now that prompted it. That, or she heard from someone that you came in with a snake here. You had to let Hypatia go, of course, it’s far too aggressive and you don’t have the time to baby a rat snake that doesn’t listen. Pacioli was way cuter than Hypatia, anyway. Maybe Kirisame is testing if you are going to be honest with her, which is a good thing. Works in your favor better than you expected.

“I love them,” you admit. “My mama taught me all about them before she… passed.”

A dramatic pause to choose a proper word and to add a bit of suspense just so you can showcase just how much losing your mother to the stone affects you. It’s not even a lie, either. Your mother knows a thing or two about snakes. It’s probably her admitting to owning a little bullsnake as a teen for a while that pushed you in this direction. It later disappeared under mysterious circumstances after one meeting with then-five-year-old Mashiro, but that’s beside the point. Your mom would have loved it here, really.

You wonder what your mama will think when she sees you again after all these years. No longer her barely eighteen-year-old baby, but the woman she will probably not recognize anymore. The you of today who never gets lost unless it’s intentional. The you of today who religiously documents everything just in case you forget even if you logically know that going to sleep will not erase your memory. This must be quite a jarring dissonance. From her poor, disoriented daughter who is constantly adrift in her own head to whoever the hell you are now. You aren’t really sure what kind of person that is, but you hope it is better one. If not for yourself, then at least for her. Your mother deserves to see her daughter getting married. You aren’t sure how that one will go, but a girl can be delusional once in a while.

You swallow the upcoming tears before they manifest themselves in reality and point to the akamata, “This one isn’t venomous, but it can be spotted eating venomous snakes sometimes.”

“Really?” Kirisame asks you. Rather apprehensively, but she’s holding a proper conversation and that is exactly what you need her to do. And it’s a fair thing to doubt, too. Kirisame doesn’t have a concept of king snakes, and these odd-tooth snakes only eat the small, juvenile habus. It’s not even the primary diet of theirs unlike that of a king cobra so it’s not that much of a surprise that Kirisame isn’t aware of their cannibalistic tendencies. “Snakes can eat other snakes?”

 “Yes. A lot of them,” you confirm, a tangent boiling right at the top of your tongue. There is so much to be said about nonvenomous species consuming their far more dangerous venomous counterparts and how it adds to the beauty of this world. Sometimes even those who are at the bottom of the food chain just like you have the means to subdue their enemy if they so wish. Violently so. You can’t say any of that, however. Neither time nor place, and Kirisame is one dainty finger in your unhinged jaw. All you need to do is to close your mouth and chew in the venom just enough for it to spread through her bloodstream. “Do you want to pet it?”

Kirisame turns to you, evidently at crossroads. The cold sharpness of her face doesn’t give much away, but the tone of her voice when she speaks sells her doubts out. “Will it bite?” Even predators have someone they are afraid of, you know it. It’s nothing more than self-preservation. Curiosity, however, sometimes dulls this sense into nothing but a buzzing noise. You get it, you really do.

You shrug. “Probably. But it will be fine, Kirisame-chan. It’s just a sting and we’ll be all okay.” If akamata bites either of you, it will be an even better outcome, really. Just the distraction you need to quickly scratch Kirisame on the wrist when passing her the snake. “Let me get it off the branch for you.”

A crack. The vial with magnocurarine spills all over the inside of your nail guard, seeping through the crevices and coating its sharp edges all over. You reach out slowly and carefully, just to not spook the akamata and not let it slither away into its hiding spot. The Medusa is almost yours. All you need is to just be vigilant. But aren’t those just famous last words?

An array of loud cheering erupts through the higher levels of the city. Always a cat that is easy to spook, your hand twitches. A sudden, jerky movement that is just not something that you can allow when trying to catch a snake. You feel it before you see it. The sharp, burning sting, far more painful than that of a nonvenomous snake. You severely underestimated the lunge of a habu, it seems like. Today is so not your day. Damn you, Komugi.

Your luck is truly rotten. Habus are dangerous but not deadly. It’s a snake known for giving out dry bites and having only less than two percent historic fatalities, it should be fine even now. The hand you’ve been dealt now is so bad, however, you don’t get the luxury of walking away from this unscathed. It has been a long four thousand years, it seems like. They sure got stronger not only with their venom yield but also with the potency of it. You remember what it’s like to feel the venom spread around your system, this numb sort of tingling creeping up your fingertips. You know how your body responds, too. You know what’s coming next. So what can you do to prevent it?

You can’t suck in the venom. It’s unreasonable and unsafe, your mouth is an open wound of chewed up flesh. You can’t bandage off the affected area either, not only it’s suspicious but it’s also pointless. You don’t have anything wide enough to use. You will have to loosen it due to the swelling in about fifteen minutes, too, and you won’t be able to untie it with one hand, anyway. You aren’t going to involve the girls in this either. You promised Senku to take care of them, not distracting them from the mission because of your own miscalculations. And you did mean what you said. If you die, it’s on you.

Well then, that’s it. The only thing you can do is double the potency of the venom and calculate how much more time you have left before you get internal bleeding and your kidneys fail. A day or two? Or will it be circulatory collapse and respiratory paralysis? If not, you will die from sepsis or necrosis. Splendid. You really are dying from a snake bite that hasn’t had any fatalities since 2004. Just great. At least it would be fun as hell to document. They can call you Karl Patterson Schmidt the way you will turn this unfortunate encounter with the new habu species into your own bite symptoms diary.

“Did it bite you?” Kirisame sounds like her average, stoic self even when concerned. She probably thinks it was an akamata that did it, too. “It’s pointless to try again. It’s gone.”

“Just a scratch,” you deny, opting to question the commotion instead. Well, the moment is lost now. All you can do is some damage control and hope you live long enough for them to get a hold of the Medusa. And if not, well. You’re donating your body to science. “What is happening, Kirisame-chan?”

“I’m not sure…” she mutters, glancing from your bleeding wrist to the loud cheering echoing from the upper levels. “They might have brought back the statues. Now come, you must wash that blood off.”

“Statues…” You repeat the word, following after Kirisame.

The water keeps running red even when your hands are scrubbed raw. And still, you are trying to comprehend what exactly Kirisame’s statement means in relation to the intruders Ibara is searching for. Must be someone from the ship, then. Someone worth their while and someone important enough to use as bait for those pesky intruders. So probably Ryusui, then. Good call, really. Reina can deal with it quickly and knowing Senku the rats are coming to snatch Ryusui’s spare body parts away. That being said, it’s not uncommon to see the guards breaking statues here. One look at the very top of the tree, you can’t help but question what exactly happened for things to change so drastically around here.

“Say, Kirisame-chan, what is the Master like?” It’s a gamble on your part. You are driven by a mere hypothesis based on Kirisame’s blind devotion and you could easily miss the mark. But things just don’t change in one single night like that, there must be something more to it than just a man suddenly turning evil. “My mama said he used to be so kind… but then something happened and it’s as if he became a whole different person.”

Your question makes Kirisame stiffen. “Your mother knew the Master?” She questions apprehensively, suddenly far more hostile than a second ago. “You must be confusing him with another man.” But this reaction of hers just tells you that Kirisame did meet this man before and knows him at least to some extent. At the very least better than Amaryllis does. She operated on speculations, guided by nothing other than the fact that Soyuz seemingly resembles the leader of this nation. Which offers you a massive opportunity to cheat.

“A tall man with large, kind eyes,” you say just as the sunlight emerges from behind a passing cloud, almost blinding you. “I remember him talking to mama. He was a nice man, until he…”

Taking a step closer to the looming trees casting shadows down on the two of you, you spot a flicker of something. You see him then, a little above you on the branches, watching from the shadows. Interesting, also suspicious. Moz is an unpleasant character. Also, a peculiar one. He knows you are lying through your teeth right now yet says nothing. Which must mean you are beneficial to him in some way. He’s been around for a while, it seems like.

The paralytic long since washed away from your nail guard and you will not use the tetrodotoxin even on your death bed. You won’t try apprehending Kirisame in such a violent way, but Moz most likely expects you to. You tried killing her once, why not try again. His way of thinking is simple, but it just adds to his suspicious behavior. Moz wants Kirisame around just as much as he respects Ibara. Which is not a lot. All predators have someone they are afraid of, after all. And it looks like Moz’s greatest fear is Kirisame with a Medusa.

“He must’ve had his reasons,” Kirisame fervently defends her liege with a borderline crazed sort of faith. “Master has always been wise…”

You can manipulate right about everyone if you know where to press. No fancy methods or Gen’s advanced techniques needed. You connect your own loss to Kirisame’s experience with her Master, and her undying devotion for him cannot let this be. You never find out what exactly it is that he did for her to believe in him so blindly, but you learn a lot about the nameless man himself.

Losing his wife and son must have been so terrible for him, he only ever speaks through Ibara these days. A suspicious thing to happen if you take a moment to think about it. Only Kirisame doesn’t. She wholeheartedly believes her master is caring and kind, he never petrifies those who do not deserve it. Neither does he abuse this unique device that he personally entrusted her with through the hand of Ibara.

“There are rules I must follow when using it,” Kirisame argues when she notices you don’t look entirely convinced. It’s probably not really your disbelief, but the fact that she has been on this spiel for hours and the venom is finally getting to you. “He entrusted it to me, so I trust his decisions. You must trust him, too.”

“Thank you, Kirisame-chan,” you say, smiling. She shared a lot of miscellaneous information that means nothing to some, but it is everything to you. Unfortunately, you need to wrap this up before you hit your first wave of nausea right in front of her. The swelling is already a bit too noticeable to be hanging around her, anyway. “I know I’m not the finest company…”

“Nonsense,” Kirisame dismisses you sternly. “I think–”

“Kirisame-kun, I see you’ve made a friend.” Ibara, in his true sexual offender cryptid fashion pops out of nowhere and when you least expect him. Whatever chatty mood Kirisame was just a second ago is now gone but it’s fine with you for now. If only Ibara wouldn’t stare at your damn chest when he addresses you. “Do be kind to inform Gin-chan that the Master wishes to see her at sundown, [Name]-chan.”

“Of course, Ibara-sama,” you reply quickly, bowing. Then you turn to the girl next to you, smiling at her once last time. “Goodbye, Kirisame-chan.” Not a see you. Something tells you it’s better to prepare for the worst.

You find your group, informing them of what exactly transpired with Ibara, omitting the discovering you made along the way and discreetly warning Kohaku about the unexpected visitor hiding in the bushes. Moz is listening and if you are about to die, then you want at least to get a nice pat on the back for being so amazingly stupid. Ginro reluctantly goes to meet up with the master, who you just suspect to be Ibara at that point. And you warn the moron to please be careful and run if things go south.

Reina looks at you like you are the stupid one advising the jumpiest of cowards to run as if it’s not his first response to any situation. You worry about her noticing the compartment syndrome starting to take effect, so you begin bickering over semantics of a fight or flight response. You expect Kohaku to separate the two of you before it gets too heated but turn around and instead see that she’s missing. Everything goes downhill from there.

One second you spot Kohaku all the way up on a higher level, engaging in a rather one-sided fight against Moz and the other Ibara stabs Ginro right through his stomach. It’s a pandemonium, Kohaku confirms your suspicions of the master being a statue and Kirisame drives it all home by throwing the Medusa high enough for it to be safe to the man she admires so much. Yet as rewarding as it all is to be right about things, you don’t really have the time to savor it.

Amaryllis and Reina start running back to the hideout, and you want to say you have it in you to run as well. You do, for a while. But physical activity helps with spreading the venom and your system is going through a little bit of blood clotting right now, so you need to stop. Or more accurately, collapse onto the ground and puke all the bloody contents of your stomach out. And when you’re done you need some time to recuperate and wonder just how the hell habus turned into killing machines in some measly four thousand years. Nature is brilliant, but damn is it absolutely ruthless.

You hope you won’t pass out any time soon. You also in no position to even be attempting to swim, so the best you can do is to get to the shore and hope they find you eventually. Preferably in one piece and not fully decomposed. You’re having a lot of fun right now, but it’s terribly inconvenient to get nibbled on by local wildlife when your goal is to get petrified. You just need to buy some time, anyway. There’s no way Moz would just let this go if he went through the trouble of spying on you. Nothing is worse than a straight man after being rejected by a lesbian. There’s no way he doesn’t show up chasing after you.

You swallow, whipping your mouth with the back of your hand and fight another wave of nausea. “You tried to kill her back then,” Moz’s grainy voice rings in your ears and you lose your fight. Stomach acid and blood don’t make for the best puking session, but it does paint a rather telling picture. “Why didn’t you try again?”

“I’m out of poison,” you lie. “And I am dying, but you already knew that.”

Your lips stick together with the rapidly drying blood and the taste that made home on your tongue just urges you to throw up again. You force yourself to choke down the nausea and talk. This is your free ride back to the base; you just need to play your cards right. What do men like Moz want? As cute as you may be, you aren’t cute enough for a man like him. You are also not particularly visually appealing right now even for the men who might find you attractive. The only other way is to make yourself seem as pathetic as possible and hook his attention with something only the two of you know. Gen will figure out the rest.

“Just like I know you’ve been tailing us since you first spoke to Kohaku,” you say, smiling. It’s not the prettiest sight but it does make your point clear. You have nothing left to lose, so you put all your cards on the table willingly. “You knew we were the intruders all along and you didn’t tell on us. This means–” Your sentence is cut short by a nasty retching session that drags out for far too long. You guess it’s on you. There’s only so much bullshit you can spew before it backfires. “This means you want Ibara dead. Looks like we have a lot in common.”

Moz is not particularly threatened by your revelation even if he does seem intrigued by your dying girl rambling in that detached, condescending sort of way. Moz thinks he’s better than you, so he entertains your nonsense just like a bigger cat allows its baby meow up at it. Too bad Moz is just stupid enough to not realize that’s exactly what you want from him.

Moz quirks his brow, smirking. “As in?”

A foolish question, really. What other reason would you try to allegedly kill Kirisame for? You really are dealing with a moron running on testosterone and a superiority complex. Still, you answer. “As in you want a horde of cute girls at your beck and call and I want the thing that Kirisame has in her pocket.”

Moz laughs at your audacity. “You’re in no place to negotiate with me, [Name]-chan,” he says, pointing at your face. “Or at all, actually.”

A fair thing to bring up, you acknowledge it. Just because you think Moz is a bit slow doesn’t mean he’s not correct sometimes. It’s not like you are negotiating with him, anyway. You’re a sopping wet cat hissing up at a tiger who keeps toying with you by pushing you aside with his massive paw just for you to return the second later. It’s a fine line between audacity and courage and it ends exactly where it begins. With your intentions. And the thing about you and Moz right now is that you are meowing intentionally and he reacts, not having any idea he is being forced to do so. It’s a pity party, and it’s all going according to plan.

“Your friends abandoned you,” Moz says, still looking down on you even with this sort of pitying approach he has going on. “Not really cute of them. Reasonable, but not cute at all.”

You know it’s supposed to be the salt which he’s so ready to rub in your wound, but Moz shoots himself in the foot with this instead. It’s like he wants you to exploit him. But you guess it’s all fair. Both of you are trying to manipulate each other right now and only one of you is succeeding. Understandable, if only a little sad. Moz is not putting in much effort, already expecting to win, and you are going all out just so he won’t send you to your aunt prematurely. You also had Asagiri Gen to defend yourself from. It’s not an easy feat to pull. It’s like fighting for your life in the Chornobyl’s Number Four’s sarcophagus with nothing but a bikini on. Moz, however, is tied to a chair with titanium chains and is opposing you while armed with nothing but a feather. A real hydrogen bomb versus a coughing baby dilemma right here.

“Right? I’m a little mad,” you lie, trying to get up on your feet. Moz watches you struggle and you don’t ask him for help. Instead you find your shaky footing by yourself and rush to elaborate. “Not at them, of course. The man who sent us here, our leader–”

Your breath stutters, little black spots invading your vision and you try your best to force yourself to stay conscious. You have far less time than you initially expected. That’s why you don’t introduce any species to the habitat without thinking. They become invasive and then almost four thousand years later some random girl ends up suffering the consequences of the native species fighting for survival.

“He only cares about results,” you continue according to your script. It’s so very easy, luring in the resident macho man with painting picture of poor, innocent women being exploited by someone other than him. “He treats us as if we’re disposable. I can’t blame them for only caring about themselves. Whatever helps you survive is your friend.” Funny that you straight up insult Moz to his face and he still doesn’t get it. Probably because you start crying. “It’s just so unfair… Why must I die alone for someone else’s desires?”

Through the haze you watch Moz’s eyes light up. “Say, [Name]-chan…” He begins, taking a couple of steps closer to you. He knows you won’t try escaping, you can’t. But it looks like you sound just desperate enough for Moz to finally catch the bait. It took a lot of self-restraint to get there, but you can’t celebrate just yet. “You give me their location, and I show them the proper way to treat cute girls like you.”

“I can’t possibly…” You deny weakly, waving your bloodied palm around until you lose balance and tumble to the ground once more. “I’m not–”

“Think about it,” Moz interrupts you, squatting down next to you and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You can’t be saved but I sure can avenge your honor.”

Hook, line, sinker. The rest is up to Gen, he will spin things to your advantage even if he will complain about getting him involved in another life-or-death situation. You try your best not to laugh when you tearfully make Moz promise to make it hurt. All it takes is believing he sets the stakes and Moz is already doing your bidding. Men are so damn easy that it’s stupid. But damn it, dying without resolving your issues with Asagiri Gen is one hell of an avoidance tactic.

You can’t even celebrate your win properly because you do black out somewhere around the time Moz throws you into the boat. And when you do come to, he is laughing about his sudden change of plans and how you won’t be dying alone at the very least. Moz calls your friends wasteful when it comes to precious merchandise. Nobody finds him particularly hilarious.

When Moz leaves you try your best to brief Senku on what exactly happened with Kirisame behind the scenes without slurring your words too much. And although it seems like they already figured the missing master out, the notion of Soyuz being related to the master in some sort of way is new. So is the idea of there being only one petrification device here or that it is forbidden to use it over a vast area or a large number of people at the same time. There must be something more to it, you are more than sure. But you didn’t have time to get any more information out of Kirisame and you apologize for wasting everyone’s time.

Then you jokingly say that it’s nothing but a work accident and you are entitled to financial compensation by your employer who is yet to pay your minimum living wage even once. Your body is a scientific goldmine now and Senku should treat it accordingly when the need arises. As per usual your joke doesn’t land, even if you are being ten billion percent serious. You don’t voice it aloud, but both you and Senku are aware that you will definitely kick the bucket before they acquire the Medusa. The most logical outcome would be using it to your advantage, so it’s only natural to try its alleged resurrection properties out on the nearest corpse instead of leaving Reina biting her nails over Tsukasa.

When you finish your sentence, the look that Senku sends you rips what little air you have in your lungs with just how intense it is. He is outright glaring at you, something inexplicable flickering in the red of his iris. It’s so unsettling, it would have made you flinch if you didn’t think that Senku is just mad at himself again. It’s not about you. It’s never about you. You aren’t that delusional as to think that it is. Senku is losing yet another friend to nothing but unfortunate circumstances and once again the whole ordeal is being turned into a joke by them.

Unable to laugh the underlying issue off and not wanting to agitate him any further, you shakily reach out to squeeze his shoulder in what you hope is a comforting gesture. Senku is rigid under your touch, still staring you down unblinkingly with the muscles of his jaw straining and his fists clenched tightly by his sides. You guess he is trying to figure out how to go about this but can’t find a viable, promising solution. There are only two ways this can go and both of them include you dying. It just depends on how permanent this death will be.

Downcast eyes, you quietly apologize for being such a bother even if it sounds ridiculous in the grand scheme of things. So much for trying to be of help and not adding burden to Senku’s already loaded plate. And the last thing you want is to get scolded right now, even if you do deserve it. Grinding his teeth, Senku finds no other choice but to move forward. Against your better judgement, you allow yourself to hope you can live long enough to smooth that crease in between his eyebrows.

“Accidents happen. You did well,” Senku mutters unexpectedly, giving you generous head pat. It hurts. You never back away because it just may be the last time and you don’t want it to be. “How long you got left, doc?” He asks then, getting straight to the point. Amaryllis calls him unsensitive. Reina mumbles something about efficiency. You appreciate the no-nonsense attitude, although you understand that it’s not as easy for Senku to be so nonchalant as he appears to be right now. Senku ignores all the unsolicited comments, adding, “Hard, cold estimates only.”

“Two days at best,” you admit simply, trying your hardest not to choke on the viscous saliva pooling in your mouth. Senku is yet to remove his hand from the back of your head, either. You guess he’s doubting your’s muscles’ ability to support you right now. Makes sense, you don’t think you’d be able to break your neck to look up at him for so long without outside help. “Maybe even less, depending on how fast the venom is spreading. Can’t think straight right now, I’m sorry.”

Senku nods, waving his free hand to point to somewhere and you once again need to fight the urge to puke. “We can’t exactly freeze you, so you gotta hold on for as long as you can,” he states the obvious.

For a second you feel weightless, despite the immense aches of around five on the [Name] pain scale wrecking through your arm. It’s been around fifteen hours since the bite, it will only get worse as the venom spreads and your organs start getting affected. Your back hits something and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to not yelp. You can hear someone yelling something about being more careful. You can’t recognize the voice at all, it’s just the melodic ringing in your ears. Maybe you don’t have these two days at all. You hope they don’t mind working next to a decomposing body, then. The glowing blue ceiling of the cave is spinning. So does Senku when he pops up in your vision again.

“You trust me, right?” He asks, holding one of the extra ampules with the magnocurarine. You feel like you’ve had this exact conversation before. You don’t know how you are supposed to come to terms with never having any conversations with him again. Good thing you trust Ishigami Senku with your life, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to look at him right now.

“Stupid question,” you whisper, your mouth dry and arms shaking as you slot the vial into your empty nail guard. “Stop wasting time on me and get back to work already.”

Senku nods again, “See you later, then.”

He leaves before hearing your reply. You listen to his fading footsteps without saying anything else. You don’t want to say goodbye, and you can’t promise to see Senku later. For a brief moment you wonder where Gen is. If he once again ran away the second things got too complicated with you. Not that you want to see Gen right now. You’re still mad. He’ll just be spinning, too, and you don’t want to puke again. You don’t even look alive enough for a proper conversation, anyway. Just your luck, really. Or maybe it’s your double standards. But you can’t blame Gen for not wanting to see you, either. It’s all fair. Familiar, too. It’s not your first rodeo of dying with Gen’s back turned to you, is it?

Fade in and fade out. You blink yourself awake. Not a lot of people want to watch others flicker in and out of existence like this. Still, you are glad to whoever it is beside you right now. Your best guess is Yuzuriha, judging by the callouses on her fingertips from all the statues she reconstructed as she gently cleans up the blood off your face.

Yuzuriha tries to bandage your hand, too, apologizing every single time your face twitches involuntary whenever she grazes the wound. You still thank her for her efforts even if you deem them pointless. She must have taken Moz’s throwaway comment about your not dying alone to heart, as she still remains next to you, stroking your uninjured hand. You won’t ever tell Yuzuriha that it hurts, so you go into a delirious rant about invasive species while you still can talk with relative ease.

Despite the topic being boring, she listens. Yuzuriha always listens, and you think she understands that those are just your roundabout attempts of explaining what exactly transpired. It’s just how things are sometimes. Your father is not here but you still need to prove something to him, anyway. Fade in and fade out again. So you talk. All about how some invasive species such as beauty rat snakes destroy the ecosystem by outeating the natives out of their primary diets. How it forces the endemic species to go extinct or aim higher on the food chain. This results in snakes starting to hunt birds instead of rats and mice, which leads to them developing bigger venom glands and more potent toxins to subdue larger prey. It’s nature. Fade in and fade out again. You wonder if akamatas have now become proper king snakes, too. You will find out later.

A crack. You don’t think you can sit still through a seven out of ten on the [Name] scale just yet. But just because you can’t move doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt. Fade in and fade out again. The blue of the ceiling keeps flickering. Or maybe it’s just you who keeps losing consciousness. Fade in and fade out again. Low muttering of voices is just one big wall of rustling waves. It comes and goes, all at once and then none at all. You want to know what they’re talking about but can’t focus on anything other than your own slowing heartbeat. Fade in and fade out again.

You can’t tell how long it has been since you returned here, neither can you recall feeling like that before. Cytotoxins do work differently from neurotoxins. It hurts more. It’s a far less wondrous of experience than choking to death but not any less entertaining. Fade in and fade out again. You hope Mashiro won’t be mad at you if you don’t make it out alive. And if that’s where it all ends, then you hope Gen comes to his senses. You want him to use your death as a leverage against Hyoga at some point, so he better get over himself. Nothing is more gratifying than proving a pathetic man wrong. Fade in and fade out again.

Yuzuriha shuffles next to you, leaning down over your face for some reason. “Senku-kun, her breathing is slowing,” she calls out.

“That happens when you fall asleep,” Senku responds from somewhere far away.

“Right,” Yuzuriha chokes out but you can hear her smiling, strained. “Asleep.”

Faint, skittish footsteps are almost inaudible. “How about an ittle-lay bedtime story, [Name]-chan?” Gen asks, his trembling voice making it sound like he’s still battling the urge to disappear. You are numb, so you can’t scoff at his cowardice in times of crisis. But you still can feel his touch as he runs his thumb along the edge of the crack near your mouth. Pins and needles, you want to scream at him to get away. You can’t move a muscle. “I know exactly what you want to hear.”

Does he now?

Fade in and–

10k words. dumping this and running away icl atp

[kii-nami]

i love codex so much i hope im not the only one telling you

thank you!! i’m extremely honored you have fun reading it <3333

[kii-nami]

hi, there is absolutely no way you're an "incompetent" writer in my and many other's books. i hope you don't beat yourself over thinking that too much because i mean this with all my heart that your fics-- your writings --have gotten me through so many tough times. theyve impacted me a lot in ways that the words "good" or "amazing" cant possibly describe. you can tell really wonderful stories, no matter the fandom. the love you put in always shines through, and i promise you we readers can see the effort seeping in through your fics. i hope you don't forget that :)

hii!! sorry for replying so late. i’m glad you enjoy the stuff i write, i really do!! but i also know it’s not particularly anything to write home about (which is okay!!) bleach is an extremely hard universe to write for, though. i don’t think i am capable of creating ocs interesting enough to fit in the narrative or themes. and let’s be real, have you been on the bleach x reader tag? it’s worse than dcst one. not only dead but also just jjk smut slop crossover all around 😭

[kii-nami]

CONTENTS: VOLUME 19: ON GREEN LIGHT, DRAMATIC PLAYS, AND DISAPPOINTMENTS

You never end up talking to Gen about what happened. Actually, you don’t talk at all. The Perceus reaches the rocky shores of the new land and neither of you says a word to each other, pretending like nothing happened. Gen is fine with never outright communicating outside of hanakotoba, the directions given to you through leading questions, and veiled statements you are meant to figure out way too late. You are as stubborn and hardheaded as they go, don’t want to be the one to extend the olive branch. As fun as your usual back and forth is, you are getting tired of it, and you’d rather focus on work. There’s a lot of it handed to you, anyway.

True to your suspicion, the supposed treasure island does end up being near the Okinawa Prefecture. Not only that, but your hypothesis about the islands being inhabited also turns out to be correct. You hit too close to the mark, even, as one if the island’s residents is hiding right under your nose. He’s been in Ishigami village since the beginning, actually. But you really can’t blame anyone for not noticing.

For the lack of better words, Soyuz is an odd character. He remembers things from as far back as his infancy and the whole hammer and sickle thing he has going on is a little off-putting for you. Your raging jealousy over his photographic memory and innate distaste for all things USSR aside, Soyuz is also just a sweetheart. He’s as naïve and honest as they get, and you go out of your way to explain to Gen, albeit rather passive-aggressively, that this is exactly what being purehearted means. He doesn’t particularly appreciate being called out like that, as he clenches his jaw. It’s barely visible but it’s there and you count it as getting on his nerves just right.

Senku gives the two of you a warning look and you bite your lip, muttering a hushed apology under your breath almost immediately. Work before all and you need to keep things civil, so you shouldn’t be instigating anything. Gen himself raises his hands in the air in mock surrender, laughing and saying something about you two never arguing. Then he assures Senku that he has nothing to worry about. As his revenge, however, Gen goes to whisper something into Kohaku’s ear right before your group boards the motorboat. Whatever it is that Gen says must be so mind-blowing, she is vibrating the whole way through climbing up the rocky hill.

You decide to divide the crew, with half of you setting off to explore the island and another half staying back just in case something happens and Kohaku isn’t enough of a brute force to rescue your brainiac team. Admittedly, most of you here are not exactly the peak of athletic performance, so Kohaku’s hyper behavior does help to shorten the climb tremendously and at some point she just ends up carrying all of you on her back all the way up. You are not complaining, and neither does anyone else, really. Unfortunately for everyone involved, granted you and Senku’s rotten luck, your celebrating prematurely results into another reality check.

Kohaku glances back at the sea, swearing she saw some sort of glow flashing back on the ship. To everyone’s surprise, Reina anxiously shuffles around, backing your friend up by explaining that she too, thinks she saw something light up for a split second. Senku assures them that everything is most probably just a trick of light reflecting off the treetops but still orders Gen to make a phone call just in case. Nobody picks up and Gen chuckles lightheartedly knocking his knuckles over the phone, muttering how bad the signal is.

You know a deflection when you see one, you also know Ukyo would pick up the phone no matter what, if just to pass you a quick Morse code message in case of some unforeseen circumstances. Unsettled by the implications behind everyone going radio silent, you suggest that someone should climb higher up the hill for a better signal just to make sure everyone on the Perseus is fine. Gen, Reina, and Soyuz run off with this tense sort of urgency, and you try your best not to overthink this, but it’s a really hard feat to pull for someone like you. A flash of light combined with a foreboding silence doesn’t exactly make for the most pleasant of outcomes.

You could be wrong, of course, and it might be nothing but a bad signal, but it’s obvious you aren’t the only one who thinks something is terribly wrong. The timing is just too perfect and there are rarely coincidences happening with things like these. Despite knowing that, Senku doesn’t bring anything up even when he realizes that you share the exact same thought and taps quick dots and dashes with his fingers, telling you that you should remain quiet just in case someone is listening. You concede, understandably so. It’s not really the best thing to talk about something so important amidst the enemy lines, and you nod, rushing to catch up with Kohaku who has been chasing some invisible clues this whole time.

Kohaku is pointing to some seashells scattered around the area when you hear Gen’s frantic, utterly devastated call. Reina’s face is a blank canvas of all-encompassing void and it’s a regrettably familiar sight. It takes a lot for you to admit pain, but sometimes it hurts so bad, it feels like your tear ducts are filled with fluoroantimonic acid. You are melting right from the inside, yet no tears come out. No alarms and no surprises, it dawns on you like the light of the new day. Every single person on the Perseus has been petrified.

You thought you’ve seen Senku truly angry before, but it seems like that was just a little sample test of what exactly it feels like to be swept as a collateral by the intensity of his hatred. It goes away in a flash, however. It’s gone right when he catches you looking at him, and Senku swallows harshly, erasing whatever emotions slipped through when he thought nobody was watching. You take a cautious step closer to Reina, hoping to offer some sort of comfort but get no chance to. She clenches her jaw and shakes her head, as if wiping away all the fear she’s going through right now.

You know this to be a lie. No grief can just melt away in a split second, but that moment is just enough to bury it under some raging sea waves. You two lock eyes and your face softens. Reina nods shakily, as if promising that she’s fine for now. You know she’s lying, but you let it go for now and promise to talk about this later. Then the two of you move in sync to tackle Kohaku onto the ground before she tears the rope Gen tied himself to her with just so she won’t escape.

Kohaku is reasonably enraged by Gen’s stopping her from rescuing the crew, but all four of you twenty-first century people understand that it’s not exactly the best idea to rush headfirst under the green light. Fortunately for you, Soyuz interjects right before things get heated, admitting that seeing the petrification beam triggered some repressed memory in him. Apparently, he and his mother were running away from some inexplicable green light when he was just a baby. Soyuz apologizes for not remembering any more than that, but it’s already enough for Senku, who announces that the next course of action in the battle against the newfound enemy will be finding a friendly face who’s been wondering this close to the coastline.

While everyone is reasonably invested into the fleeting fun of forensic investigation Senku began partially for the sake of diverting attention from the terrible hand you have been dealt just now, you lag behind, trying to piece the new information together. Not only this proves that there is a petrification device on this island, but Soyuz’s claims also confirm that it has been here for at least twenty years. Whoever is using it either cannot be petrified or knows the secret of how to stay out of the light’s radius. But there’s something that you can’t put your mind to. Some things just don’t add up here no matter how you spin them.

The initial petrification event has its epicenter somewhere in South America, speculatively of course, and it engulfed the whole of Earth, leaving no survivors. So how the hell are you still standing, flesh and bone, in the middle of one of Ryukyu Islands, while some of your friends turned into stone. It’s a long way from the Americas but it’s a way smaller radius of effect. Whoever it may be in the possession of the petrification device here, they are not Why-Man. With how eager Why-Man was to contact you just to inquire of a puzzling circumstance of your existence, they wouldn’t have been wasting time keeping you unpetrified just to play mind games.

The girl you manage to coax into helping you, Amaryllis, proves your hypothesis right. As much as watching her get three love confessions at the same time is exciting for you, Kohaku, and admittedly livelier Reina, at the end you end up disappointed. It’s more of a primal sort of fear than disenchantment, really. Amaryllis rejects every single man fawning over her because she is to be picked as one of the brides for the inner palace and reminds her suitors just what exactly happens when one goes against their master. Everything goes downhill from there.

Amaryllis, as charming and beautiful as she presents herself to be, is also fake as all hell and throws herself at Soyuz the second she spots him. You sort of understand the whole master thing, you too are a bit of a freak, but you guess Amaryllis has more hidden agenda than just badly hidden sexual preferences. Soyuz is far too pure of a soul and gets caught in her web of lies almost as easily as he breathes. Fortunately for all of you, Kohaku saves him from short circuiting by admitting that he’s actually just some guy. Definitely not the island’s ruler whom Amaryllis is apparently in love with.

The offhanded mention Amaryllis throws about Soyuz having an uncanny resemblance to this Master of hers does not go unnoticed by you, although you don’t exactly know where to put it. All you can do right now is save this information for later watch Amarylis repeat the exact same ministrations with Senku. As per usual with things like this, Senku is not impressed even in the slightest. Gen, however, has zero issues volunteering for a sweet embrace of a foreign beauty. Unfortunately for all of you, but luckily for Amaryllis herself, she is smart enough to sense Gen’s sleazy intentions by his grin alone and literally backs away with such a disgusted look, one might think she encountered the face of all evil incarnate.

Reina gasps, utterly shell-shocked by Gen’s sudden behavior and you run your tongue over your teeth, trying to keep a straight face. You want to say Gen is not petty enough to be doing this out of spite because of your argument, and it’s all just work for him, but you can’t be sure. Asagiri Gen is as petty as he is meddling. You won’t hold it past him to try killing two birds with one stone to both do his job and try to get a rise out of you.

Unluckily, Gen manages to achieve neither of those things. His ministrations in trying to capitalize on Amaryllis’ supposed obsession with the elusive leader of her nation lead nowhere and you, to your own horror, feel absolutely nothing over his blatant affections for another woman. Still, some sour taste remains clinging to your tongue even after you do your best to swallow it. What’s the point in trying to make you jealous if he was the one to allow you to look the other way? You are a hypocrite but not to such an extent as to think he owes you something that you can’t offer him in return.

Kohaku, however, takes full offense at Gen’s heartfelt praises of other women, and she decides to fight for your honor by quite literally threatening to break every single bone in Gen’s body with one embrace from her. Reina joins in, appalled by such brazen behavior coming from Gen, slapping him on the back of the head with her shoe. As flattered as you are that your friends love you enough to beat a man up for you, and as much as you will most definitely non-lethally poison Ryusui or Komugi to avenge them, now is not the time for this. Especially not when there seems to be a literal riot going on.

One use of stone world tear gas later, Amaryllis admits just what she’s really after. And with that she promises to share the secret of petrification that only she knows, but only in exchange for helping her free the island from the tyranny of its master. It’s exciting to finally confirm that it’s not really an entity that petrified humanity all those years ago, but only a device. One that has seemingly existed on this island for way longer than you initially estimated and the one that abides by certain patterns. And as Senku so eloquently points out, anything that follows the rules can be studied by science. And thus, it can be conquered by you. And by obtaining this Medusa for yourself, you might finally do the unthinkable. Reviving people from the dead.

There is a lot of work that goes into stealing it from the enemy’s hands, however. Being just pretty won’t help Amaryllis to survive in the inner palace, much less to rob the one in the possession of the petrification device. Especially not if this Kirisame girl, who wields the devise under the orders of the leader, is as strong as Amaryllis paints her to be. Cunning and observant people exist everywhere. Sometimes ethereal beauty is not enough to trick them into believing you. Neither can you survive on outstanding strength alone, as well. And mediocre minds do very little when you force them into overdrive. So do the brilliant ones when you force yourself to go numb just to drift along to see another day. It seems like it can’t be just Kohaku alone. The three of you must band together to aid Amaryllis for this one. Not really for the sake of humanity but to bring back your friends.

It looks like Reina understands this too. “We’ll just go together, then,” she says, gaze flicking from you to Kohaku and then back to Amaryllis. “The four of us.”

Gen sucks in a choked breath and then coughs all the air he inhaled after it goes down the wrong pipe, covering his face with the lilac if his sleeve. “Isn’t it just a splendid idea, Reina-chan,” he exclaims excitedly, clapping his hands and not-so-discreetly glancing your way. “Let’s divide and conquer.”

It almost seems like Gen is being sarcastic, but it doesn’t translate well when it’s so hard to figure him out. If he’s eager to get rid of you to let your argument die down, then he’s not doing the best of jobs right now by agitating the vigilant cat-guards sitting by your sides. Crisis aside, Kohaku and Reina found a new scapegoat in the form of a conniving mentalist, and Gen should be very careful with anything he does right now. Their protectiveness is quite endearing, but you still think it isn’t particularly necessary. There’s no need to fight for your honor when you can do it well enough yourself.

Neither can you blame Gen for the cheeky sarcasm if there was any. You may have shitty communication, but at least Gen knows you well enough to worry about the mission first and foremost. You don’t want to endanger other people by being careless and letting your mind wander off on accident, but right now you don’t particularly have a choice in the matter. You need not only all the beautiful girl charms, but also the collective power of at least one functioning braincell and all the physical prowess available at your disposal.

“Reina’s ten billion percent correct, mentalist,” Senku says, sparing you the need to go on any unnecessary tangents about your mental deviancy. As pragmatic as always, Senku knows when taking risks in a necessity. Only then Senku looks at you, completely disregarding any subtlety. “You’ll take care of them, right, doc?”

You nod, dismissing the way you can feel your neck heat up. “Naturally. Over my dead body and all that jazz.” Senku gives you an odd look that you can’t quite comprehend, but he’s quick to shrug it off, as if further proving his point. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, tugging on it with your teeth. “Not that you need to worry about stuff like that, of course. I’ll keep them safe.”

“Eally-ray now?” Gen exclaims, a tad bit taken aback by your words. Still, he is quick to cover for the awkward tension your answer created. “Let’s not talk about dying, [Name]-chan. Now’s eally-ray not the right time,” he mumbles, the first ever sentence he addresses you since after your argument. Reina huffs, scooting closer behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder in some form of a prison hug that she clearly learned from Kohaku. Not that you are complaining, of course. Noticing your friend’s disdain, Gen points at the lioness in question, who is quite literally snaring at him like an angry wild cat that she is. You guess Gen really is one careless look from getting his head chewed off. “There’s a lot of ard-hay work to be done. Kohaku-chan isn’t cute at all.”

You blink, trying to comprehend just what exactly Gen said. The sheer audacity he has insulting Kohaku’s appearance like that right after stuffing sugary nonsense down Amaryllis’ throat is rather astounding. You don’t even care if you understand what exactly Gen means by that. Kohaku may not be the softest girl around these parts but even a blind man can tell just how beautiful she is.

Gen, as a man and moreover someone you are somewhat involved in, doesn’t just get to hide behind you while badmouthing your friends. Does he think you will let this shit slide, especially now when you are in the middle of an argument that neither of you clearly wants to talk about? If you lunge at him with everything you have, then nobody can either confirm or deny it. You admittedly aren’t in possession of much muscle mass, but it’s enough for someone so physically challenged as Gen to topple over from the sheer brute velocity of that slap that you haven’t given him.

Senku snorts when Gen’s body hits the ground and you send him a warning look. Ishigami Senku should know better than to butt in when you are one foot into your father’s skin. He knows exactly what may or may not have happened to Kokuyo that day, he doesn’t want to be next. Senku lifts his hands in mock surrender, and you roll your eyes. Yeah, you thought so.

“I will feed your dick to stray dogs while it’s still attached to you if you open that wretched mouth of yours again, Asagiri Gen.” You don’t want to look at him right now, so you can’t see exactly how he reacts, but by the way Gen starts spluttering apologies to Kohaku it’s evident he took your words to heart. Then you sigh, dusting some invisible grime off of your clothes, and then admit that there’s one thing that Gen got right. There’s a lot of work to be done. “But yes, if we want to look extra beautiful, we’ll need makeup.”

Senku grins, knowing exactly what you mean. “Let’s get the lab back, then.”

You end up taking a little detour down to the rocky shoreline, feeling a tad bit guilty climbing down a literal mountain in Amaryllis’ beautiful dresses that she was kind enough to lend you three. You must admit she has some to-die-for wardrobe, but most of it is impractical if you do have to make a run for it. You don’t even mention climbing. Knowing how hard it will be for you and the girls, you still urge everyone to descend as close as possible to the sea.

Amaryllis seems reasonably unsure about your suggestion, but Reina tells her to just let it go even if she, herself, doesn’t particularly understand what you’re trying to do. You don’t bother in going in too much detail, just tell them you will be looking for someone. It’s just a gut feeling and a bit of putting too much trust in the friends you made during the apocalypse, anyway. Your whole plan is quite literally dangling on the assumption that Suika is as brilliant as always and escapes before the beam hits her. Or that Ryusui proves himself to be perfect once more and discovers Suika just in time to save at least her. Either or, she is all that you need to get the lab car back to you, anyway.

Fortunately for you, Senku doesn’t protest for once, neither does he argue observing from the higher vantage point. Gen is his usual content yet contemplative self as well, silently observing what is happening in front of him. You guess they trust your plan, even if you just basically hit them with ‘trust me, bro’ and Kohaku backed you up because she is the bro in question. It’s literally just trust-the-process type of bullshit you don’t have the time to explain, or they start trying to look for way more logical ways to go about it. Unfortunately for them, you don’t really have the time for this right now. Not when this unprecedented human-esque phenomenon, this unheard-of gangly freak of nature by the name of Ibara is breaking statues left and right just to rob the Perseus off its priceless goods.

“Do you see Suika anywhere?” You ask Kohaku, and she shakes her head in disagreement, tense and ready to pounce just to rip minister Ibara to shreds.

You tug on Kohaku’s wrist to remind her that you do have a plan, and she needs to trust you. Fortunately for everyone involved, Kohaku loves women way more than she can ever believe in a man, so she grinds her teeth and continues looking for what you asked her to. Amaryllis asks why you are looking for watermelons, and you can hear Reina explaining who Suika is. This must be quite strange thing to experience for an outsider. Amaryllis must be going through the motions right now. It isn’t for the weak of heart to hear that your best bet at winning a war against some guy with an equivalent of a nuclear bomb that spits manchineel tree sap for no reason other than just because is a little girl wearing a watermelon helmet. You know that. But damn do you love that child with everything that you’ve got.

“No, but there’s something in one of the barrels…” Kohaku answers, her whole body shifting forwards as she’s trying to force herself to focus harder. You know that all your lucky picks have been turned into stone, so all that is mid-tier helpful at best or God-tier Suika. But even if it’s Kinro, he will do his best to help you out. Unless, of course, it’s his dimwit of a brother. Then you are, for the lack of better words, cooked. You are in no position to be grieving things that haven’t happened yet, so you erase this thought from your mind entirely. Just in time too, as Kohaku growls, throwing the binoculars away. “I will rip him apart limb from limb, [Name]. Just let me–”

With the way Kohaku jerks forward, you are ready to jump into the water after her, be what may. But then she stills, eerily motionless, and you collide with her back, locking her in place by gripping her shoulders. If Kohaku wants to jump, then she will have to carry your dead body bridal style right back to shore. Luckily, Kohaku seems to have found reason and decided to not endanger herself by any rushed decisions. You think so, until she taps on your thigh discreetly. You notice it then, there’s a shadow looming over you. An uninvited guest of great caliber, the figure jumps down from the top of the cliff, landing next to you with such grace which you can’t help but envy. Or you would have, if it weren’t for the fact that this person is probably after your heads right now, judging by how Amaryllis tenses up all of a sudden.

Well then, you guess it’s time for another performance to make your life more interesting. If Suika is here, then she will understand that the message is crafted just for her, and if it’s someone else that managed to escape the clutches of the stone world Slenderman, then they will get it anyway.

“No, Kohaku, please don’t do this,” you wail, clutching your friend closer to you with a trembling grip. The sheer volume of your voice is so deafening, it cracks halfway through. Works in your favor, too, as you force yourself to cry. “It’s just so unfair. I only asked for an emerald, Kohaku! Don’t I deserve an emerald ring?”

As if finally catching onto what exactly you are saying, Kohaku shudders, realizing that you aren’t really lamenting not getting any emeralds but yelling Suika’s birth name. Maybe Senku was right to an extent, you do know a thing or two about the Hundred Tales. Suika may have never admitted it to you outright, but with her favorite story being about a cat with the same name as her is very telling. It doesn’t take much to connect the dots with a little help of some cold, hard logic.

Tale Forty-nine, the weakest one in Suika’s opinion, is about a girl named Suigyoku, who is forced to marry a man she doesn’t like. It teaches girls about importance of choosing to marry for love, and only those men who are good for them. Ironic, considering the priestesses passing these tales on have no saying in things like these. But dramatic irony aside, Suigyoku is close enough to Suika to retain some sentimental value but just distinct enough for it to never hurt again. You hope she won’t hate you too much for bringing it up in a time of crisis, but you will make sure to apologize for it later, anyway.

 Clenched fists, Kohaku turns around to look at you and grasps your hands in hers. “Of course, you do! Emeralds are the best.” Kohaku yells back, just as intensely. “That bastard needs to treat you better before another man snatches you off your feet.” Kohaku… Too on the nose here, dear, but sure. Your lips tremble, as you look over your shoulder at where Kirisame is standing, beside herself with the suffocating awkwardness yet still on edge. Most definitely because Kohaku is glaring daggers at her. Or at Gen, standing a little farther behind Kirisame. Either, or. You can never be sure with Kohaku. “Do you not love her, Senku? Is that it?” She screams, enraged and now it’s your turn to turn as stiff as a board. Apparently, it’s not even Gen at all who she was glaring at. Damn it.

 “Kohaku…” Senku sucks in a breath, one wrong move away from jumping straight into the ocean. “What’s your deal today?”

“What’s your deal, Senku-chan? Being so cheap over an engagement ring, of all things, is just azy-cray,” Gen chimes in, a disappointed shake of his head added to the mix. Good to know that Gen has his priorities straight at least for the time being, but damn it, does he ever quit with this match-making thing? Cleary not, because the mentalist then skips over to Kirisame, a coy hand on her shoulder as he points at you. “Don’t you think so, dear miss?”

Contrary to how she was just only a moment ago, Kirisame almost jumps out of her skin, eyes darting from you, who is still cradled in Kohaku’s strong embrace, to Gen who is watching her expectantly. From Soyuz, who has zero clue what’s going on, to Reina who is just happy to be alive at this point. From Senku’s unimpressed, borderline resigned expression and back to you and Kohaku, who is still trying to drill holes in his admittedly not suited for such frivolities body. Reina is right. Wherever you go, somehow there is always a situation so traumatically peculiar, one might just never recover from it. Maybe you aren’t really that much of a second lead, but more of a comedic relief sort of character that somehow gained herself a niche yet cult following, after all.

“I guess so…” Kirisame mutters a little hesitantly, her hand fidgeting with one of her locks as if to calm herself. “Not romantic at all…”

“Zero shame,” Reina agrees, glaring daggers at Gen before turning to scowl at Senku, who is at the precipice of abandoning his quest of restoring humanity to just ending it all in the ocean waves. “You’re soiling her honor with your cheap handouts. Does [Name] mean so little to you?”

You must admit that it is sort of funny to see Reina participating in your farce at last, but you really need to get back on track. Getting Kirisame off your trail is nice and all, but if Suika isn’t there to receive your previous message, then you need to resort to the big guns. Dots and dashes, you blink in odd intervals, pretending to calm another wave of upcoming tears just to make sure the next line Senku feeds you is exactly what you need. Byakuya’s tales always end up saving you somehow. Be it with Suika’s real name hidden in her least favorite story, or the quick spells only a sly fox and a cunning cat understand, albeit interpreted a tad bit different.

Senku catches on, no doubt he does, as the next thing he does is sticking his finger in his ear and ask a rather tone-deaf question. “What the hell do you people want from me?” He asks, deadpan and disinterested. “Do you think I’m a sorcerer or something?”

It takes a lot for you not to laugh. It takes even more to untangle yourself from Kohaku and frantically scramble to your feet, hoping you are putting up a good act of being consumed with rage and not just on the brink of hysterical laughter over a joke only the initiated will understand. Still, you stride up to him, bracing yourself for another screaming fit.

“I want the damn emerald you’re hiding in that stupid boat of yours,” you yell, gripping the collar of Senku’s tunic. “What do you call it, again? The lab?” You question fervently, making a tad bit too noticeable of an emphasis on the modern word. Senku allows you to shake him as a ragdoll, weakly punching his chest with your balled up fists while sobbing your crocodile tears, too. He looks like he’s up to about anything, if only to get this over with faster, so you turn up your volume for the next one even more. “The lab, really? What kind of name even is that? The lab.” You laugh, humorless and defected. Then you sniffle, quickly, hopefully conspicuously glancing Kirisame’s way. “Sometimes it feels like you love that damn boat more than you love me.”

“You could have just said you want the damn thing,” Senku snaps, still not really into any of your admittedly realistic arguments. He really knows how to pull this whole callous boyfriend act, however. You would have believed it if you didn’t know how much he actually cares about people. “Am I supposed to read your mind or something?”

“I always need to do everything by myself,” you huff, pretending to be offended. “What kind of man even are you?”

Then you tug Senku closer by the collar. It’s sudden enough that he can’t see it coming no matter how many possibilities that brain of his can predict, and then press your lips against his cheek as chastely as you can after dealing with Gen’s tongue in all sorts of crevices of your body for more than a year. That’s what would have happened, yes, if only everything went according to your perfect plan. Unfortunately for you and your future self’s dignity, you severely miscalculate the angle. Or more precisely, you don’t expect Senku to turn his head to look at you just in time for you to end up planting your mouth right against his.

Wide eyed and horrified, you are frozen still, scared to even take a breath. Senku is as stiff as a board, eyes open and unresponsive, with his hands hanging uselessly by his sides. It would have been sort of insulting if you didn’t know you just caught both him and yourself by surprise. Damn it. It’s probably his first kiss, too. And it’s wasted on some stupid ploy, even if it plays a crucial role in aiding humanity’s revival. At least you two did your part well. Kirisame splutters something indistinguishable and runs away, at last.

You two stare at each other for a long, drawn out while before Gen’s borderline hysterical laughter interrupts the moment. Yes, the mentalist didn’t ruin your friendship with Senku, but you might have done that yourself just now. Nothing if not a bearer of bad decisions, you are a hypocrite. But at least it’s expected from you to get yourself in a predicament. It’s something you can blame yourself for without the need to be angry at other people, so it’s fine.

You don’t know which one of you looks away first, but by the way Senku isn’t cursing you into high heavens you can guess that you haven’t gotten your friendship card revoked yet. Which is a good thing, this means there is no need for you to mop pathetically later down the line. Yes, neither of you are capable of looking each other in the eyes right now, but it’s definitely something you can talk about later. Hopefully. Ishigami Senku is always open for discussion, after all.

Hastily you step away from Senku, pretending like nothing happened at all. The damage is done and Kirisame is gone, so it’s time to get back to business. Swallowing the awkwardness and clearing your throat from all the remaining air stuck in it, you turn at Kohaku. “Back to Suika.”

“The car went southeast,” she informs, eyebrows furrowed and still scowling. “We need to hurry so we can catch up.”

By the time you do catch up to the lab, your lungs are empty and your throat is burning with every breath you take. You barely have the strength to tug open the door, but you manage to pull it open, heaving and gasping in between strained coughs. Suika is behind the wheel, panicked yet resolute. That’s exactly the reason why you don’t snitch on little girls trying to sneak in into intercontinental cruises. They always end up saving your ass. Unlike some certain bridge guards like Ginro, who is splattered on the floor under the table, barely alive. You aren’t even surprised, of course a coward like him would be lucky enough to somehow evade the beam’s distance.

You disregard Ginro’s presence, lunging yourself at Suika to tackle her into a hug. This is it, you think just as Suika wraps her tiny arms around your shoulders, muttering something about you calling for her. You whisper hushed apologies into her ear, simply relieved that she is okay. This inexplicable sense of pride you have for her right now must be exactly what Mashiro feels when she looks at Kenjiro and you. That’s your baby right here, biological or not, and you can’t help but think that no matter what happens next, the future of humanity is the brightest it has ever been. You hope your future kids have at least a fraction of Suika’s brilliance, but you will love them no matter what. If you even get to live long enough to have a family, that is.

Fortunately for your fragile mental health, you are too short on time to be having an existential crisis right now. By the time you escape Ibara’s guards, Senku reinvents a stink bomb, and you do get some precious stones albeit not the ones you begged for. Under Amaryllis’ instructions you hitch a ride to some remote, albeit breathtaking sapphire cave, but the sight is just too stunning to care about semantics. You quickly scribble a list of things that you need for Amaryllis to bring you for makeup and proper haircare, adding some other ingredients on the side for yourself. It’s only in pictures, of course. Not even your best work, truth be told, but she nods sternly, asking to be taken back to land as quickly as possible.

Gen furrows his eyebrows, eyes darting from the water to you silently. You can pinpoint exactly the moment Gen figures whatever he was contemplating out, as the corners of his lips tug upwards and he moves closer to you.

“You are quite at a disadvantage here, [Name]-chan,” he points out casually, fingers moving the loose straps of your dress back and forth playfully, before tugging it off your shoulders completely. You have half a mind to swat his hand away but give him benefit of the doubt. Maybe that’s when Gen says he’s sorry. It’s hard to breach the topic even for someone like him. You want to play devil’s advocate by saying that Gen is feeling apologetic about his words and doesn’t know how to be fully honest about it. Unfortunately you’re far off the mark. “This might just be an eal-ray hazard if we were to be discovered.”

Not an apology but Gen is right. Of course he is. You already know that you will have to learn to swim right now, however rudimentary. But it’s pretty clear that Gen has some hidden agenda behind his innate need to nudge people in the direction that is beneficial to the cause. “Yeah, I know,” you admit, titling your head to the side just a bit to put some distance between the two of you “I guess I need someone to help me learning how to swim, don’t I?”

It’s okay. If you are about to let yourself in into the spiderweb of some crazed lunatic who deems himself some sort of a Chinese emperor, then you may as well have this conversation with Gen at last before going to clear the air with Senku. Your life is a mess right now. Komugi has definitely put a curse on you with that sendoff, and Gen is just so shameless sometimes. But you get it, really. Asagiri Gen is as easygoing as they get, but he is not above being mad. Or jealous. The hypothesis of this being a punishment is still not off the table, either. And today has been too stressful from start to finish. Not only did you reprimand him so harshly, even if deserved, but the girls are also upset with him for his earlies behavior. Maybe Gen finally realizes that he bit way more than he can chew with this scheme of his and now doesn’t know how to apologize properly.

And behind all that façade of his Gen is just clingy and just as desperate for love and recognition as you are. It comes with the whole parental abandonment thing that he pretends doesn’t bother him. Gen sure loves hiding behind this confident and self-assured side of his, and as much as it is a part of him as all the seemingly negative aspects that he tries his best to keep under wraps, you know better by now. It’s hard not to, considering how shy Gen gets when you turn the tables on him by being even the slightest bit affectionate with him in public. The dissonance is jarring, but Asagiri Gen has never been good with his genuine feelings being put on display like that. So you don’t hold it against him, his inability to communicate properly. But it’s still rather grueling, this uncertainty. Just this once you will be the one to offer a way out. You fear that it’s pointless. You are right.

“Gen, don’t you feel even a little sorry?” You ask, stepping aside from Gen to finally face him.

He blinks at you, unsure of what exactly you mean until you can all but see the light in his eyes spark up to life. A frown crosses his features for a brief moment, a slight crease in between his eyebrows that Gen masterfully smooths out the second he realizes it’s there. Then Gen chuckles, deflecting the real issue with a question of his own. “It seems things have worked out in our avor-fay, so should I?”

Close eyed smile hidden behind his lilac sleeve, Asagiri Gen does not feel remorse. Shame for speaking out of line when he did, yes, but there is no penance to the way he grins at you. Nodding in resigned sort of understanding, you tug the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. You care about Gen, of course you do. And you know he cares about you, too. It’s a given, Gen wouldn’t be wasting time on you otherwise.

But you also love yourself and want the best for both of you. Right now, however, it looks like Gen is too busy planning forty-four steps ahead to care about what’s happening to him come the next one. The tight rope he’s walking right now may seem like home for him, but the ends of it are tied just loose enough for it to snap. And you might as well be a hypocritical bitch, but if you have an ounce of respect for Gen to run yourself into a grave with worry under this agreement of yours, then the least Gen can do is being on the low about it.

“When you finally want to talk honestly, you know where to find me,” you state, hoping to sound firm and steady in your convictions.

In truth, your voice rings in an unfamiliar rhythm that does not belong to you but to someone who is very much tired of this silent back and forth. You want a conversation, a discussion, some sort of clarity. It’s frustrating, but you can’t ask. You shouldn’t ask. Maybe it’s not Gen at all. Maybe it’s just you. It’s always you. Gen knows what you’re thinking. He always does. That’s why his smile softens and he knocks on the gates of Eden once more.

“So, about those swimming lessons, [Name]-chan?” Gen asks coyly, trying to direct your thoughts elsewhere. “I am quite a nice immer-say, if I say so myself.”

Not so long ago it used to feel comforting, this quiet understanding. Now it feels like a guillotine hanging over your head. Asagiri Gen knows more about you than you know about yourself. There is something to be said about the way you seem to know more about Gen than about yourself, too. Isn’t it just hilarious that all it took for you to start reevaluating your relationship is just one single careless move that sent the house of cards tumbling? Or maybe it’s been like that since the beginning, you just refused to admit it. Whatever the case, being Gen’s first option doesn’t cut it anymore. Not unless you two just talk properly.

Gen watches you expectantly, patiently waiting for your response. The answer that he wants does not exist. “Reina!” You scream. Gen’s smile gains its edge back. Unexpectedly, he lost. “Please teach me how to swim real quick! Just the basics will do.”

You walk away without looking back.

By the time Amaryllis returns with a basket full of fruit and a handful of coconuts, you have made decent progress with your admittedly lacking swimming prowess. Reina is kind enough to not point out the obvious at first, but Kohaku has no qualms in poking her finger in your cheek to smooth out your frown, offering to beat Gen up again. Not wanting to stay on the upsetting topics for too long, you turn the tables on your friends, proceeding to tease the hell out of Reina for the array of glaring marks scattered along her chest.

Suddenly flustered, the only thing your friend can do is just take it and then promise Amaryllis that she will try getting rid of them with your help. The island beauty shrugs, saying something about this probably playing in Reina’s favor and painting her as a desirable pick, but the way Amaryllis delivers it does not sit right with you. That Master sure is a despicable character, maybe it’s a good thing you decided to prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately for you there is not enough time to clear the air with Senku himself, although it looks like he doesn’t particularly care as long as some work is being done. It’s way less awkward than you imagined it being, too. And when you do get to speak to each other properly, despite it being work related, things go at its usual pace. To speed up the preparation process, however, you and Senku still divide your chores and you leave the hair products to him while you take on the makeup and perfumes.

Senku does give the pufferfish and the magnolia tree bark in your basket a confused look before you watch him grind his teeth in some sort of resignation when he finally realizes what you want to do with them. You are about to ask if he’s against your idea when Senku nods, a lackluster stamp of approval. Not that you needed one, of course, but it’s nice to know he understands that you aren’t exactly to be walking around the park there. And as much as the smoke bomb is a good asset to have, there’s only so much one can do with a wall of mist before their time runs out.

You get to testing foundation swatches to try and get the perfect match, which regrettably takes a bit of time with how damn pedantic you are. Itchy brain and restless hands, you have to settle for mediocrity just because Reina’s irritably tells you to just quit it. Picking the flattering shades for lipsticks and eyeshadows is way easier, and despite your resources being rather limited, you manage to come up with four unique palettes to complement each of you decently well. You ask to be the first client of Reina’s hair salon, and then drop all the makeup in her lap, asking if she and Amaryllis can cover the rest while you take care of some other stuff.

With your own makeup out of the way, you get to mixing a nice, big batch of a much-needed paralytics. Just in case things go south and you need to claw your way out from some musty man’s grippers. All you really need is to get the magnocurarine from magnolia bark, its curare-like properties will be enough to paralyze someone just enough to run away from them. But the tetrodotoxin you collected from the pufferfish Amaryllis brough you is just a backup plan, in case the safer option fails. You may not be capable of killing someone with it, being too much of a coward for that, but someone like Amaryllis might find a use for it. Who knows. But you pour the poison in some tiny glass vials and tie a string to each one of them so they can be worn as an accessory.

Kohaku opens the door to the lab, offering you another one of Amaryllis’ dresses. You thank her, offhandedly mentioning that she looks even cuter than usual now, with her wavy hair finally being taken care of properly. Kohaku agrees, muttering how it’s a shame she can’t snap a picture to show Komugi later and you promise to draw her a portrait in this dress of hers in a bit. You make quick work of changing, noticing how the new outfit leaves very little to imagination. It is far more comfortable to move in, however, so you can finally feel a bit surer that you won’t trip over your own feet and die when running from the stone world Slenderman if the need for that arises.

You’re aren’t fast enough to even grab the vials off the desk when Kohaku drags you out eagerly, promising that you will enjoy the show she has in store for you. She’s not necessarily wrong, but that’s not exactly what you meant when you asked Reina to take care of things. Aren’t you supposed to be speedrunning this Hollywood movie makeover efficiently? What is this cross-dressing event and dear lord, Ginro looks ridiculous. Soyuz is built like a damn caricature of a soviet man in a dress, Gen is halfway through changing back into his yukata with a thick layer of mascara over his admittedly envy-inducing lashes, and Senku is frantically washing his face with a bar of soap.

“I don’t want to know,” you say before they start going deep into what exactly happened here. “I take it Ginro is coming with us?”

“That is correct, [Name]-chan.” Gen preens, once again dismissing your interpersonal troubles for the sake of greater good. There must be something they’re not telling you, then. It’s fine. “The more, the errier-may.”

“Talking about taking things with you,” Senku interjects, drying his face with a towel before throwing it right into Gen’s smirking face. “Lose the satchel, [Name]. I have something better.”

“Yeah,” you agree, a little sigh escaping your lips as you laugh and point at your dress. “Doesn’t really fit the mermaid princess vibe now, does it?” You know Senku is right, despite not wanting to part ways with basically your whole repertoire of weaponry, including the journal. How the hell are you doing to survive sleepless nights in that damn palace if you can’t even draw on anything. Still, anything is better than nothing and you can always trust Ishigami Senku to come up with something to substitute your loss with. It’s probably going to be something useful, too. “Well, what is it?”

“C’mon.” He waves his hand, already one foot into the lab. Gen blinks at you knowingly. Reina snickers. Kohaku’s rapid whispering breaks the sound barrier. You roll your eyes, following Senku inside the lab. At least you can talk in private now. And pick the damn paralytics up now so you don’t forget them. “You’re gonna love it, ten billion percent.”

Senku is shuffling somewhere in the paper cabinet, frantically looking for something. You snatch the vials from the table, tying them all to one of the countless pearl beads attached to your dress. Then you lean down over Senku’s shoulder to take a peek at what exactly he’s doing. Just in time too, as Senku pulls out a small memo pad, smugly showcasing it to you as if asking whether you are sold on his brilliant idea yet.

You try to snatch it off of his hands but don’t get the chance to, your nail guard scratching across the paper as Senku jerks his hand back. The gold of your nail guard leaves a deep grey line right where the sharp tip of it scraped the sheet and you grin, teeth and all. No writing tools needed, it’s a notepad prepared for a goldpoint. Okay then, a lot has changed since you first met, it seems like. Dr. Scientific Foresight right here sure knows how to bribe you now. You are sold.

“Haters will say it’s sorcery,” you joke, another ill-timed humor moment from you. “What if they decide to throw me into the sea for that?”

Senku rolls his eyes at you, pretending to be annoyed even if he’s still laughing along. Then he shoos you away from him like a pesky fly that you are sometimes. Dropping the tiny notebook on the desk, he pokes a hole in its spine and slots a piece of string into it, turning it into some makeshift hanging notepad. “We’ll fish you out,” Senku quips back, then picks up the notepad by the string, coming closer to you. “Hold still,” he orders and you do, in fact, fall still.

It’s not really the order itself, but the shift in tone when Senku says that. From his usual tone to something far firmer that heats the bottom of your stomach in the most shameful of ways. Neither does it help that you can feel the warmth of his hands as he quickly ties the string over your waist and hides the memo pad in between the layers of your dress’ skirts. You reach out to fix the stray piece of lightweight fabric Senku left askew but instead end up gripping it with all you have, when you catch him looking at your face and not the memo pad he’s still adjusting. Oh, well, maybe this is the perfect chance to not rely on sweeping things under the rug just because they don’t cause any discomfort for now and actually talk. If only you could just speak without stuttering.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you say quietly, hoping your next argument doesn’t sound too much like a copout. “I didn’t actually think you’d–”

“Yeah, I figured,” Senku cuts you off, rubbing the back of his head lethargically. “Got Kirisame off of our asses so who cares.”

Right. As pragmatic as always, Senku dismisses your apology. You were worried about nothing, it seems like. Or maybe it’s just another instance of him extending his grace to you. Whichever it is, you try your best not to overthink it and just run with what you’re given. It’s hard to think straight in such a close proximity, anyway. You have no idea why Ishigami Senku is still up in your personal space like that, but he never takes a step back from you even when there’s no logical reason for him to remain this close.

There’s nothing left for Senku to do now that the knot has been fastened just fine, yet he still watches your reaction to his every move carefully. Not that there are any, except the slow rise of his chest. You blink, unsure what exactly Senku is looking for on your face, but with the way his brows furrow, it almost seems like he’s going through the entirety of Hodge conjecture and somehow actually manages to prove it successfully. You guess for Ishigami Senku something like this is the equivalent of one of the Millennium Prize Problems, too. Because he apologizes back.

“I’m sorry, too,” he mumbles under his breath almost reluctantly, finally looking away from you. “I know this is gotta be awkward as hell.”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him back quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

You are the one to step aside, leaning your back on the door of the lab to put some much needed space between the two of you. Not that you’re having a bad time being this close to Senku, no. It’s just unusual. Way out of your comfort zone and you slept next to each other for good six months, so that says a lot about the odd tension in the air. Senku must have noticed it too, because he is quick to return to the desk, once again rummaging through the countless boxes stuffed under it.

“So, what’s the plan, doc?” Senku asks, scoffing when he notices your surprised expression. “We both know your ass can’t sit still.”

First of all, rude as hell. Secondly, just because Senku is right, does he really need to be so blunt about it? You guess that’s just how he is. But at least he’s straightforward, unlike… Whatever. Moving on. You run your tongue over your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. It’s not really who you are, but you come close enough. “I’ll try getting as much information as I can from Kirisame while the girls are doing their thing,” you answer. Then you point at the magnocurarine vials attached to your skirt. “Maybe drag her a bit if all else fails.”

“Just lure her out alone somewhere and we’ll do the rest.” Senku nods, accepting your answer as something he most definitely expected already. Then he finally finds what he’s been looking for, casually dropping the rolled-up blueprint on the desk. It’s marked ‘183-AC’, you try your hardest not to laugh. Yeah, of course you’ll be moving right into aerial combat with the resident stone world throwing champion added to the mix. “Been thinking about drones these days,” Senku explains. That this cheeky bastard has the gall to smirk at you. “You’ll be missing out on all the good stuff.”

Yeah, you will be. But not only you’re needed elsewhere, but you also think putting some distance between you and Gen will do you good right now. Maybe that anger you’re trying your hardest to push away will die down and you’ll realize that you’re overreacting and everything will go back to normal. You aren’t sure. All you know is that you’re emotionally drained and have a lot of work cut out for you. If only you could just stay here like this.

“Of course you did,” you tease, a good-natured shake of your head. “Good luck with the easily disturbed.”

Senku rolls his eyes at you, unamused by the prospects of dealing with Gen and Reina freaking out over the idea of a stone world drone. “Like we have any to begin with,” he bites back. “Not that we need any.”

Then he sighs, oddly exhausted. Well, not oddly. Senku must be so damn tired from all the weight of the world’s future basically hanging off of his shoulders. If only you could actually be useful enough to lighten the load. You guess the only way is to just do your damn job and not be a nuisance. A hard feat to pull, considering the way you are.

Still, you try your best to remain realistically positive. “Of course, we don’t,” you say, smiling. “We have you. That’s more than enough.”

Luck is not a thing you two have and the responsibility thrown onto Senku’s lap is never going anywhere. It’s a double-edged sword, reminding him of just how much everyone depends on him, but it’s the only way you can put into words just how much you trust him to get things back on track. Truly the heart of it all, Ishigami Senku is still unaware how much the people in his life care about him. He furrows his eyebrows, the petrification scars coming together in the form of two jagged lines barely connecting. Senku blinks at you, out-of-character confused once more. Whatever he is trying to figure out is none of your business even if you want to stick around long enough to find out. You aren’t allowed to. But if he wants to tell you, he will.

“We’ll find it,” you promise. Hand on the doorhandle, you are ready to leave. Senku doesn’t move a muscle, hunched over the drone’s blueprint, staring you down pensively. “Not coming?”

“In a bit,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand and it’s your turn to blink in confusion. “Move it already,” he snaps and you can’t help but laugh. Well, everyone is allowed their secrets. Who are you to deny Senku at least that.

Turning around, you clench your jaw so hard that your teeth hurt. You almost lost this. Or maybe you didn’t. Whatever the case, you are grateful to still have this. As difficult as Ishigami Senku is, as much as you still want to put him in a petri dish just to see if he can multiply this way, and will go to extreme length for just a single sample of his DNA to find out what exactly is wrong with him, you care about him so much it makes you sick.

You don’t want to say the word, you won’t throw it around so casually, but everything set aside, this friendship means a lot more to you than some feelings. You would rather kill yourself than play it safe, but some thrills are just not worth the pain. You won’t ever risk ruining your friendship, even for a chance of something ever happening. And it’s fine with you. Some relationships are never meant to grow past anything platonic. What you have right now is great, too, isn’t it?

You still think that your friends are your consolidation prize for losing Mashiro. You can never get something good before giving up something just as valuable first, after all. If only you didn’t have to deal with Gen right now. You take a deep breath and open the door, walking out first to let Senku do whatever it is that he wants to in peace of solitude. Sorry, Gen. There is no time for romance right now. And as much as you don’t want to go back there, you need to speak with the girls, anyway.

And Ginro. Fuck you, Ginro.

[kii-nami]

sorry to all the zero of you who reads codex. i didn't post yesterday bc i needed to write an author's note but i couldn't be bothered

[kii-nami]

what i've been thinking about, however, is bleach. a lot. i have a crazy roster which i call the four horsemen of bleachpocalypse which include urahara (an obvious choice of a morally grey character; also yoruichi was lowkey there first and it's kinda a harem ngl), hirako (sighs wistfully my blond jester man), grimmjow (no comments), and jugram (i yearn for a prince with psychological trauma).

and you might wonder what exactly is the pattern here and to that i say

[kii-nami]

CONTENTS: VOLUME 18: ON WARM BEACHES, KEPT PROMISES, AND TIGHT ROPES

The next morning you apologize to Senku for being a weirdo, making up some crazy excuse about your monthly mood swings. Since he has zero interest in looking at you, he once again dismisses you with a deadpan word or two. Taking Gen’s words of fixing your self-esteem to heart, you apologize again five separate times until you annoy Senku just enough so he lifts his head from what looks like another batch of artificial chocolate. He asks what the hell it is that you want from him. You ask if he has any more chocolate left. He does.

You spend the whole evening in the laboratory, mixing sweet treats for Ryusui to sell later, but it tastes a tad bit different from the one Senku left on your desk that day. You guess it’s just your emotional response talking, so you let it slide even if some part of you wants for that chocolate bar to just taste different because it was made specifically for you. It’s a stupid thought, so you change the subject.

You ask how the preparations for the Perseus are coming along; inform that you want to start looking for silkworms as a present to Yuzuriha; and then update Senku on Minami’s idea of making a photo album because she thinks you all will soon go your separate ways. Senku thinks it’s stupid. You argue that it’s sweet and that she definitely thinks you won’t be coming back. You end up debating over the semantics of mourning a two-way trip, but it’s the lightest you’ve felt the whole week, so you allow yourself to have it. No issues with Gen have been resolved and he doesn’t care about your feelings being elsewhere, so you have no reason to deny yourself this moment of respite. It’s not like your banter will lead somewhere; you know it won’t. But a girl can dream without being delusional, so dream you do.

Yuzuriha is undeniably pleased when she finally gets to have silk at her disposal and everyone involved in silkworm conundrum gets a new garment free of charge. By the time a summer heatwave rolls in, you and Komugi need to fight for Kohaku’s honor and physically restrain Ryusui from buying out the whole collection of swimsuits. Yuzuriha almost bans the three of you from her boutique, but it’s all worth it. The idea of not being able to spend money on Reina is so terrifying, Ryusui goes a little blue to the face and backs off. Kohaku and Komugi get their swimsuits for all the crazy physical activities they have planned, and you pick up a nice two piece and spend the whole trip to the beach by being a lazy, sun-obsessed cat.

Gen is not a fan of smoldering sunlight, opting to hide under an umbrella, talking your ears off about the logistics of human attraction from a psychological standpoint. Not very subtle of him, but you let him talk your ears off with his underhanded subliminal audios. This particular tangent of his has been harmless so far, and Gen’s voice is just ambient enough to make for a pleasant background noise. You have no qualms with admitting at least that.

Outside of today’s subtle hints, however, Gen has been very pushy with his delusional, three-way noncommitment agenda these past few months. Almost treading the line you’d rather he never cross, but never anything outright malicious, thankfully. You haven’t spoken about that evening at the clinic since then, but you decided that it’s for the better. Just because Gen is unbothered enough to still keep your involvement going while being aware of your conflicting feelings towards Senku, doesn’t mean anything will come out of this. You are operating this situation with the ‘you can look but cannot touch’ mindset, and Gen should stay in his lane. He can’t get both of you in his bed, that’s impossible. You won’t be ruining your friendship with Ishigami Senku over something so stupid.

Next to you, Senku looks on the verge of passing out even in the shade, so it really makes you wonder how exactly he thinks he’s going to survive the tropics of South America when he can barely stand Japanese heat. To be completely fair, you are sort of surprised Senku even agreed to come to the beach with everyone. But you guess there’s only so much he can do when it’s a government-mandated day off for everyone because Ryusui declared Reina’s birthday a national holiday. You told the sailor that it’s not exactly how things work, but you don’t really mind either way. Another day to do absolutely nothing but busk in the sunlight is the best thing that has happened to you since evolution decided boomslangs should exist, and you take what you are given eagerly.

“Have you figured out the crew already, Senku?” You ask, getting up from your spot to reapply your first ever attempt as a sunscreen.

It’s not really effective unless you know what you are doing and it is also actually a pretty damn dangerous thing to DIY if you have zero understanding of chemical formulation. That’s why you have been testing it solely on yourself for a while now. So far you haven’t dropped dead yet from zinc oxide included in the concoction, so today you smothered Gen and Chrome in it too. If they die, then you will surely know it’s unsafe to sell. You are joking, of course, but it’s the safest way to expand your test group by including two unrelated test subjects, one of which is almost certainly immunodeficient.

“Can’t be bothered,” Senku replies, downing the remnants of the energy drink and then popping the ice in his mouth to break his teeth on it. Admittedly in a very irritating way. But if he’s hot, then sure, he can chew on some ice if he wants. “Ryusui can deal with it just fine. And I’m going so who cares.”

You shake your head lightheartedly, laughing at just how pragmatic Senku is. “You should be careful, Senku,” you warn. It’s a bit of some good old fearmongering, but it does manage to catch his attention, so you consider it a win. You are actually a lost cause, aren’t you? Maybe you should have gone to therapy when Mashiro offered to pay for it from her deep pocket. A thing which your father admittedly does not have. “He might just forget what we’re doing here and make it a Reina exclusive cruise.”

Gen gasps, suddenly jumping up in his spot and stars waving his arms in protest dramatically. “Please don’t jinx it, [Name]-chan,” he begs, knowing full well just how awful the combination of your and Senku’s terrible luck really is. “But eally-ray, Senku-chan. You don’t have anyone in mind?” Gen being a bit too on the nose about this and you can’t discreetly elbow him for laying it far too thick. Neither can you poke him in the side with your nail guards, you just had to leave those at home for once. So you stick to pushing Gen down onto your lap to smother him in sunscreen again. Not that this is too much of a punishment for that guy. “I, for once, really want to say here.”

One unimpressed look down at Gen, who is sprawled across your lap with his face pressed against your stomach, Senku snorts. “I bet you do.”

Too much sarcasm here, but it takes a lot for Senku to drop it, especially when it comes to things like these. Still, you notice the dots and dashed he’s tapping against now-empty glass. And still, you laugh, blinking back a casual no. You aren’t particularly bothered, but you sure as hell wouldn’t mind if Senku made things worse for you. You feel crazy right now for even thinking this, so you dig your nails into Gen’s back just to make a point. He hisses, whining about you being too harsh with his delicate self. You don’t feel even the slightest bit bad, so you just let the red lines along his back stay right where they are. It’s Gen’s fault for pushing your mind farther into the depth of the gutter. Now you’re out here performing mental gymnastics over Senku smirking at you.

Picking up on your response, Senku just shrugs, “Ryusui knows his stuff, we’ll be fine.”

“I guess I’m staying, then?” You ask a question that you already know the answer to. “I’ll take good care of things here while you’re cruising Japan, don’t worry.”

It’s just a trip to one of many Japan’s islands, after all, so it would just be a waste to not divide the group and make sure the civilization here keeps picking up speed while Senku is out searching for Byakuya’s gift. You wouldn’t miss the actual trip to South America, of course. You don’t care what Ryusui has to say about your inability to swim, they will have to drag you out of that ship dead because you aren’t leaving. But you can admit that it’s sort of funny. With how some people have been acting these days, it seems like not a lot are aware that it’s not actually the start of your sailing towards South America. Gen seems to be one of those, as he lifts himself suddenly, yelping and almost knocking his head on your jaw in the process.

“You wanna stay back?” Senku’s question is a rather odd one, even if it wrapped in a lot of layers of sardonic disposition and an almost-patronizingly bent grins. Again, it’s not that you want to stay, it’s that you see no logical reason as to why you should be going this time around. Senku points the bottom of the empty glass at Gen, which just leads to the mentalist huffing in offense when he gets called out for being a bit too clingy in the context of your connection. “Why? Afraid Gen’s separation anxiety gets too much for them to handle?”

You roll your eyes at another wave of sarcasm. The heat really is getting him, it looks like. Senku seems to be under impression that this is some grand act of self-sacrifice for the sake of nonexistent love on your part. Which is definitely not the case, at least not for you. Gen doesn’t want to go because he also knows Ryusui most definitely will deny you access and he pities you just enough to stick around. Gen is also lazy and doesn’t like boats, so he just wants to slack off while using you as his safety net.

“Not necessarily,” you deny, reaching to snatch the glass from Senku’s hands just so you can appropriate it for yourself. Refilling it with a new batch of ice and your favorite proto-Redbull, you down half of it in one big gulp. Then you sigh. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, Senku,” you admit, albeit in not the best way you could have worded it. Gen has no sleeves to cover that smug expression of his, so you have to just ignore it this time around and continue proving your point with a scheming mentalist all but vibrating next to you, “But I don’t think I’m going to be chosen, anyway,” you explain your reasoning and then drive it home by stating facts. “Ryusui-kun knows I can’t swim. He’s meticulous and cares about people. He wouldn’t want to put me, or the mission, at risk like that.”

“It seems your pragmatism is eally-ray working against you this time, Senku-chan,” Gen teases.

It’s some utterly out-of-pocket statement on his part and you do elbow him in the side this time around. Gen cries, unapologetic. You ignore it, grinding your teeth. Truly godsend, Yuzuriha pops in to say everyone is gathering for a group photo, as you need to go back home before the sun reaches the zenith and everyone boils to death. No use crying over spilt milk, you bury your useless anger deep down. Then you let it all go and get to gathering your stuff and take this as opportunity to escape the awkwardness Gen intentionally created. You hope the look on your face is enough to convey that’s he’s in, for the lack of better words, some deep shit for this one.

Gen doesn’t take you seriously. He doesn’t seem to feel very threatened when he pinches your cheek just as Minami presses the button, but it only irritates you more. You click your tongue, untangling yourself from Gen’s side to stand behind the camera so Minami can also be included. Gen has no choice but to let you go, knowing full well that one and only Ishigami Senku can’t be bothered to snap a picture or two even if he refuses to participate in those group photos of yours most of the time. You really should invent an automated camera timer already. Then you wave everyone goodbye and leave with Minami to help her with developing the film for her photo gallery project.

The Perseus is ready for sailing by September. By the time everyone tearfully gathers at the dock before the send-off, the crew is yet to be announced. You guess Ryusui either wants to keep the suspense going or there’s definitely some meddling involved but you decide to let this one go. Minami’s frown deepens before her eyes start watering, and she hysterically admits how truly upset she is about having to part ways with everyone right now. Fortunately for everyone involved, Francois’s foresight is truly the stuff of nightmares, and the automated camera timer is ready just in time for the last group photo before the Perseus’ maiden voyage. Then you take pity on the journalist and admit that the crew will be back in about a month at best and she really has nothing to worry about.

Luckily, you don’t get to experience Minami’s anger as Ryusui stars announcing his picks for this mission. Senku and Reina are obviously chosen, so is Francois as the person to keep up with Ryusui’s culinary whims. Naturally, Yuzuriha is on the sail’s maintenance and Chrome and Kaseki are also up to go, along with the entirety of the battle team. Ginro’s extremely vocal reluctance to board is only met with a rather dull, yet expected response from Ryusui and the cowardly bastard decides to stay back, instead of joining his brother. For once, nobody argues with him and Ryusui continues with reading the list, which only now has Gen left in there, covering the position of their diplomat. And as predicted, your name is not included.

Gen blinks dumbly, not really sure why exactly he’s been chosen to negotiate with the wildlife of the uninhabited island, and you decide to keep your suspicion of it actually being a rather prosperous civilization to yourself. Byakuya’s stories are long-winded and tiresome, but he never wrote things just for the sake of writing them. His grave is nothing but a slab of stone on a hill with no body buried under it and Soyuz didn’t crash near Honshu where you currently are, so your best guess would be anywhere around the Ryukyu Islands or somewhere closer to Taiwan. And combined with how Tale Eighty-two encourages the descendants of ISS astronauts return to Japan’s largest island, it makes sense for them to split in at least two factions. This alone is enough for you to be more than sure that this so-called treasure island is actually a rather dangerous place without someone like Gen up your sleeve.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Komugi mumbles teasingly, snickering over Gen’s panicked state. “See you never, Kusosagiri. Good riddance.”

“Not ice-nay at all, Komugi-chan…” Gen mutters, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. “What if I die?”

“I’ll be nice when you stop being stupid and leave [Name] be,” your friend says, although it sounds more like a thinly veiled threat than a promise. Gen swallows, stealing one hunted look at you. Rolling her eyes, Komugi gives up the fight with the unmovable boulder that is your and Gen’s utter mess of a relationship. “Pride goeth before the fall, Asagiri Gen.”

Disregarding Komugi’s rather cryptic send-off, you push Gen up front, telling him that the world needs his help. Gen stumbles, frantically denying the opportunity to board. You hiss, telling him to stop being difficult and do his job. If Komugi has no qualms letting Kohaku go alone, then he should know better than pull this whole romantic sacrifice nonsense and do his damn job. Your little cat fight doesn’t last long, as a flash of blue blinks past you and Kohaku lifts you off the ground and throws you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Swiftly crossing the gangway, Kohaku sets you on the deck rather carefully, considering she repeats the action with Gen and has no issue letting him splatter on the floor face first.

A little disoriented, you can only focus on Kohaku giving Senku a tad bit too enthusiastic high five. To think she’d conspire against you like that. But you guess Kohaku has only your best interest in mind, you do want to be here after all. Catching you watching them, Senku shrugs dismissively. “Didn’t I say I’m gonna snatch you away?” He asks and well… That’s one way to put it, but sure, that he did. Through Kohaku, but did.

Ryusui furrows his eyebrows, a little something behind his eyes not really adding up to the words that escape his mouth. “Senku, what’s the meaning of this?” He’s still as explosive as always, arguably for the right reason too, but the tone of his voice doesn’t really match with the amount of stony kind of ire he usually has when things don’t go his way. You don’t think this dissonance is too noticeable if one is in the heat of the moment or can’t be bothered to hyperanalyze facial expressions. But someone like you, who is prone to overthinking useless things, can’t let this slide. Just what exactly is happening and why the hell Gen isn’t in the epicenter of tomfoolery for once? “It’s my ship and my crew–”

Senku, as casual with his mannerism as always, interrupts Ryusui before he can finish his sentence. “Don’t care, not even one millimeter,” Senku says, resorting to his favorite pastime of digging in his ear. No wonder you were in denial about any sort of feelings for him, he’s just a little disgusting sometimes. It’s glaringly obvious someone didn’t have any female role models growing up. “If I want her here, she’s gonna be here. We need her where we’re going, anyway.”

Only then Senku goes to say some nonsense that forces you to the brink of a cardiac arrest and yes, his charms are definitely elsewhere. Or maybe you are just easy. So easy it’s embarrassing. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not roll your eyes at just how absurd your behavior is. It also takes a lot of willpower to not spin Senku’s words for what they aren’t. It’s fine. It’s whatever. You can feel guilty about your feelings later, but right now you need to get to the bottom of this. And with how Ryusui just leaves without arguing, there is much to think about. The Perseus rocks when the anchor lifts and Kohaku ushers everyone inside as well, but this tired, utterly devastated expression of Ukyo’s face tells you someone will be listening to every single word you say.

“Ryusui-kun is right, you know,” you admit, pointing to the land that keeps appearing smaller with every wave that crashes over the vessel. You are also pretty sure that’s Ginro trying to catch up to you with the power of his weak breaststroke alone, so it’s better you bring Senku’s attention where it matters. “It’d be more useful if I stay back there, anyway.”

You should have phrased yourself a bit better, it looks like, but you didn’t exactly say anything untrue. It’s so in character of you to measure your own value in usefulness, but it comes along with all the mental blockades your father drilled into your head after the incident. You still think he could have gone about teaching you self-preservation and consequences in a better, gentler way, as his ministrations clearly just made you worse. But at least he tried doing something. Because he loved you enough to try fixing whatever that is wrong with you. Look at you, making excuses for that man again. Mashiro would have his head if she ever heard you think like that. Not that you want to, but it’s just a fact of life.

“Did Ginro’s sobfest rapture your eardrums or something?” As funny as jokes at Ginro’s expense usually are, this one doesn’t particularly hit the spot. You guess it’s because Senku doesn’t seem as unbothered as he was just a moment ago now that you are backing Ryusui up despite admitting that you’d do anything he wants you to. “It’s non-negotiable. Wrap the self-sacrifice thing up already and get to work.”

The rational part of you knows there is no hidden meaning to this. Senku, apparently, still thinks you are trying to play a martyr again, or whatever. He also clearly can’t be bothered wasting time on mixing medicine for people who have never been on a real cruise ship before. You get it, it’s all about efficiency. But what is he so agitated about? It’s kind of late for you to run away when Kohaku and Kinro are pulling Ginro up on the deck and you are almost in the open sea. There’s nowhere for you to go and Senku wins whatever it is that he wants from you.

Still, the insecure, self-sabotaging, attention-seeking loser that you are, you can’t help but open your mouth. It’s Senku’s own fault, anyway. Not only you now have the nerve to talk back to him with relative ease, but you are also crazy enough to enjoy this back-and-forth you have going on.

“What do you even need me for?” You ask, raising your voice and taking a couple of steps closer to Senku right until you can stare him down from one deep breath away. It’s a trick question. Not because your mediocre self is just the right amount of delusional to want to be special enough for Senku to admit that he wants you to come with, no. It’s an absurd thought to have in and of itself, in spite of it also being factually correct. But mostly because you know something that nobody else does, at least from the looks of it. “Is there one single actually useful thing I know that you don’t?”

For the first time since you met him Ishigami Senku looks at you like you are a babbling idiot. Fair, even if it does wonders with pissing you off the same way it does with upsetting you. You guess it is a stupid thing to say, only a moron would think they know everything there is to know, but it is also just a fact. Senku does know more than you do, there’s no denying at least that. Still, you must have hit some sort of a sore spot you aren’t aware of, because the scowl on his face is rather telling. Well, you were never good at making sane decisions, were you? Just look at you and Gen. Point proven.

There must be too much crackling air between the two of you, because the aforementioned mentalist lifts his hands up, and pretends to play a peacekeeper by trying to pacify you. “Now, now, let’s not argue here,” Gen mutters, an awkward giggle accompanying his words. One quick glance his way makes it seem like he’s afraid that you and Senku will start a physical fight over something stupid like this. A hilarious thing to think about, really. You are the last people who would be caught in an altercation like this, Gen knows this very well. So there must be something else then. Whatever it is, it better not be about your feelings. Gen really needs to stop meddling in your friendship with Senku, or one day it will backfire and you ten billion percent will despise him for it. “How about we take an ittle-lay breather and–”

It looks like today is the day it happens, too. “Shut up, Gen,” Senku snaps. “We’re not arguing.”

Coincidentally, you do the exact same thing. “Nobody asked, Gen,” you grumble, a bit too harshly. “We’re having a discussion here.”

Gen jerks away from you, somewhat taken aback by your uncharacteristically hissy demeanor, if not slightly hurt by it even. This just serves as a reminder of how truly pointless anger is, and you know that you will definitely apologize for this one later when everything cools down. Gen really needs to know when to keep that meddling of his to a minimum, however.

Unless, of course, your snapping at him is just a part of his plan, which might just be the case with how he positioned himself next to you. Behind Gen, Kohaku and Reina literally planted their face against the glass window of the bridge, thinking the shadow his bony back casts can make them look even a little discreet. It doesn’t. Why Ukyo is there with them is even bigger question, but you guess there’s only so much you can hear through the glass and they need a dependable pair of ears to aid them.

“Is that so…” Gen chuckles stiffly and then immediately goes to throw faux apologies your way when you glare at him. “Sorry, sorry… Do feel free to continue making things erribly-tay awkward for everyone…”

Senku sighs, lethargically rubbing the bridge of his nose with the heel of his palm. He’s clearly done with whatever the hell Gen’s deal is this time around and you share the sentiment, even if the mentalist is correct to some extent. Your unnecessarily heated debates may be awkward for someone like Kokuyo, bless his naïve heart and even more challenged logical thinking, but it sure is the pinnacle of entertainment for someone like Kohaku or Reina. Judging by their faces, those two are having the time of their lives right now. The real question is why exactly they are so into observing you like some zoo animals.

“I don’t know a lot of things, [Name],” Senku says after a while, stating a thing very much obvious. “But if you want a reason, then sure. You know all of the Hundred Tales.”

Well, that’s not the answer you either wanted or expected to hear, but it sure proves that you are not only delusional but also still the only person who’s aware that Suika snuck on board tonight. You noticed her leave after midnight and with how she even packed a travel bag with her, it wasn’t hard to deduce where exactly she was headed. The awful influence that you are, you weren’t going to stop her, that’s just ridiculous and not something you’d want someone to do to you. Instead, you went back to sleep right up until Ruri woke you up before dawn hit. Ironically enough, now both you and Suika are here as stowaways.

Still, Senku’s reason is a bit ridiculous, to the point that it sort of sounds like a cop-out. But funnily enough, unlike with Hyoga two years ago, right now Gen is right and you are emotionally compromised. Your judgement can’t be trusted. Just because you want things to be a certain way, doesn’t mean that they are. You need to believe an option that is logical instead of some delusion that is the last thing from probable. Even so, a lot of people on this ship know every single one of the Hundred Tales, most definitely way better than you do, too. You guess it’s because you have that modern person insight at things and can see those stories in a different light, but so can Senku himself. So nobody can blame you for being just a tad bit delusional right now.

“Obviously I know the Hundred Tales,” you sigh in defeat. “Why wouldn’t I? Byakuya-san wrote those.”

Admitting this is a bit embarrassing, especially in front of Senku of all people, but that’s the truth. You didn’t spend a week of your life listening to every single one of those childish stories just because you were bored out of your mind. Ruri may be the best damn storyteller you know, but one either has to be a native of Ishigami village or emotionally invested enough to survive through one of those tales. And even then, you never exactly went boasting about your sessions, so how exactly does Senku even know?

“How the hell do you even–” You are halfway through asking when the realization hits you. Gen complained about falling asleep halfway through tale Fifty-one once and you ignored his tears, telling him that it’s useful to learn something new once in a while. Back then you didn’t pay much attention to his declaration, but it makes sense now. The mentalist wouldn’t be going out of his way to corner Ruri for a chat about some cool, must-have rocks unless he just happens to be in Senku’s vicinity. “I asked you about platinum. Of course.” You answer for yourself, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips. There must be something done about this overthinking of yours immediately or you will end up in some very terrible misunderstanding one of these days and Gen will not be there to get you out of it. Still, does that mean… “Do you actually not know all of those?”

Your incredulous look only earns you a lukewarm nod from Senku. “Fell asleep after the seventh one,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Figured you would listen so there’s no point in wasting time.”

You snort, somehow disappointed that you didn’t see this one coming. “Eally-ray, now?” Gen, however, chuckles, a smidge scared of just how pragmatic Senku is most of the time. “Efficient as always, Senku-chan… Pushing all the oring-bay stuff onto other people.” He mumbles from behind his sleeves, side-eying the window where Kohaku and Reina are still observing you like their favorite soap opera. The moment Gen decides his next course of action is almost palpable, yet in spite of the stern look you give him, the mentalist still continues speaking. “You’re placing so much trust in [Name]-chan sometimes. What if she ran on umes-fay, too? You can’t be that sure, can you?”

You are about to tell Gen to stop. There are only so many boundaries he can push before it gets too much. It’s a fine line between meddling and ruining something, after all. And even if Gen knows how to balance it perfectly most of the time, there still will come a day when he missteps and falls off the rope straight into a bottomless pit. It can be today, or it can be tomorrow, it can be never or it can be right now. That’s why you love statistics and are so fascinated by odds. There’s inexplicable beauty in something as simple as probability. His chances may be low, but never zero.

But Asagiri Gen is a professional before all else. He takes immense pride in his work and he’s not the one to not account for probability of failure. Gen most definitely has fifty-five other backup plans in case all fifty-four that came before it fail. And even then, there’s an extra scheme hidden up his sleeve that will inevitably salvage everything. And sometimes, only rarely, Gen is playing to lose. This may just be one of those times, too.

Senku grinds his teeth, tense muscles of his jaw straining even more when he notices Gen isn’t really done with meddling with his life just yet. If anything, Gen seems to be ready to push it further, only to be cut off by an irked click of Senku’s tongue. “Can it with your psychological warfare, mentalist,” Senku is evidently not in the mood for some good old brain picking courtesy of your resident shrink. So much so, that he resorts to a hit a bit below the belt. “Does it get you off or something?”

Gen snickers, cackles, outright chortles even. “Oh, such provocative questions, Senku-chan…” You don’t exactly see what’s so funny until you hear what he says next. “I can’t answer that, but you should try asking [Name]-chan instead. You know she wasn’t lying... She loves you so much, she’d do ight-ray about anything if you tell her to.”

It takes exactly ten seconds and Senku’s unimpressed, deadpan stare for the words to settle in your brain. It takes another ten to catch Gen’s own realization that he may have messed up and that blow ended up being nothing but friendly fire. A wave of cold, prickling dread washes over you and you take a step back, trying to combat sudden dryness in your mouth by swallowing. It doesn’t help. You want to say that Gen didn’t cross the line, but you can’t argue with facts and logic, that would be unbecoming of a woman like you. I want to show you something fun, just promise you’re not the one to kiss and tell. Should have been worried about yourself, Gen. Pride goeth before the fall, indeed.

Maybe you should have ended things with Asagiri Gen, after all.

“Yes, it does,” you hiss, positively infuriated. “That’s why I tried ending things with you, Gen. You meddle too much with stuff that doesn’t concern you.” Taking a deep breath you disregard the hurt on Gen’s face. Serves him right for basically exposing your feelings like they’re nothing. You can only hope Senku is annoyed enough to miss the implications. “I’ll be in the lab if you need me, Senku,” you mumble under your breath, an embarrassing voice crack somewhere in the last syllable of Senku’s name. Just as you were laughing at Gen’s breaking voice not so long ago. Then you hastily hide inside the tight hallway, almost knocking Ryusui off the ladder with the door. “Sorry, Ryusui-kun.”

You don’t know exactly what you are apologizing for, almost sending Ryusui tumbling or the fact that you are technically a stowaway now. Whatever it is, you feel like you need to apologize at least to someone or you will do something you regret, like turning around and lashing out on Gen full throttle. How embarrassing. It’s so humiliating. You’re once again airing your private matters in front of him Ishigami Senku. You want to say it’s fully Gen’s fault, but it really isn’t. He wouldn’t have done any of that if you just weren’t so damn pathetic and ended things back then. But you didn’t and here you are, with Gen basically confessing your feelings for another man in your stead. Gen is so kind you might just cry.

Ryusui evidently notices that something is amiss, so he does a thing you don’t expect: he apologizes back. For absolutely no reason, too. “I apologize, we didn’t mean to upset you, [Name].” His words are confusing, but they vaguely make sense, all things considered. Still, you are glad that Ryusui is kind enough to shed light on what exactly is happening. “You were on the list. We just have a bet going and I wanted to win.”

Oh, well, you should have expected this one to be a product of your resident Gamblers Anonymous association. Especially with how many bets on Ryusui and Reina you have gone through in your time. With Ryusui’s own admittedly brilliant performance and Kohaku and Reina’s overzealous investment, you guess it’s evident that it is yet another wager. Just not really clear on what exactly. You’d think everyone is tired of Gamblers Anonymous meetings concerning you and Gen at this point, but apparently it’s not the case.

“Did you win, at least?” You ask. Ryusui nods, grinning. You can’t even be mad, he’s just that perfect in his dirty, materialistic ways. You just never expected him to participate but it’s on you for underestimating the first-born son of capitalism. “Please never change, Ryusui-kun.”

You bid Ryusui goodbye, swearing to learn to swim soon. He lets you go with a promise of holding you to it. You hide in the lab to mix some scopolamine just in case some members of the crew don’t have strong enough sea legs to brace through this short trip to (allegedly) the Ryukyu Island. You also try your absolute best to not chew on the raw devil trumpets or think why exactly they’re there in the laid up on the lab desk as if waiting for you.

Maybe it is just Gen’s real punishment for disrupting your convenient arrangement. To let you think you are off the hook, coax you into this sense of safety just to pull a fast one on you at the very last moment. You betrayed the trust he put in you with this unlabeled something you two created, so he went out of the way to ruin your life. The only way to actually hurt you is not physical pain but to completely shatter someone’s high expectations of you. To make them see you for what you are: a pathetic, attention-seeking girl yearning to be chosen and desperately trying to prove her own worth to authority figures of any kind. And Senku finding out you’re into him like that is very much high on the list of reputation-destroying experiences.

Your stupid feelings aside, Gen just probably ruined one of the best friendships you have ever had simply because you two are stupid and don’t know how to behave like a well-adjusted human beings. True to your father’s words, your thought process is too skewed to be allowed to make any sort of decisions, especially those that impact other people. But as much as you want to shift all the blame on Gen for getting you to this point, you also need to hold yourself accountable for your own actions.

Gen is foolish for wanting to drag this nonsense of his out, but you are guilty of not stopping him before he crossed that line. You also need to lock yourself in the jail cell with Hyoga and Homura for allowing this relationship between you to exist in the first place. You deserve to spend eternity tortured by their presence just to repent the fact that you let Gen talk you into keeping things goin. It is fun while in the privacy of the four walls, that’s for sure. But the two of you aren’t compatible in the grand scheme of things, being after completely opposite things in life.

Maybe Komugi is right, after all. You two are a terrible match and continuing whatever it is that you have with Gen is a bad idea. True to his words, despite your ‘no leashes attached’ agreement you two are still just a hazard together sometimes. Or maybe not despite it, but because of it. Which is ironic, as in the moments like these being involved with him in such a way feels like being tied to a ball and chain. You can’t walk away even if you want to because this unspoken something is just convenient enough and against all odds you do care about Asagiri Gen. Be it platonic or otherwise, you love the guy the same way you love all your friends.

And even if it marks the end of your nightly mistakes at last, as things are clearly leading to it from what you can see, at least you still have the girls. You’d never be alone as long as you have them, and you will do your best to make yourself scarce during the trip to not make things awkward with Senku and then keep to yourself when you come back to Honshu. You aren’t about to sabotage the workflow with this useless drama, and you aren’t about to make things difficult for anyone by having so-called troubles in paradise with Gen. Yes, you may miss on the most interesting part of the whole search for Why-Man, but it’s not like you actually contribute anything worthwhile to the table. They’d succeed with or without you and Gen is far too useful to not utilize. It would probably be easier without you around, anyway.

You are so damn frustrated, but you don’t want to cry right now. Kohaku will start asking questions and the last thing you want is for Gen to end up swimming with the fishes because he upset you a little. So you bite your cheek with your canines until your teeth connect with a sharp pang running through your jaw. Your blood still tastes like you: bitter and salty. Mashiro’s is still an aftertaste of home: coins of good luck and lab reports. Gen’s blood is a little on the sour side, like burnt oranges and the moment right before you pass out.

Pinching your nose, you hold your breath before your heart rings in your ears, and you feel this familiar choking sensation that forces your mouth to open. Fighting it is pointless, you know it. A human can never suffocate like that, self-preservation instinct won’t let them hold their breath for too long. And even if you somehow overcome the will of your own brain, you will just start breathing again after you pass out. But it’s really the dizziness that you are after, anyway. The numbness, the lightheadedness, the tingling of pins and needles. A healthy adult can hold their breath for up to two minutes. You can bruteforce it to three before your oxygen-hungry lungs force your brain to open your mouth. A deep, greedy gasp is not enough to satisfy either of them. It seems that you are still lacking in self-control department. Go figure.

Sometimes you wish Gen just left you as a slab of stone.

The door to the lab car creaks, light footsteps cracking over the wooden floorboards. You don’t lift your head from the extractor, even if you still anxiously shuffle in your little foldable chair. “I’m not in the mood to talk, Gen,” you say, more resigned than furious. “You went overboard and I don’t want to see you right now.”

You aren’t really ready to face Gen just yet. Be it out of fear or out of anger, both are equally unpleasant right now. But with how quiet he is right now, you guess he feels some sort of remorse, so you at least can remove the eunuch betraying the empress from the equation. Just some good old doing too much, after all. Not about to become your father’s daughter in such a tight space, you decide to focus on medicine instead. It’s some dangerous stuff you are working with, anyway.

You really hope they don’t need to use scopolamine too often. Devil’s trumpet is still extremely toxic, and dangerous if handled incorrectly. You know a thing or two, so nobody is going to meet their untimely demise just yet. But some careless mishandling can lead to severe, long-lasting effects and in some cases even death. And you really don’t want to deal with the famous mnemonic used for the symptoms of anticholinergic syndrome. Blind as a bat, mad as a hatter, red as a beet, hot as a hare, dry as a bone, the bowel and bladder lose their tone, and the heart runs alone. You aren’t Alice and this isn’t Wonderland, but you sure feel crazy.

You are definitely insane because it’s not Gen who’s sitting next to you. “What’s his deal these days?” Senku asks, a little exasperated airiness to his tone. You clench your fingers over the pipette until your knuckles cramp, and you finally turn to look at Senku. He’s watching you work, leaning down to rest his head on his outstretched arm. A bad idea, considering the chemicals you’re dealing with, but if he wants to lie on the desk then who are you to stop him. “This is getting out of hand.”

“No clue,” you lie. Senku didn’t bring up the underlying context of what Gen said, so you aren’t going to mention it either. You doubt Senku missed the implications, but he’s clearly giving you a way out and you will take it. This friendship is more important to you than any feelings you have towards him. And he rudely rejected people for way less, so he obviously cares about your relationship enough to just say nothing at all. “And I know, I’m sorry... I’ll reason with him somehow, I promise.”

Senku sighs, fingers drumming lightly over the surface of the desk. Tense jaw and squared shoulders, whatever your friend is thinking about must be one hell of a dilemma, although it seems like he manages to figure it out after a while. Somehow uncomfortable yet very in character determined, Senku clicks his tongue as if finally deciding that whatever he wants to say is worth the awkwardness.

“Look, you know I’m not the one to stick my nose in stuff like that but…” Senku begins, straightening himself in his seat just to rub the nape of his neck to distract himself from the out-of-his-depth conversation. “You two are clearly having issues but I don’t want your personal life to interfere with our work.” You can’t stop yourself from snorting, almost knocking the extractor over in the process. Of course, that’s what Dr. Science over here is worried about. Not like you’re any better, really. “You two seem to be focused on completely different things, so either talk it out or whatever. I don’t care. Just make sure I have you at your ten billion percent working power.”

You blink, trying to process what exactly Senku meant by that. Although if even Ishigami Senku has the need to mention you being out of it because of all the nonsense you seem to have going on with Gen from time to time, then it must be true. Still, you can’t help but feel a little offended. You always put all of yourself into work, personal life or not. But then again, Senku did say that you and Gen are focused on two different things. Not like Gen is slacking off from his own tasks, either. It’s just that he has a lot more free time on his hands than you do because of the delicate nature of what he does. Which is keeping up the morale, making sure your brain doesn’t turn into mush, and ruining your life on the side. But the last one is neither here nor there.

“You always have me at my ten billion percent everything, Senku,” you mutter, a tad bit too grumpy for your own liking. Then you realize just how odd what you said really sounds and try your best to save face by making sure you couldn’t be taken out of context. “I don’t half-ass things like that, you know that.”

Senku clears his throat, his hand still scratching away at the back of his neck. You have half a mind to tell him to stop before he irritates the skin too much. It’s already flushed enough and you really don’t want him to accidentally get devil trumpet’s pollen into an open wound of any kind. Luckily for you Senku returns to tapping against the glass of the desk. He’s really fidgety today, huh. Gen really got on his last nerve, it looks like. Well, that makes the two of you, really.

“I know,” Senku says matter-of-factly. “Just making sure we have our priorities straight.”

“Let’s not get patronizing now, Senku.” You huff, still a tiny bit wound up. “Of course, we do.”

Why wouldn’t you? It’s his cause before everything else. That’s why you’re here in the first place; he knows how to keep things exciting. Everything that comes along the way is just an added bonus, or an unfortunate circumstance. Whichever it is, doesn’t really matter. The goal has always been the same: find Why-Man and revive humanity. Interpersonal drama is very much a pale shadow in comparison to the lives of seven billion people.

Damn it, Gen. Just because the three of you promised to go to hell together, doesn’t mean he needs to speedrun it there before you and Senku. Or maybe it’s you alone who’s going there first. All you really needed to do was refusing when he asked you if he could be selfish. You wanted to run away so damn badly, so why didn’t you do it? You wouldn’t have been here in this mess if you did. That’s it. You really need to talk to Gen. No distractions or flowery prose. Gen either stops this meddling nonsense or whoever the two of you are become nothing at all.

“Cool,” Senku nods back. “So, scopolamine…” he says, pointing at the extractor with his free hand.

The frantic rhythm of Senku’s tapping comes to a sudden haul just as you realize an extremely important thing about you and Gen. All the uncertainty and confusion aside, Asagiri Gen will always hide behind his flowers even if you ask him to talk. He said so himself that time in the car, he will always lie. And you, most of the time, simply don’t want to know. Because not asking is easier than being disappointed in yourself once more. And the worst thing is that you’d rather stay here with Ishigami Senku fooling around with anticholinergic agents than clear the air with Gen at all. Says a lot about you and Gen’s excellent communication.

This begs the question: aside from guessing and deduction, do you even communicate in the first place?

hii, 8.3k words here.

sorry for missing the posting day. i needed to make an author's note but couldn't be bothered. even this one will be shorter. have fun. cyaa next week when i remember this fic exists

[kii-nami]

sorry to all the zero of you who reads codex. i didn't post yesterday bc i needed to write an author's note but i couldn't be bothered

[kii-nami]

CONTENTS: VOLUME 17: ON HANGOVERS, BIBLICAL GREED, AND SCHEMING REPENTANCE

You are looking for Kohaku when you hear suspicious cracking coming from the lab and decide to investigate. Chrome is in there alone, tinkering with what looks like a metal detector. You guess Senku’s reinvention of sonar and radar inspired the most ingenious scientist of the fifty-eighth century into some discoveries of his own. Spotting you leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a content smile of an older sister far too proud of her younger, far more innovative brother, Chrome greets you and ushers you inside to showcase his new invention.

As enthusiastic as he is about seeing you around these parts, it’s evident that Chrome has something more on his mind than just crackling of metal. You congratulate him on reinventing a metal detector, and Chrome deflates, once again dejected by not being able to discover anything new. You understand this frustration of his very well, you’ve been there far too many times before not to recognize the light dimming in his eyes for what is it. You know how exactly it feels to feel inferior to others, and you’ll be damned before you let someone like Chrome to think he’s anything other than one of the most intelligent people you had the honor of meeting.

Regretful of being so careless with your words when praising him, you pat Chrome on the back with all the strength you can muster and admit the truth that you think Chrome needs to hear. It takes skill, insight, and experience to reintroduce twenty-first century luxuries to the world built on stone, but it takes far more than just a little cleverness to visualize those very things with no prior knowledge of their existence. For that alone you think Chrome is far more impressive than he gives himself credit for.

Chrome, clearly flustered by your honesty, grumbles animatedly that you need to stop babying him. You laugh, recalling that you said the exact same thing once before to Mashiro before she smothered you against her chest. You can’t do that to Chrome, but you can surely ruffle his hair and ask what exactly he’s planning to do with his new baaad metal detector. He invites you to be a part of his exploration team. You really feel like ethically slacking off just a little bit, so you agree. Naturally.

With his new invention Chrome ends up discovering an iron deposit and sending your technocracy into the age of industrial mining. You do your best to negotiate with Ryusui and make sure Chrome gets at least a percentage of the newly established mine’s profits. The sailor agrees on thirty-seventy in his favor but only if you do something for him for free. Ryusui’s request is a rather unabashed thing, and it makes you wonder whether Reina would even agree to this, but it’s more than enough for you to say yes.

Fingers laced with yours, Gen brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, slyly calling you a Good Samaritan as if it’s not the biggest lie you’ve ever heard him spew. You are selfish to the core, and Gen is very much aware of it, but his comment is only there to bring attention to the fact that you haven’t asked for even a dime despite being there with Chrome at the moment the detector pinged. Falling for Gen’s ploy, Ryusui asks why you aren’t negotiating a share for yourself.

With a shake of your head, you evade them both by admitting the truth. It’s a deeply selfish sort of investment. People like Chrome are your future, it would have meant the world to you if someone put their faith in you like that when you needed it the most. Ryusui laughs, as loud as always, and says that he wants you as his business partner. Gen gasps, offended on your behalf, wailing that he thought that you already were and how cruel it is of him to say such things to a tender-hearted lady. You snort.

Not in the mood for whatever it is that Gen has in mind, you lightly slap the back of his head to shut him up and then wave at Kohaku to catch her attention. She’s too busy being wooed by your resident Shibuya girl to pay you any mind, but you can’t even be mad at her for that. Reina snickers, throwing her arm over your shoulder to whisper something about denial being a river in Egypt. Cackling, you agree. Kohaku is far too flustered for someone who claims to be indifferent to Komugi’s cool girl charms. She’s an absolutely blushing mess, even. You can’t be any happier for her. It just makes you a little sad for some unknown reason, that’s all. You don’t have much time to spend together as just girls these days, and you miss some good old-fashioned gossip over a glass of wine. Is it a good time for you to admit you’ve been experimenting with brewing gin?

You call out to Ryusui, beckoning him to come closer and whisper in his ear, “How about our first ever fifty-fifty deal?”

Ryusui grins, laughing. “What do you have in mind, [Name]?”

You and Ryusui finish up the spa-onsen type situation right in time for Senku and his team to wrap up paving the roads between the most important landmarks. Then you hire Francois for catering and gather all the girls for a nice evening out. The rules are simple: come to relax, enjoy your drinks, don’t talk about men. Whoever brings up a man of any kind in any way in the conversation has to drink a shot of [Name]-mandated death concoction. It’s something that can leave even people like you slurring their words after a while, so they should already have an idea of how strong that thing actually is.

Komugi laughs, fully believing that every single woman here is strong enough to pass the Bechdel test. Reina snickers, knowing that she can name at least one person at the top of her head who will end up bringing Tsukasa up after a glass or two. Confused by the conditions, Suika asks why you aren’t allowed to talk about boys, and you are quick to offer her a glass of juice and tell her she’s allowed to do anything she wants. Your baby is special like that. Then Francois opens the door, wheeling in a cart with tonight’s appetizers and the conversation strays in a completely different direction.

It’s a beautiful evening. The water is hot, the drinks are delicious, the company is spectacular. Minami shares some of the more ridiculous tidbits from her journalist days and when she finds out that Ruri is a priestess, she is eager to hear at least one of the stories from the Hundred Tales. You try warning her that she shouldn’t be asking such things. You spent over a week listening to every single one of those, out of your own volition, too. You know just how long-winded Byakuya’s tales are, especially in Ruri’s flowery arrangements.

Unfortunately, Minami ignores your warnings, thinking you’re joking. Yuzuriha chimes in, saying that it’s a great idea to hear a tale or two. Nikki ruffles Suika’s damp hair and offers her to pick a story she thinks is the best. Unsurprisingly to you, the girl chooses Tale Eleven because it has a forgetful cat named Suika, who gets tricked into sticking her paws in a fire. Two hours in, Ruri is only halfway through the plot, and everyone regrets ever asking anything.

Borderline wilting away, Komugi smoothly switches the topic to modern music, Reina then gives a not-so-brief crash course on Bad Bunny and they unexpectedly bond over their shared love of reggaeton. Francois silently offers them their first ever [Name]-bomb of the night and Komugi links their elbows to hit those in a brüderschaft. A bad idea, Reina starts coughing the second the alcohol hits her throat, and you cackle, asking Francois to make you one just to show those weaklings how it’s really done.

By the end of the night Minami and Ruri are drunk out of their minds, with the journalist hanging off of the priestess and sobbing over her woeful love life. Kohaku and Komugi are making out in the back, having at least some decency to not do this in front of Suika. Nikki is getting teased for being far too cute when drunk by an equally wasted Reina. You and Yuzuriha are the only ones to actually stay relatively sober, distracting Suika from the mess happening at the back by smothering her with affection. It’s a shame your tolerance is so damn high, you wanted to forget your romance drama at least for the night.

Despite Japan’s stance on tips, you pay Francois triple of what you agreed upon just for emotional damages caused by your drunk friends. They suggest putting a stop to your fun night out before someone gets sick and then kindly offer to take Suika and Ruri home. Yuzuriha chimes in right after, promising that she will deliver Nikki and Minami to their room safely. Ryusui comes to pick Reina up when it appears that the girl can’t exactly stand straight and you wrap your night up. You give Ryusui a pat on the back and wish him the best of luck, offhandedly mentioning that he should organize a boys’ night out too before the winter hits you full force. He nods in agreement, lifting Reina up and waving you goodbye.

You have half a mind to knock on Gen’s door to ask a question that has been bothering you for a while now before deciding to keep your dignity. He won’t give you a straight answer, and hanakotoba or guessing games simply won’t cut it when it comes to this. It also saves you from an awkward walk of shame tomorrow morning, too. It’s for the best to keep your distance, at least for today.

With that you return home to an empty space. Admittedly, you mix yourself fifteen [Name]-bombs to make up for the fact that you thought about one particular man fifteen separate times. Not really done tormenting yourself, you pour another one just for the fact that it wasn’t even Asagiri Gen who you were thinking about. Then you puke your guts out, load yourself with an egregious amount of water, and fall asleep in your room, all alone.

The next day your headache is so crippling, you can barely stand up. Gen drops by like a snooping fox he is, checking on why exactly you are missing out on some world-shaping events. Against your better judgement wailing in your head like an upcoming air strike warning, you allow the mentalist to nurse you back to health just this once.

All the hidden  meaning behind the little teasing remarks he makes about your having a bit too much fun last night go right over your head. All you can focus on is the nauseating, erratic thumping of his heart under your ear and the crease in between his eyebrows that forms when Gen thinks you aren’t looking. You must be quite a bother today, for Gen to be so upset. You apologize for being a nuisance, trying to separate yourself from him and start on with your day, even if it’s already noon.

Gen holds you down with an unusually strong grip, then gets up himself to bring you a bottle of water before joining you in bed again. He forces you to drink all of it, muttering something about cute girls drinking too much for it to be healthy. You guess it’s his own way of saying he’s worried about your drinking habits, or maybe it’s something else that’s bothering him. Too bad he can’t say that outright. Too bad there’s no point in asking. You have no excuses to offer him for this, anyway, so you don’t lament his inability to communicate even now. Just tell Gen that he should go, he’s far too valuable to be wasting his time on you.

“I never waste my ecious-pray time on anyone, [Name]-chan,” Gen says, his face contorting with a pretend offense. “Men like me would never bet on a losing horse, you know that.”

You chuckle, even if it makes your head crack in a way you imagine a lobotomy would ache like. It doesn’t even hurt as much as you just want to puke all that water and acid out every time you move. Asagiri Gen is nothing but a dirty liar. But maybe it’s a sign from the universe to ask Senku for a leucotome and an orbitoclast. You bite your lip, fighting yet another wave of nausea. Not a day without that guy popping somewhere in your thoughts, especially after that unfinished talk you had with Gen a month ago. Or that question you never voiced.

You guess it’s because you and Senku haven’t been really talking these days, too busy with your own stuff. You are also pretty sure you were too crass with your refusal back then, too. But you don’t exactly have the time to ask Senku if he’s upset with you, not that you think he cares about stuff like that too much. It’s not like you are avoiding him out of guilt or whatever it is Gen insinuated later. Not at all. But you still sometimes like to loop that conversation back in your head, trying to decipher what exactly Gen meant by that absurd question of his. You also just end up frustrating yourself in the process, so you are trying your best to just let it go and heed Gen’s advice of not overthinking yourself into self-sabotage.

For better or for worse, you trust Asagiri Gen with your life. Even if some people think that Gen is some frivolous, despicable sort of person who might cheat left and right the second he gets bored, you know this to be factually untrue. Gen wouldn’t involve himself with someone like that unless he sees some sort of a future in it. But then again, he did say it’s nothing serious. You aren’t together. No leashes attached to either you or him, the two of you are allowed to do whatever the hell you want. Gen made it extremely clear to you before and it’s been a long time, if he wanted to put labels on this, he would have. There’s a reason he called himself a hazard. It’s you who’s really the problem here, it seems. Making such a big deal out of it.

Whatever it is that you have with Asagiri Gen is more confusing than quantum physics. Only quantum mechanics don’t leave you guessing. Gen does.

At least you can use Senku to change the subject. “What is the winning horse up to today?”

“The Kingdom’s dearly beloved, precious, darling mentalist Gen-chan is doing splendidly, thank you for asking.” Gen gasps, utterly shellshocked, and then has to quickly resort to damage control when you hiss at just how loud he is.

With a dissatisfied click of his tongue, Gen tugs you closer and rests his chin on your shoulder. Thump. Thump. Thump. Despite dextrocardia not being inherently detrimental to someone’s health, Gen still has a very weak heart. It’s always in a state of arrhythmia, be it the tachycardia or otherwise. You worry about him sometimes. With how fast it’s beating right now, you’d think he’s going into a cardiac arrest. Fortunately for you, it’s just Gen feeling nervous for whatever reason. Or excited. Maybe both. No matter what, you are not prepared for either of those right now.

“You do care a lot about Senku-chan, huh…” Gen mutters when you push through his whining without reacting. It’s neither judging nor sarcastic, Gen is simply stating a fact. But it’s the notion that he even brings this up in the first place that is pretty suspicious. Or maybe it’s nothing and Gen just wants to elevate the mood by making a joke at Senku’s expense. “Those innocent science boy charms of his sure are showstopping. Uly-tray a scene-stealer, that one.”

You laugh, even if it rings in your ears with the heavy drumming of rocks against metal. “Would be weird if I didn’t, wouldn’t it?” You ask, expecting Gen to understand the answer to this question already. Everyone here sticks around because of Ishigami Senku, even if a better chunk of you got revived by Tsukasa’s hand. “Senku is Senku. It’s hard not to like him.”

“Is that so…” Gen hums in a noncommittal yet contemplative sort of way, a twinge of amusement lingering to his vowels. You guess you should have worded yourself better. Maybe saying that it’s difficult to hate Ishigami Senku would have made your sentence seem more neutral in nature. Now you can almost hear the gears in Gen’s head turning, trying to come up with something to hold over you just for fun. “Now this eally-ray makes me wonder who you love more, Gen or Senku.”

Gen giggles right into your ear, nothing but a silly hypothetical to get you back for constantly calling Senku his first option. You guess it’s fair, you just don’t really understand what is there to pick. You also can’t disregard the way Gen escalates whatever the loving fuck you have into love, so you push it further. “Gen, we literally slept together,” you huff, deadpan. Both of you know it’s not really the answer to the question but neither of you brings it up. You are glad. You don’t think you can admit the real answer even with a gun pressed to your head. Chances are, you will enjoy getting shot, anyway. “That’s already pushing it.”

Partially tired, partially annoyed that Gen once again is trying to milk you for something you aren’t aware of, you sigh. It’s heavy. You can still taste the last night’s alcohol on your tongue even after brushing your teeth and rinsing your mouth more times than you can count. Which is a lot. So many words exchanged, yet nothing has been stated clearly. What kind of conversation is this even?

“Trust me, I’m aware,” Gen admits.

It’s a bit unclear whether Gen thinks you like him too much by getting involved with him like that, or if he deems himself undeserving of it. Gen knows you are watching, the paranoid fool that you are, so he keeps his emotions on an extremely tight leash. But his tone reeks of smug self-satisfaction and he does his best at disrupting your thought process by rubbing distracting circles over the skin of your hip. It’s a little overstimulating right now, but Gen also nothing if not a master of his craft. He’s keeping your senses in the constant state of overdrive just so he can take a bite off of you. Off-track with trying to stop yourself from grinding your teeth, you almost forget what this conversation is even about.

“But you need to try a bit arder-hay to catch up to my level,” he chastises you, a tad bit too theatrical. Gen pats your head as some sort of pity award for even daring to compete against him in Desire Olympics as if Ryusui hasn’t already won that one. Then he proceeds with preaching to the choir by praising himself to high heavens. “I won’t hold it against you if you can’t, though. Not everyone is as essed-blay as me.”

You know he’s actually joking, yet some part of you can’t help but wonder if you aren’t doing enough to show your emotions. Maybe you should be more affectionate in public even if you already are pretty lenient with stuff like that considering the nature of your non-relationship. Maybe you should discard all unnecessary doubt itching under your skin and ask if Gen is up for some lighthearted titles. You don’t get it yourself sometimes, why you never want to ask when you are so terribly uncomfortable with noncommitment.

You want to say that it’s something that you don’t care about but that would be a lie. You want some certainty and stability in your life when it comes to Gen, but you won’t be the one asking any questions. You might be pathetic but not to that extent, you won’t ever be groveling at the feet of a man begging for labels. It’s Gen’s job to make an effort. But then again, Gen clearly has no issues with whatever you have. He doesn’t as much as ponder over it, so there must be something wrong with you again.

You guess you are just feeling a little bit inadequate about romance, still, however frivolous your affair may be. Reina has no issues with things moving fast. And here you are, still trying to figure out why you are so on the fence about even thinking of putting labels on this non-relationship. All while you and Gen have been involved for longer than Reina even knew Ryusui, to boot. Komugi seems to have zero issues with dropping on her knees at any given moment to ramble about her feelings for Kohaku to anyone, too. Doesn’t matter if they’re willing to listen or not. Judging by that alone, you guess there’s always room for improvement for your own commitment skills. Or maybe you are overthinking this again and Gen is just teasing you for worrying over something he doesn’t care about even one bit. That’s it, right? Damn it.

You run your tongue over your lip, trying to mentally shake off any unwelcome thoughts. Then you laugh, poking Gen in the crack on his neck. “Were you actually stalking me?”

“Who knows…” Gen answers coyly. As cryptic as he is trying to sound right now, you both are aware that he knows the answer to this question. Still, you don’t pry, allowing him to keep the mystery going. It’s more fun like that, anyway. If you really want to know then you just ask Komugi. Gen is aware, that’s why he changes the subject. “Let me tell you about this azy-cray thing that happened today, you won’t believe…”

Apparently while you are busy wallowing in hangover, some complications with the ship occur. Senku is ready to give up the idea just to not overwork Kaseki, opting to switch to a little yacht with a smaller crew instead. This gets Ryusui so riled up, he agrees to help out with the ship’s construction for free just because that ship is something he wants to have. Admirable, but Senku just basically sold the whole thing to Ryusui and that’s how the sailor swindled you for the first time since that time with Oilgate.

That being said, you decide neither Senku nor Gen should be allowed to talk business without your chaperoning them. You get yourself together and show up to this evening’s war room meeting as if nothing happened and offer your help with drawing the blueprint. Ryusui is extremely meticulous with his instructions, and you can’t be happier about just how pedantic he is about things he’s passionate about. You finish the whole thing before you even know it and Senku gives you one of those knowing looks of his.

Arms folded over his chest, Senku nods toward the desk, as if telling you that he’s right and you are wrong. You still stand firm on the fact that you should not be here unless Kohaku is also present, so Senku can’t change your mind. This is only a one-time thing, just so Ryusui’s ethical capitalism doesn’t bleed you dry, nothing more. Still, you apologize for reacting as harshly as you did back then, truly remorseful for upsetting him if you actually did. Senku says it’s nothing. You call the shots here, after all, and he can’t force you into something you don’t want. Some part of you wishes he’d be pushier. Another, rational part, disregards that whim entirely.

Winter slows your progress tremendously, but everyone uses this as a time of respite. With Kohaku and Komugi progressing their relationship at an average lesbian speed, you move in with Ruri and Suika just to regain some sense of normalcy that you have been missing recently. The priestess is grateful to have company that is able to withstand her longwinded, flowery tangents and Suika is ecstatic to have you living with them. Turning your now empty room into an art studio is just an added bonus on top of seeing your friends so happy. With some private space available at last, you finish up that nude portrait commission Ryusui requested when you bargained for Chrome’s share of the mine profits, too. Then you spend the rest of your free time soaking up in onsen with the girls and Komugi finally opens up a little live music bar when Senku does get to making that audio recorder.

Francois takes care of the Christmas KFC this time around and a week later you welcome the new year by watching the sunrise again. In the meantime, you wrack your brain over what exactly someone like Senku would want as a birthday present. You don’t think you can top Gen’s telescope, you are far too incompetent for any actually useful technology. What you are the best at is basically useless for everyone but yourself, so you return to what you know moderately well.

It’s nothing much, but Taiju gives you an earnest stamp of best friend approval when you ask him if he’s willing to help you out. Then you spend a lot of your time listening to Yuzuriha and Taiju describing how Byakuya looked and you come to realize that you were right. Your brain remembers him far younger than he is. This portrait is way more accurate and you almost don’t feel the intense itch of wrongness when you look at it. Everyone celebrates Senku’s birthday with another one of Reina’s signature parties and you once more skip the festivities, opting to have a drink for him in solitude instead. Then when the party is over, you leave the present you prepared for him on the desk in the lab and go back to sleep, cuddling up to Suika to keep yourself sane.

The next morning the little note of apology for doing a lousy job the first time is gone from the desk along with the Kaseki-approved picture frame. Nobody is asking any questions about any old man portraits going misplaced, so you count it as a success. But even if someone else did find it, everyone is far too busy with having the time of their life skiing and snowboarding to care for stuff like that.

You hate the cold and prefer staying inside but Kohaku manages to talk you into joining them. You concede just this once, but mostly to see if you have any luck at this. Evidently a terrible idea, as ultimately the day ends in a fiasco when Kohaku speeds past you at a hundred per hour just to win a race against Komugi. Only this spooks the hell out of Reina, and she ends up gliding off course and straight into you. Gen pushes you out of the way just in time to avoid a gruesome collision, but it is just out of the frying pan, into the fire. The momentum sends you toppling down the hill and head-first into the snow. Or, technically, it’s Senku who is on the receiving end of the initial fall. Only him being a damn nice cushion doesn’t mean much, you still tumble down the hillside until you hit even ground and ultimately get to survive and live another day.

Near death experiences aside, there are only so many romcom moments you can take before you give up on life, and that’s already your second ditzy-rejected-love-interest incident in the span of a couple of years. That’s two too many for you to be comfortable, really. You lift your head, catching Senku already looking at you. Flushed face and erratic breath, he’s staring you down unblinkingly. Suddenly you aren’t as cold anymore. You apologize profusely before scurrying to your feet and almost falling back down just because of those damn skis. Senku grinds his teeth, tugging you back onto the ground to unfasten the ski bindings and set you free from your humiliation chamber.

“What the hell happened?” Senku is asking some profound questions here, really.

You are about to answer that you aren’t exactly sure yourself, but it’s most definitely because Kohaku is a bit too enthusiastic about any sort of physical activity, especially involving her equally competitive girlfriend. Only then you spot Gen rushing up to your crash site, over-the-top concerned mask planted over his features. He stops near the two of you and you realize that yes, Gen is definitely not in the slightest bit worried about your life almost ending abruptly in such a boring way. Everything falls into place but at a cost of doubting Gen’s rational thinking. Why would he push you like that on purpose? What the hell is wrong with him these days?

“Oh, thank goodness you’re okay,” Gen hollers theatrically, dropping on his knees next to you and hugging you tightly until you are almost sure you go a little blue to the face. “I thought Reina-chan would run you aight-stray through, so I pushed you out of the way.”

“Gen, you bastard,” Senku snaps and you feel the shiver run down your spine. It’s definitely not the cold, that’s for sure. It’s oddly reminiscent of that time at the lab when your inferiority complex combined with doubt and got the best of you, so you took too much time dilly dallying, instead of bringing up the issue. Senku is furious. Understandably so. He just almost lost his life right before finishing with the ship because of Gen’s moronic scheme. You would be angry too, if you were him. Only then Senku opens his mouth again and you aren’t sure if you are allowed to feel the way you do about him saying what he does; the way he does it. “You could’ve killed her.”

“Did I eally-ray?” Gen gasps, not a slightest bit terrified over the notion of Senku’s anger being directed towards him. Truly an apex predator, this one. Either that or he has no concept of self-preservation. But if even you can recognize that some dangers are just not worth the fun, then Gen must just be putting ‘mental’ in ‘mentalist’. Or there’s something for him to gain from agitating Senku this way. Either, or. “I am so sorry, [Name]-chan.” Gen still hoots and hollers, weeping his crocodile tears and spewing his empty apologies. Then he just outright admits to his crimes, but it’s just vague enough to be misinterpreted by those who know him a little less than you do. Whatever Gen is after, he surely gets it, however. “We are so lucky Senku-chan was there. I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

 “Gen, please shut up,” you interrupt before it can get any worse. “I am not doing this again.”

Senku nods in understanding, still a little tense yet way less heated. Gen wails in protest, promising that the next time will be way more fun. You leave before the taste of blood on your tongue fades, and you can ask what exactly it is there for Gen to gain from all of this. But you know that something is wrong. Not just with your relationship with Gen in and outside of your affair, but also with you in general. It has been wrong for months now, but you can’t just put your finger on it yet.

You think you need to figure it out sooner rather than later, but you aren’t really sure if you want to get to the bottom of this. There are always two sides to one coin just like there are two sides of the same blade. Certainty is stability; a thing that keeps you sane and grounded. Routine, however, is comfort. And it’s a very dangerous thing for someone like you, as it is deceiving. Breaking that routine is destroying what little normalcy you have built for yourself amidst a literal apocalypse. And as much as you yearn for danger, desperately holding on to comfort is also a type of poison. And you will be chugging it by the gallons up until you choke on it and die. A boring death, but the one that is probable.

When you do figure out what’s exactly wrong with you, the world does not stop spinning. Neither do you die, but you do come exceptionally close to a heart attack. It’s probably because people like to sneak up on you from behind these days. They think it’s funny to watch the cat jump up and hiss at them. You aren’t particularly threatening, after all.

You grip the edge of the work desk, your breath stuttering as the loud clank rings through the clinic. You guess that’s what you get for falling asleep on the job, but sometimes a girl needs a little cat nap to pacify her racing thoughts. Better to slip into slumber than into erratic overthinking. Too bad Ishigami Senku is hovering over you right now, rapping his knuckles on the desk right next to your head.

“Do you want me dead or something?” Your question sounds rather hostile right now, but you don’t really mean any harm.

“Got a minute, doc?” Senku asks casually. A bit too offhandedly, really. Especially considering he went out of his way to come to your clinic and then to wake you up when he could have sent you a mail via a certain mentalist. Or make a PSA through your brand-new radio station. But you guess it’s still through Gen, since he’s the one in charge of that thing. But just because Senku isn’t outright panicking doesn’t mean nothing is wrong. “Need a second opinion on something.”

And here it is. “What’s wrong?” You speak frantically, a complete opposite of Senku’s cool and collected.

Then you straighten yourself, smoothing the creases of your lab coat before wiping the last drops of sleep from your eyes. It doesn’t really do much, you are still half asleep even if you are twice as awake as you were just a second ago. Funny, the only time you allow yourself to take a nap, it instantly backfires on you. Just how unlucky are you?

Senku rolls his eyes, a little tired of your erratic behavior. “Nothing happened, chill,” he assures you right before you decide to stand up from your chair, but the way he does it just rubs you the wrong way. Senku really has some nerve. To be all mildly annoyed over the issue he caused in the first place. You have half a mind to start fuming before he places a suspicious paper bag on the desk in front of you. “Try it. I need to know if it’s any good.”

You blink up at him, a little confused. What exactly is in there that is important enough for Senku to need a taste tester? You are pretty sure he doesn’t dabble in poison, that’s your forte. And Senku also refused to cook meth with you, so there aren’t many other options unless he’s trying to steal your warm spot under the sun and become your rival medicine or cosmetics business. Well, you won’t know unless you open the package. And as much as you find the idea of Schrödinger’s methamphetamine hilarious, Senku needs you to do something, so you will.

Carefully picking up the paper bag you give the contents of it a good sniff, only to be hit with the familiar yet a little off-kilter aroma of cocoa beans and artificial vanilla. “Is this chocolate?” You ask, now a lot less worried but far too excited for your own good.

It’s a pointless question, too, because you can recognize the scent anywhere, even if it’s clearly a lab-grown phenomenon. You are just a fan of sweet things, that’s all. It’s all about phenylethylamine, and theobromine, and tryptophan, and a lot of other fun things. In other words, you are an addict. But it’s Senku’s own fault for bringing [Name]-shaped drugs to your doorstep, so he has no right to be pulling any disgusted faces at you. Especially not faces like the one Senku has right now. Is it that weird to see you excited about some things other than deadly chemicals?

You swallow, suddenly a little hesitant. It’s still too early for any holidays or any important birthdays for Senku to be pulling out the big guns. And he didn’t even invite you in on the creation of the prototype, too, just decided to hoard all the fun for himself this time around. Senku can be so greedy sometimes, no wonder he and Ryusui get along so well for the most part. Senku is watching you rather impatiently, as well. It just adds to this inconvenient tension you have going on here. But you guess you are wasting his time right now by overthinking his intentions. Damn it, this used to be way easier before when you constantly mulled over your every single word. What happened for things to get complicated the moment you finally untied your wretched tongue?

“What’s the occasion?” You ask, then try joking to dispel some awkwardness. “Is this an assassination attempt? Am I being honorably discharged from the Craftsmanship and Development team?”

Your joke doesn’t land. Not at all. It’s not really noticeable and you wouldn’t have picked it up if Senku weren’t still leaning on the desk, but that close proximity is enough for you to catch the split second in which he almost looks genuinely upset. “Should there be reason?” He huffs, uncharacteristically defensive. “Can’t I just give you chocolate?”

Well, it’s not that Senku can’t, per se. It’s that he has no reason to and you haven’t done anything particularly outstanding recently other than survive a tumble down a hill courtesy of Gen’s meddling. But Senku was the one to get caught in the crossfire and then subsequently had to save you, so it’s really himself who Senku should be appreciating more. And here you are, sleeping on the job and avoiding your responsibilities. You don’t really deserve any praise or reward for being a lazy slacker now, do you?

But this is bad, this is so bad. This is terrible, downright horrible, the way your heart stutters just now. It’s even worse that you catch yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind if Senku treats you this nicely for no reason other than just because he wants to. You wouldn’t mind if he grabs you by the chin and tells you that you did a good job and then maybe actually kisses you once or twice. And maybe Gen wouldn’t mind if you stop this nonsense that you two have going on and just stay friends–

Yes, Asagiri Gen exists. You aren’t dating, sure. You shouldn’t feel like you are overstepping the line, but you do. You guess it’s your own morals talking. You are thinking about locking lips with another man when you were joking about Gen getting all hot and bothered over the aforementioned man not so long ago. It’s more than unfair, but you should have seen it coming. All that staring, and groveling, and begging for attention like stay cat trying to appease someone who is moderately nice to it. It’s pathetic. You’re despicable, really. You simply refused to acknowledge it until you couldn’t run from it anymore and now you are here, spiraling in front of Ishigami Senku, yet still keep thinking about those damn expressive eyes of his.

Putting you down is not enough; you just might not deserve the relief of death.

“Why the hell are you bawling?” Senku sounds sincerely concerned, even if it’s still a tad bit guarded. You never realize you are actually crying, but you also don’t think he should be worried about you in any way after the realization you just went through. “Are you allergic or something? If you don’t want it, you can just say–”

“I’m sorry, Senku.” You don’t think the apology is enough, Senku deserves to strangle you to death with his bare hands. But you’d probably enjoy it so there has to be some other way of executing revenge that will actually hurt you. Senku is smart, he will find a way if he really wants to. “I just remembered that the last time I had chocolate I was with auntie Mashiro. Please excuse me.”

You leave before you can ruin any more of your reputation and then subsequently lock yourself in the art studio for the night just to sob in peace without Ruri or Suika asking questions. You know it’s wrong. You shouldn’t be feeling this way. You don’t know how exactly you got here, with this damn feeling terrorizing you, but there must be something so fundamentally wrong with your brain for that to happen in the first place. It’s not like you got burned out with whatever unlabeled mess you have with Gen. At least you don’t think so, even if it does get moderately tiresome from time to time. But so does everything else in life.

Things are going fine outside of your persistent distaste for noncommitment and your lack of urge to fix it. Outside of his usual scheming behavior nothing is out of the ordinary, but that’s just how Gen is and you two get along precisely because he’s like that. He does his meddling when you need it and never asks questions when you eventually run away. You are still friends with just something added to the mix. It’s as perfect as a relationship between two absolutely mental individuals can be and still, you somehow end up messing it up along the way.

You were mostly joking about the harem thing, even if you don’t have issues with the idea if it works for other people. You still stand by what you said: such a thing isn’t for you. And it’s not like you and Gen are dating, you shouldn’t feel bad for catching feelings for other people. But you spent a lot of your free time ridiculing Gen on being obsessed with Senku and here you are. It’s unfair to Gen, first and foremost, and you definitely don’t think you are anything special enough for Ishigami Senku to be interested in you like that. It’s just ridiculous. You are pretty sure he’s not interested in anyone like that. The guy married Ruri for a barrel of alcohol and then admitted he’d wed a rat if he needed to.

But that’s just telling about what kind of person you are, isn’t it? You have a sufficiently acceptable thing for someone mediocre like you in your hands, and you still go out of your way to ruin it. Because you get off on pain and suffering and the idea of someone actually wanting you despite your innate incompetence is just that unfathomable. You love yourself but you can also acknowledge that you’re a lost cause, even if you don’t want to be. It’s all your father’s fault. You should have let Mashiro poison him, but you know it wouldn’t have changed anything. The damage is done and it’s your job to deal with the aftermath. Nobody else should be picking your slack up for you, moreover someone like Gen.

That’s why you hit your head against the wall until you are sure Ukyo can hear it even out in the open sea and get yourself together. Then you go about your life as if nothing happened. Unfortunately for you, you don’t get the luxury of getting through the most awkward part on your terms. Gen shows up to the clinic with all the flair of a seasoned performer and a little concern swimming in his eyes.

You never got to ask Senku for a lock, so Gen closes the door with your trusty chair. A pointless thing to do but you don’t want to open your mouth, or you will start blabbering apologies and it’s really not how you want to do this. You want Gen to have even a little bit of respect left for you after, even if you need to put on a performance of a century. You are going to hell anyway, so who cares if you lie to him or not. You won’t be acting out on those feelings of yours, anyway, so there’s nothing to worry about.

“A ittle-lay birdy told me you left the clinic crying yesterday,” Gen says, a bit musing, a bit concerned. A perfect mix of his meddling way to care without outright admitting it. He’s smiling, too, but it’s just his default face and he’s not done picking the situation apart. “And an iendly-fray lioness informed that you didn’t show up home, either,” he adds, selling out Ruri’s involvement with the investigation.

Gen hums inquisitively when you don’t react in any way. A thing he clearly expects to happen. But you aren’t in the mood for mind games, you can’t even look him in the eyes. Only you need to, because it’s the basic respect he deserves. Lifting your head doesn’t help, because it takes exactly one look at you for Gen’s eyes to soften. That damn guilt of his is really out of place right now.

“It seems like an usty-tray mentalist is needed around these parts, after all.” With a shake of his head, Gen downplays the situation to dispel some tension with a mildly sarcastic remark. “My services aren’t eap-chay, so I wonder how exactly you are going to pay for them…” He draws out, crossing the distance between the two of you, and stops right next to where you are, perched on the edge of your desk. “A kiss. Maybe two. Or what if–”

You cut Gen off before you can change your mind and take him up on his offer, “Gen, let’s end whatever this is.”

You look Gen straight in the eyes when you say this, so you notice that split second when his pupils dilate after the sound waves of your voice reach his ears. But then it’s all gone and Gen chuckles, tapping his ear with the palm of his hand. “My, I must be hearing things now. Eepy-cray.” You don’t play along or laugh at him for apparently getting the best of him, and it’s enough for Gen to realize that a little humor won’t salvage this. The way his face falls would have been comical if only Gen didn’t sound as cold as he does now. “Why?”

A loaded question, an unenthusiastic confession. “Not feeling it anymore, I guess,” you say, looking away to stare at the cabinet behind him. Unsettled with how genuinely apathetic you sound right now, you shiver, your stone geta bumping against the leg of the table with a loud crack. “That’s all.”

“Is that so?” Gen mutters, clearly not believing a single word you say. Still, he takes a step back from you, hands tucked in his sleeves. “Well, if ending things is what you want, then sure. I’m unpleasant, but not evil. I’m not going to bother you.” You don’t think Gen is either of those things. If anything, you are the one who is being an utter nuisance at all times. That being said, Gen doesn’t look particularly dejected about this, it almost feels like he excepted for this to happen. Or maybe he’s just up to remind you of the agreement you made. You can’t exactly end something that never actually existed. No leashes attached and whatnot. “But you can’t get rid of me,” Gen says. It would have sounded like a threat if only Gen’s voice weren’t so matter-of-factly even. “Friends or not, we’re cursed to stick together orever-fay.”

You can’t allow yourself to get puzzled by such a revelation, or think of what exactly Gen means by that, so you resort to pretend hostility. “Knock yourself out,” you grumble, pointing at where the chair is awkwardly placed under the doorhandle. “You’re ten billion percent free to do whatever the hell you want.” Despite your harsh tone, Gen has the gull to laugh at you. He’s having so much fun with it, actually. You can even see tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

Your defensive predisposition is enough for Gen to finally decide to get himself together. His expression softens as he shakes his head. “I bet you’ve never noticed but you borrow phrases from people you like a lot.”

Gen points this out for seemingly no reason other than being cheeky, but you know better than to let it go. You frantically backtrack to your previous words, only to realize just what exactly you said. But it’s not really your words that leave you trembling, it’s the subtext of Gen’s own sentence. Does he know already? Is this just his own way of getting back at you for being such a terrible person? If so, then Gen definitely succeeds in doing that because even the idea of him hating you hurts in a way that you can force yourself to enjoy.

Your reaction must have been one hell of a show, as Gen crosses that measly distance he put between you in the first place, reaching out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and then allow his touch to linger on your temple. Be it pity or genuine concern for your wellbeing, both ache just about the same. He probably thinks that rubbing salt on your open wound would make for a nice pastime and he’s right. Gen is always right when it comes to you and that’s just adds to the feeling you keep trying to swallow down whenever this happens. You hate that you need to quench your anger before it can show itself.

“But I can’t hold it against you,” Gen says, rubbing his thumb against your temple. It’s so kind it sounds almost condescending. “You’re always too busy sabotaging yourself to pick up on stuff like that.”

Here it is again, Gen calling you out on your self-destructive tendencies. Only you don’t particularly understand how this is related to your picking up Senku’s stupid jargon. Even if that’s what Gen is implying in the first place. You might just be overthinking again, because what is there to sabotage about you and Ishigami Senku. There’s absolutely nothing. And Gen is watching you so carefully, half-lidded eyes never leaving yours even for a second. A fox monitoring his prey vigilantly, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike it dead.

It’s one of his searching looks, those that have no malice behind it but only a crystal-clear question. Gen wants to know whether you are comfortable and if he’s allowed to do whatever it is that he has in store for you. And you are a weak, pathetic, utterly despicable woman. You are so selfish that you can’t refuse him even if you know that you should. But how can you stop yourself from making yet another mistake? Especially when all that you really know is how to enjoy being eaten alive, bones and all.

“Still can’t hear a single word I say, too.” He sighs, disappointed. And then leans down impossibly close until his lips graze the shell of your ear. “A shame, really. Considering we both know that projecting your fears onto me doesn’t exactly get you off.”

You swallow shakily, trying not to focus too much on the way Gen’s palm is slowly moving up your thigh and under your dress. Instead, you try to find exactly the moment that made him think you are projecting. It’s easy, you thought about this conversation exactly seven hundred and thirty-nine times since then. What, your first option got you all hot and bothered after all? Gen knows, doesn’t he? Gen knows and he’s… what exactly is he even doing? Trying to prove he’s the better option? That seems like something too primitive for someone like Asagiri Gen, especially with the nature of your agreement. Or the way he’s been acting recently. So what’s going on?

“Can you even hear yourself?” You ask, exasperated. It’s nothing but another attempt at ignoring the elephant in the room and despite your better judgement, you still allow Gen to push your legs apart. Those damn getas of yours clack again, it almost sounds like a knock on the door. You really are such a loser. You wanted to end things with him this morning, yet here you are, with your voice breaking halfway through a pointless question as Gen hooks his fingers under the edge of your underwear. “I’m trying to end this because I’m just–”

“You just never listen, yes,” Gen agrees, twisting your words to his advantage as his unoccupied hand unbuttons your lab coat. “We had this exact conversation twice before. And you are yet to answer any of those questions I asked you.” It’s funny, how Gen just allows himself to be hypocritical like that. It’s hilarious, actually. But he also doesn’t mind when you lie to him sometimes, even if it’s by omission or unwittingly, so you guess it’s fair on all fronts. A lot of words but not enough communication, as always. But it must be one hell of a satisfying experience to watch you fall apart like this, so maybe it’s all worth it. “Who’s your favorite, Gen or Senku?”

Gen is unfair for asking this, but you guess he also has some reason to be. Emotional cheating is still cheating, no matter how you spin it. Only you’re not dating for it to be considered cheating, and you tried ending things already, so what’s his deal? Do you think it’s ossible-pay to want more than one person at a time? No, you still stand by what you said. Such things aren’t for you. But maybe, just maybe, that’s what Asagiri Gen is into. He is clearly having the time of his life with this realization of yours, pushing you to the edge like this. And what is there for him to gain from this unless it’s something personal?

“Do you want him, too?” Your voice is almost too airy when you ask this, but it’s pointless to lament your breathlessness when you just got bitten by a krait, and now have only around twelve hours left to live. It’s telling, way you can feel Gen grinning against the skin of your neck right before he sinks his teeth in it. He finally got you to admit this and he’s so damn pleased with himself you can’t even begin to unwrap the reason why. “Is that it, Gen?”

His amusement doesn’t last long. With a consolidation kiss over the indent of his teeth over your pulse, Gen has no qualms being strict with you. “Don’t deflect, you’re not allowed to.”

It shouldn’t feel this good to be ordered around so harshly, but it does. It’s too hot here, it doesn’t help that Gen is just that skilled with his fingers. Your breath stutters as you tug him closer to you by his shoulders and dig your nails into the nape of his neck. Then you try your damn hardest not to whine when Gen decides your bashfulness is not to be rewarded and leaves you hanging right before it all gets too much and you need a second to catch your breath.

But Gen has to understand why you are so hesitant to speak. What good does it do, answering those questions of his now, especially when he won’t reciprocate your efforts? It will not only make your circumstances real, but it will also make them complicated. As if they aren’t already. But it might clear some misunderstandings, so you aren’t exactly losing anything if you do speak, are you? The worst thing Gen can do is leave and you already tried to make him do just that. But Gen does make good on that warning of his. It’s hard to get rid of him even if you push him away, with full knowledge of how messed up you are. Asagiri Gen is either crazy or just gets off on the mayhem he causes. You don’t know which one is worse, but you don’t think you deserve either.

So you admit the truth. “I don’t play favorites.”

“You don’t play favorites,” Gen repeats, as if savoring the words while they heat up the air between you. “What’s wrong, [Name]?” Gen asks, something uncharacteristic to the way he doesn’t drag out his vowels. You are so lost in the way he rewards you for finally giving him a clear answer, that you don’t notice either that or the way that Gen completely drops honorifics. “Afraid to admit that you got involved with the wrong guy now that you caught feelings for another, or what?”

It’s Gen who is talking. You can feel his mouth move against your skin, can feel the warmth of his breath wash over you every time he exhales. But it’s not his voice that you hear. Neither are those his words. Gen doesn’t talk like that. He’s all about waxing poetic and dramatic pauses for more theatrics. This is far too crass of a speech for Asagiri Gen but just in character for… You gasp when the realization hits you, the heat in your stomach flaring even more. Ishigami Senku won’t ever say such things, but it sure as hell feels nice to hear him say it. Even if it’s just Gen imitating him.

“Don’t go braindead on me yet, doc.” A dirty cheater that Gen is, he doesn’t drop the impersonation. He takes it a step further by removing himself from the narrative completely. You can’t stop yourself from squirming, a broken moan escaping you before you can stiffen it. It’s unintentional, your body reacts before your mind can even process that you’re doing nothing but affirming Gen’s unabashed actions. If you just close your eyes and… “Yeah, that’s more like it. Now prove me right and do that again.”

You never thought you’d ever hear Senku sound as riled up as the mentalist makes him sound right now. This alone turns you borderline delirious, as terrible as it seems. And it really doesn’t help that Gen is knuckles deep inside of you. But this, too, is just a part of his charade. Gen knows exactly what he’s doing and as all mind games with him go, he wins. Parted lips, you try to inhale some much-needed air in your lungs but instead you choke on it. Gen is right: projecting your fears onto him doesn’t get you off but him impersonating another man does. You’re going to hell.

Gen doesn’t even bat an eye, clicking his tongue mockingly, “Your bias is showing, [Name].”

“Is this your way of punishing me?” A broad question. You don’t really know if you are asking about Gen using Ishigami Senku against you in such a perverse way, or if you just really want to know reason why he once again stops right before you tumble off the edge. “If, so then I’m sorry. Please, let’s just end–” Still, as barely coherent as you are right now, you manage to apologize. Pleadingly so. Probably because you just want Gen to finish what he started even if he thinks it’s not the right time yet. “It’s unfair to both of us and I feel so damn stupid.” You can feel tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, your ever-growing frustration turning you restless. “Senku, really? We’d be the last two people on earth, and it’d still lead to nowhere. It’s hubris to even think that he’d be interested in me like that.”

You know you are rambling, but it’s all Gen’s fault. You wouldn’t be here if he just let you walk away back then. But he just had to be selfish, and you just had to be stupid enough to allow him to be. The two of you are truly a hazard, you shouldn’t be involved in such a way. It’s a flammable mix that will become an issue to everyone soon enough, if it hasn’t already been for more than two years. Gen is self-serving as he is vulnerable, and you are as desperate as you are devoted. You made a mistake and now don’t know how to fix it, skirting around the real issue with a lot of empty words thrown each other’s way just to avoid it hurting. Is it really love when you just keep the dying animal alive to prolong its suffering?

“We need to work of that self-esteem of yours,” he says, in his own voice and finally lifting his head from the crook of your neck to look at you.

It’s clear that Gen is searching for something specific in your eyes that you aren’t quite sure he will ever find. Yet it is precisely because it’s not there, he still decides to feed you half-truths till the very end. How frustrating. Just because Asagiri Gen hasn’t technically ever lied to you, doesn’t mean he has always been fully honest. That’s just not who he is as a person, after all.

“You are right, you know…” Gen admits, swallowing whatever doubt he seems to be having. That familiar softness is back on his face. One foot behind the gates of the Garden of Eden yet again, Gen has a choice to leave at last and live a life of a dishonest man on his way to redemption. Unfortunately for everyone involved, both you and Senku are going to hell one way or another. “I do like him quite a bit. Enough that I don’t mind him in my bed as long as you’re there, too.” Then he laughs. “No leashes attached, remember?”

What a daring confession on his part. You might just cry at how masterfully he is avoiding the issue. It’s not like you are any better, is it? “You don’t think I’m pathetic, do you?” You mumble, opting to drop the real question you want to ask Gen altogether.

“I don’t bet on losing dogs and I’d let you tear me apart.” What a bold statement coming from someone with a heart condition. Also what a brilliant non-answer to all the words left unsaid. “You’d starve otherwise.”

No problems truly solved, everything remains permanently stagnant. You hope Gen knows you are about to take him up on that offer, if to just distract yourself from the thoughts of Ishigami Senku. But something about the way Gen reciprocates when you kiss him, tells you that he wouldn’t mind if you claw right through his ribcage and sink your canines straight into his fragile heart. He seems so desperate, in fact, that you can’t help but think that everything that Gen does in relation to you is bordering the line of self-harm. Unfortunately for the two of you, outside of extreme cases of survival, cannibalism has always been an act of self-destruction.

You will have to find out the hard way which one this is.

hii. 10.5k words in this one.

a lot has happened. chrome and mc are having a blast. the girls are having a nice day off. senku and mc are being stupid. mc is feeling the most over the stuff she shouldn't care about. all the usual stuff.

i hope you won't go misunderstanding that last scene with gen and mc as some sort of declaration of romance. it's an admission of guilt and gen is out there doing his most to punish himself lmao.

ngl i lost interest in writing this bc i got burnt out, but we have 9 more weeks of consistent updates left lmao. idk when i will return to writing this but hopefully it won't be left as my tokrev fic. good luck. see you next week.

[kii-nami]

keep thinking about writing for bleach while being utterly incompetent is torture. i only ever read the manga bc i have bad time with early 2000s filler episodes and i despise the way the anime treats orihime, so i feel like i am missing on a lot of context the anime provided. i also haven't read any of the novels either, i'm far too busy shitting out slop and filling in the gaps with my own imagination. the fate of a subpar writer is truly saddening

[sewersaga]

ACT XI: UNDER YOUR STARS FOREVER (NEITHER HERE NOR THERE)

cw: moderate sexual content! reader beware.

Shortly after the date that left you with so many conflicting feelings, the finishing touches are placed on the hot air balloon. Miharu, Senku, and Gen seem to take a considerable amount of time to decide who all should be included on board, and imagine your surprise when they inform you that you’ll be occupying a spot as the interim geographer. It’s more of a side interest of yours than a field of expertise, but you’ll take any opportunity to be useful. 

The only other spot apart from your own that’s been decided is that of Senku, because of course a science expert is needed on board. The vessel can fit four so that leaves two open spots; one for a miscellaneous passenger and the other for a pilot. Upon hearing the last part, your stomach drops rather embarrassingly. Because there’s only one person who has the expertise in wind patterns to operate any airborne vessel, and he just so happens to be the very one who’s always stuck at the back of your mind. 

Some time has passed, and you still can’t stop thinking about that night, about the phantom sensation of his touch against your skin. And with every day that passes, the sense of guilt that weighs upon your shoulders seems to slip away, dreg by dreg. It’s scary, but you can’t say a part of you hasn’t been anticipating it since the very moment he was revived. 

That’s not to say that Tsukasa has fully vacated your thoughts. In fact, you can’t seem to shake one of the last things he told you, because the man himself seemed very adamant that you move on. Especially considering the fact that he was convinced he wouldn’t exactly return to you alive. You have full faith in Senku and his ability to harness the power of the petrification beam, but you’d be lying if you said you’d never considered the worst case scenario. Clearly, Tsukasa had done the same. So he told you that he didn’t want you stuck in place forever. 

And it feels like your heart is anything but in place. Because it’s pounding at the prospect of being stuck in an enclosed space with Nanami Ryusui for an extended period of time. Yeah, your brain seems to have completely set aside the fact that Senku and some other mysterious passenger will be alongside you, because it loves to abandon all logic when this man is involved. Well, whatever, because this balloon trip is going to be for the greater good. No matter how much your mind seems to be stuck on delusional little fantasies concerning the Kingdom of Science’s resident sailor. 

Despite it already having been decided that you and Senku will take two out of the four spots, Gen seems to have his own little plan to fabricate the luck of the draw. Producing a deck of cards, he explains that in order to keep things fair the balloon’s passengers must each draw a joker. And Chrome is still decidedly absent following his journey to Ishigami Village, a fact that is undeniably a shame considering he seems to be the most popular pick to come along for the ride. You do feel some pity, especially considering this is the kind of voyage the pro adventurer would love to embark on, but there’s little that can be done if he doesn’t make it back in time. 

You and Senku manage to each pull the appropriate cards, rather auspiciously if you do say so yourself. However, it works in your favor so you’re not exactly in the place to object. It’s now Ryusui’s turn to draw from Gen’s clearly improperly shuffled deck of cards, and you can’t shake the anticipation bubbling through the tips of your fingers. If he doesn’t get the joker card, then what? Or, God forbid, he does? What are you supposed to do with yourself after that? You fidget with your hands as Ryusui’s blue-tipped fingers close around a card. 

And it is decidedly not a joker. Asagiri Gen gives him little time to react to his loss before offering the opportunity to pick a card, any card to Shinomiya Miharu. With a small, knowing smile, she does as she is told. And lo and behold, she pulls that stupid joker card. You don’t even want to decipher the look that Ryusui is sending her, because Nanami Ryusui is not at all fond of losing. Especially not when the prospect of a balloon ride with you has slipped through his fingers with the ease of one of Gen’s thin playing cards.

“My, won’t you look at that?” Naturally, the mentalist puts on a big show of congratulating Miharu for receiving the one thing Ryusui wants most at this moment — apart from you, of course. “My Miharu-chan sure is one ucky-lay lady.” The sailor might as well be fuming at the present moment, especially considering the fact that he was so certain he’d draw the winning card. Senku is eyeing them in a manner that tells you he’s probably not entirely in on what’s going on here, which makes it ten times more offputting. Besides, she can’t be the best pick considering the fact that —

“Damn, that’s one in ten billion kind of luck right there.” Senku states with a smile, quickly recovering from whatever confusion he may have initially been experiencing. “Just the person we needed.” Ryusui is becoming increasingly more frustrated with each person that passes him without a second glance. 

And as if finishing your earlier thoughts, Miharu jumps right in, all feigned sheepishness. “Senku, I’m scared of heights. You know that. What if I —” It’s not all embellishment; the fear of heights part is very true. Which makes the fact that Miharu never intended to go up there just yet even more glaringly evident to you, but clearly Ryusui isn’t thinking that deep into it. 

It seems that Asagiri Gen has rubbed off on his other trio members, because Senku and Miharu are completely content to put on a show that involves some not-so-subtle flirting on the scientist’s part. Not a side of him that you’re particularly used to, but it’s quite unnerving to find out that the smartest man alive is also a decent actor. That means that he could probably convince any of the Kingdom’s denizens to do anything, but simply chose not to out of the goodness of his own heart. Up until this point, of course. Senku, Gen, and Miharu go back and forth until the faux-conversation ends with your doctor friend in tears. 

Yes, she seems to be melting into a pile of performative tears. But you should’ve realized that men like Ryusui don’t take women crying lightly. Entirely abhorred, he stands up with full intent of defending a lady’s honor. “Senku, you bastard. How dare you make a beautiful woman cry?” Good to know he’s willing to go to bat for your friends. It’s honestly a green flag, because a man that doesn’t get along with women is a true sign of — “Don’t worry, I’ll do it for you.” Your thoughts are cut off by the realization that Ryusui has just co-opted Miharu’s spot on the balloon. You blink sharply, realizing that the Tricky Trio ™ has just played every single one of you like a fiddle. You don’t have the heart to reveal this to the sailor, so you purse your lips by way of keeping your mouth shut. 

Miharu offers Ryusui a crocodile tear filled thank you, and you send her an unimpressed glance. Smug as ever, she shrugs before blinking a strange pattern your way. Realizing what exactly she’s insinuating is going to go down between you and Ryusui in the balloon’s basket, you quickly and clandestinally brush some hair away from your face with your middle finger. Miharu giggles, and you’re unable to suppress your own smile at the fact that your friend is quite literally setting you up right now. You’re about to tease her about the way Senku is looking at her right now when some hooting in the distance catches everyone’s attention.

Sure enough, Chrome is thumping and bumping over the horizon in his stone geta. He’s made it back just in time to draw the fourth joker, and it seems luck is on his side today in more ways than one. With the favored card between the explorer’s thumb and index finger, the crew for the stone world’s first airborne expedition is set in stone. You can’t help but feel the slightest bit outclassed considering the undeniable expertise of your crewmates, but you can’t ignore the fact that you wouldn’t be included in something this important without a reason. The balloon is set to take off as soon as the wind is right.

So obviously, it’s Ryusui’s job to remain on the lookout for changing conditions. So despite his indulgent nature, he hardly sleeps. You bring him dinner the night of the draw as he looks over the horizon, blond hair blowing with the strong gusts. He’s pleasantly surprised, especially considering the fact that he didn’t ask anyone for food. It’s so strange to think that such a greedy man is able to put his love for opulence aside when something is needed of him, especially something as important as this. “Come. Sit with me.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be much help,” you reply, still a few steps behind him. “I’m not exactly an expert in meteorology like you are.” 

“I didn’t ask you to observe the conditions. I just want you with me.” He states before politely taking a bite of the stewed game you prepared tonight. “You’ve outdone yourself with this meal as always. Come relax.” The man seems to always be convinced that you need to rest. Perhaps he’s right, but you’re in an anxious state of overdrive considering you may be taking off anytime in the next few days. And also, it’s kind of hard to ignore the fact that you know what his lips feel like. But it’s nothing but a digression on your part; you sit down next to him with your own plate. Despite your anxiety, you should still try to get something in your stomach. Ryusui lets you lean up against him as you dig into your meal, eating quietly beside you save for a few intermittent comments hyping up the quality of the food. You don’t think it’s that good for him to be reacting like this, but a little flattery can go a long way. 

“Excited for the trip?” You comment mostly for the sake of making small talk, fork clinking against your own plate as you take up his offer for a few moments of respite. Not to toot your own horn, but the food is pretty damn good so you’re glad he noticed that much. You can count the things you’re decent at on one hand, anyways, so you’d better keep track of your blessings. 

He hums, swallowing politely before he replies. “More than anything. Although I’m more excited for the company I’ll be keeping.” There’s that hand at your back again, tracing up and down your petrification marks. You’re not sure what his fixation with your shoulder blades is, but you can’t say you particularly dislike his touch. The opposite, actually, considering you’re already practically resting your head on his shoulder while you eat. 

“Is that so?” You play dumb as he twirls a lock of your hair around his finger, your delicious meal sufficiently neglected in favor of riling you up with some fleeting brushes of his hands. “I wouldn’t exactly be looking forward to traveling with Senku and Chrome if I were you. They do everything for the sake of efficiency.” You tilt your head to look at him, finding his gaze already fixed upon you. “And that’s not exactly the way you do things. Am I wrong?” He laughs, loud as ever, and clearly your adopting of his trademark phrase hasn’t been lost on him.

“Not in the slightest.” He shakes his head, and you exhale mirthfully through your nose before turning back to your food. “But you know that I’m not talking about them.” That you do. Funny how every single attempt you make at coy flirting immediately gets shut down when he forces you not to dance around your own feelings. That’s what you get for not bothering to actually date in the real world and getting any knowledge of romance you currently have from Criminal Minds fanfiction. 

“Right.” Nanami Ryusui is no Spencer Reid, that’s for sure. He’s blunt, unabashedly loud, and  borderline obsessive. But you don’t see any of these as faults, not in the slightest. You just cannot fathom why you’ve become the object of his fixation; you who are so damn ornery, always unimpressed, and even worse at any sort of romantic contact. For God’s sake, even the actual intellectuals have a better love life than you.

As if sensing you starting to dig yourself into a hole of your own inadequacies, Ryusui sighs. “I’m serious about you, [Name]. I hope you know that.” He tucks your hair behind your ear, and you reluctantly turn to face him for fear of what you might see in his eyes. But his expression is entirely earnest, and you swallow. You wish you’d grabbed a glass of wine, or that Ryusui had some you could bum off of. Unfortunately, the man does surprisingly have a logical bone in his body and prefers to keep his mind unaltered when observing weather conditions, so you’re regrettably sober.

But you’ve got to start reckoning with your feelings eventually. Setting down your plate, you adjust your seated position so you’re directly facing him. And to his credit, he’s surprised, as if he expects you to keep running from him. Not going to happen, not when you’re about to spend God-knows-how-long suspended in the air with him. Might as well come to terms with making eye contact with him while you’re sober, just to ensure that you know you won’t explode just from doing so. “But why?” His hands rest on your shoulders, his now-empty plate set aside as he rubs circles into your skin. 

In lieu of his typical quick answer, he leans in as if about to tell you a secret. Your foreheads meet, and you feel goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms as his lips part. Maybe he’s about to reply to you, but a voice calling from the distance catches both of your attention. “[Name]! Ryusui! Get over here! We got stuff to discuss.” Of course, Chrome just has to start hollering at you right now. There’s no way whatever he needs to discuss with you is more important than this, even if it has something to do with the great oil expedition. 

Alas, Chrome has already distracted you enough and you pull away from the embrace. Thankfully the expedition expert is too focused on whatever he’s rambling on about to notice any compromising position you and Ryusui may have been in, although the sailor is visibly miffed at being interrupted. Well, he should’ve said what he wanted to say sooner instead of playing these mind games knowing just how you react to his touch. The two of you sit rather uncomfortably through what’s supposed to be a debrief of Ryusui’s findings on the weather conditions for the day of takeoff, but you get the sense that neither of you are particularly focused. 

And when Ryusui mentions offhandedly that he’s going to stay up all night to keep an eye on things and ensure tomorrow morning is the best time to depart, you know exactly what you’ve got to do. Senku doesn’t so much as bat an eye at your offer to keep him company — you know, for geographical purposes considering you have about a year more of familiarity with the changed landscape than he does. Something tells you that the scientist knows what’s going down anyway, because he’s remarkably not entirely obtuse when it comes to matters of the heart. You know, if the way he still looks at Shinomiya Miharu has anything to do with it. 

So the two of you end up right back where you were before, with you curled up into his side and his arm wrapped around you. It’s summer, but the breeze is strong and those goosebumps from earlier have returned. “You wanted to know why I’m so sure about you?” The words are practically spoken into your hair, but you nod anyway, not trusting yourself to respond without saying or doing something stupid. God, you may be sober now, but you can’t so easily shake thoughts of what he offered to do to you through Morse code — “Because you’re perfect, and I just know.” His lips shift downward until they brush against the shell of your ear. “My sailor’s intuition is never wrong, so I don’t intend on giving up on you anytime soon.” 

Your whole body feels like it’s burning from your earlobes to your fingertips. “I hope you don’t. Because I’d be really upset if you do.” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re suddenly conscious of the way you’re clinging to his bicep. 

Clearly, he doesn’t mind because you feel the vibration of his laughter right against your ear. “Is that the closest thing I’m going to get to a confession from you?” Yes, you are most certainly not feeling his arm up right now, not one bit. 

“Right now, maybe.” You finally offer a laugh of your own, albeit a shaky one. Because despite your rather misleading statement, you’re starting to realize just how you feel about him. But it’s not exactly something you can say right now, when you’re half asleep and letting his hand slither down the back of your top. “But that’s certainly subject to change.”  

He snaps, something he does less often when it’s just the two of you because he knows that it makes you jump. “Then all I’ve got to do is get you to say it out loud.” He pokes your cheek, and you chuckle. Good luck with that. Because as much as the confession is at the tip of your tongue, you are incredibly sleepy right now. And he seemingly notices, because he doesn’t press you for any sort of response, although that isn’t really his style either. If he wants an answer, he can find it in the way you’re clinging to him right now. 

And if that isn’t enough, you kiss him to really hammer it home, because you’re not exactly in the state to say anything aloud right now that you might regret. Then, you proceed to doze off in his arms in the middle of telling him some sort of story about your childhood. You don’t even remember what, so you suppose you were more sleep deprived than you initially thought. It doesn’t matter, because the two of you are about to be among the ranks of the stone world’s first hot air balloon passengers.

You wake up a few hours later with his cape draped over your shoulders. Dawn isn’t far from sight, and noticing the change in your breathing he smooths a hand over your hair. “You’re back in time for the best part.” His voice is quiet, amused, as he points to the slowly lightening sky. You don’t reply verbally, and he doesn’t push you to, so you just tiredly bury your face into his chest to the sound of his laughter. 

Yuzuriha takes care of breakfast today so you can focus on getting ready for your journey, something you’re eternally grateful for. You give her a hug after the (earlier-than-usual) meal is complete, thanking her profusely for her help and the sheer amount of clothes you now have at your disposal thanks to your rich-ass benefactor. She wishes you safe travels, and then you’re off to say goodbye to Miharu and Suika. 

With all of your farewells in order, it’s finally time for takeoff. The sun is just breaching the horizon as Ryusui helps you into the balloon cart, refusing to let go of your hand even once you’ve made it safely aboard. Senku exhales from his nose at the sight, and you get the idea that the two of you are going to be tap-dancing on his last nerves. Thank God for Chrome’s enthusiastic personality to take some of the heat off of you.

Honestly, you’re grateful for the grounding sensation of his hand in yours because being up there is kind of terrifying. You’re starting to understand why heights are so scary to people like Miharu, because what happens if something goes wrong with the “flying machine” and all of you plummet to your deaths? You know how unlikely it is for that to happen during a two hour ride (or ever, God-willing) but you can’t help but consider the worst case scenario. So yes, you’re squeezing Nanami Ryusui’s hand right now. Sue you. The others may be willing to die for science, but you’ve got other shit to do, and you’d rather not die right before your birthday.

According to Senku, you’ve made it about twelve-hundred meters above the ground when Chrome’s sniffling catches your attention. You glance at him, and sure enough tears are streaming down the explorer’s face. “It’s true. The earth really is round.” You and Ryusui share an empathetic look. Because in the twenty-first century, every single one of you took this knowledge for granted, the ability to open Google Earth and see the state of the planet whenever you wanted. For a fifty-eight century human, the ability to witness the curvature of the earth with their own two eyes is a completely unfathomable event. “I wanna see more. I wanna know everything about our planet!” Chrome is full on sobbing at this point, but Senku simply chuckles. 

“There are plenty of unknowns I wanna take a look at, too.” The scientist juts his chin in the direction of the horizon where the sun gleams bright and strong. The surface of the planet some thousand meters below is still shrouded in darkness, but up here everything is warm and glowing. Perhaps you’re fighting tears of your own, but Ryusui wraps an arm around you and you can’t bring yourself to feel any sort of shame about it. “Like the source of that beam on the other side of the planet. What’s really over there?” Senku’s statement is clearly addressed to the pilot opposite you, who laughs. 

“I’m your man, then. I’ll get us there without a doubt.” Ryusui’s palm rubs up and down your back, and Chrome raises an eyebrow as if just noticing your proximity. Although in all fairness, he probably has just noticed. “So take a look at the world below, because right now all of this is ours.” He proclaims, and a silence falls over your ranks as you all do as you’re told. The sight is really something to behold, completely unlike the view of the Earth’s surface you’d receive from an airplane. The balloon cruises through the air alongside the birds, and you listen to the beating of their wings as your captain companion is bragging about flying a private jet just to go shopping. Very Nanami-coded. 

Clearly, everyone is quite tickled by the whole experience, though. Chrome manages to pluck a bird’s feather, a fact that makes him completely ecstatic until Senku not-so-subtly lets it slip that birds are responsible for a large number of aircraft crashes. That little tidbit has you eyeing your avian friends with a bit more scrutiny as Ryusui reluctantly pulls away from you to check the fire. “Weird. We aren’t getting up very high.” Everyone seems to shrug his comment off as he stokes the fire, and you unfurl the map you brought along. Chrome and Senku are digging into the grilled meat you brought along in case of emergency, and you’re not exactly sure how they’re already hungry when you ate breakfast less than an hour ago and the trip isn’t particularly long. Male appetites never fail to astound. 

It immediately comes to your attention that Chrome wasn’t at all aware that the balloon’s destination was Ishigami Village, considering the fact that he goes into a tizzy upon seeing the location marked on your page. “Surprise.” You mutter sheepishly, awkwardly throwing up jazz hands in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness. Unfortunately, your theatric gesture is met from a complete blank stare from Chrome and a sneer from Senku as he digs in his nasty-ass ear. Ryusui simply pats your head, but you’re already upset by the others’ reactions and bat his hand away. “Don’t look at me like that, Senku. I’m not the one who kept this a secret from one of the literal passengers.”

“Because I knew he’d ten billion percent make a scene like this.” Senku waves you off as he often does, and you hope he remembers that you’re a thousand meters above the ground and he’s within pushing range of the balloon’s edge. 

“I’m not trying to make a scene.” Chrome points at Senku, frustrated by the accusations. “It’s just that the trip takes two days, even speedwalking.” 

The scope of how game-changing air travel is still hasn’t kicked in for the seasoned explorer yet, and Ryusui pats his shoulder. “It’ll be two or so hours by air. That’s the power of wind.” 

“Air travel is baaad stuff.” Chrome muses, leaning over the edge of the balloon as if trying to remind himself just how far from the ground the balloon is. 

“It may be cool as hell, but we’re still facing some problems here.” Ever the pragmatist, Senku cuts in to dash Chrome’s scientific fascination. “In order to get to Ishigami Village, we’ve got to go west.” 

“And the wind in Japan only blows east.” You comment offhandedly, finger tracing the balloon’s projected route on the map.  

“Oh. Well, how are we gonna use the wind to go west then?” You can practically hear the gears turning in Chrome’s mind. He’s a smart kid, so he’ll pick all this information up pretty quickly. In fact, he even seems to work better when he’s briefed on something right before it happens as opposed to learning about it ahead of time. Perhaps that’s why Senku and Ryusui waited so long to tell him where exactly you’re going, but you can’t say so for sure. 

Ryusui snaps. “A low pressure system.” He goes on to explain how your route is harnessing the counterclockwise spiral of the system in order to hitch a ride to the west. Chrome’s eyes are narrowed, but he’s processing everything pretty well. “It’s super risky, but stepping up to this challenge makes me a pro adventurer. Am I wrong?” You nudge him, an almost knee-jerk reaction to the ragebait he’s laid out for Chrome to pick up. You’re not sure why everyone is trying to use reverse psychology to motivate the real adventurer today, but you were decidedly left out of that little conversation. 

Sure enough, Chrome’s face immediately twists, his eye practically twitching with irritation. Thankfully, he decides to keep his peace, instead huffily leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. Emerging triumphant from that one-sided battle, Ryusui laughs. “I’ll fly us to Ishigami Village, and from there we can embark on our adventure to find us some oil.”

Unfortunately, that rather benign statement seems to be Chrome’s tipping point, because he decides to open his mouth and accuse Ryusui of only being useful up in the air. Of course, the man with insane nautical knowledge refuses to take that comment lying down, so the two end up in a weird sort of standoff while you and Senku look on, unimpressed. You groan, resolving to be the one to break up the situation. “Okay, can we shelve the dick-measuring contest for now?”

“[Name] makes a good point. We may have bigger problems to worry about.” The two separate from their little chest-pounding match, turning to face you and Senku with a small measure of embarrassment. “We’d better check the wind down below.” Senku proceeds to drop a teru teru bozu puppet over the balloon’s edge to surmise which direction it’ll blow. 

Only for it immediately to get swept away by the gusts. All four of you share a look before your gaze travels towards the horizon where massive storm clouds are beginning to form. So, perhaps your earlier fears about the balloon going down were moderately well founded. Ryusui immediately jumps into pilot mode. “If we get too close, we’ll be sucked into the storm. We need to prepare for an emergency landing now. [Name], pull that rope.” Honestly, hearing him give you commands like this is kind of —

Nope, [Name], mind out of the gutter. You can worry about that once you’re all not actively in danger of losing your lives. Your fingers are just closing around the rope when Senku halts you by grabbing it himself. “Wait. It’s already popped.” The rest of the passengers look at him with shock, and Ryusui gently moves you away from the rope. “Pull any more, and the fabric will rip off. We’ll be in complete free fall.” 

“What the hell?” Chrome butts in, craning his neck to look at the rip in question. “When and how did that happen?” 

“The birds from earlier.” You realize aloud and everyone hums in agreement. Stupid birds. Now Ryusui’s comment about the balloon’s altitude slipping earlier makes a lot more sense, but it’s strange that he noticed that and didn’t think to look up. Whatever, all of you are a bit off-kilter today. Plus he’s running on like zero sleep. 

But unfortunately, you’ve all already been caught by the evil cumulonimbus cloud. Despite the fire being under control, the balloon just keeps rising and everyone is in panic mode with no way to descend in sight. But conversely, the dire situation seems to have Ryusui all wound up. “This is the perfect challenge.” Two hands gently on your shoulders as he moves you as far from the edge as possible in this small carton, he laughs to himself. “I’ll get us out of this.”

Both Chrome and Senku are muttering to themselves and you feel entirely useless. But standing at the center of the craft, closest to the fire, you realize that there’s something you can do. Your voice is weak when you speak up, but Senku gives you the go ahead to stoke the fire. A silence falls over the group as Chrome slides in to help you. “Baad idea?” He tosses over his shoulder in the direction of the two men who watch, shocked by your quick thinking. 

Senku grins. “Bad in the best way.” Producing some revival fluid, he shoves the elixir into the fire by way of igniting the fire even more. Everyone only has a few seconds to brace before that shit explodes. Ryusui grabs you, pulling you from the direct line of fire. Unfortunately, Senku is not so lucky considering he’s the one who chucked the revival fluid bomb, and he’s shot right over the side of the balloon. 

Senku dangles from the railing like a damn jungle gym, and Ryusui chucks his hat upwards to find the updraft. “There’s a path upwards.” His free hand is still grabbing your arm, and you kind of wish he wouldn’t have to let go until all of this shit is over. Sadly, he’s needed to pilot you out of this shitshow, so you and Chrome stoke the fire to break out of the cloud. Like a boomerang, Ryusui’s hat flies right back into his waiting hand.

Finally, clear skies are back in sight, and so is Ishigami Village. Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief, and Chrome and Ryusui share a nice fist bump. All of the adrenaline coursing through your body has you weak and you lean against the railing, suddenly dead tired. Ryusui moves over to you, hugging you to his side. “Great thinking earlier.” A hand ruffles your hair as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You did well.” 

Your cheeks are bright red as you mumble a thank you. Chrome’s brows are furrowed as he points between you and Ryusui. “Wait, you two —” Nothing ever gets past Chrome, does it? 

Thankfully Senku cuts off his proclamation of what exactly you and the man currently holding you are. “All this bonding is well and good, but I kind of need some help down here.” Yes, Ishigami Senku is currently still dangling over the side of the vessel. Oops. 

After Ryusui pulls Senku back aboard, the balloon touches ground in Ishigami Village. Kohaku waves frantically as she and Ukyo help you make a safe landing, greeting you alongside swathes of enthusiastic villagers. Considering the way Chrome reacted earlier, this kind of thing must be a crazy sight for them to behold. As soon as you step foot on solid land your lioness friend scoops you in her arms for one of her gorilla hugs. “Welcome home!” The various village children swarm around you as well, and you crouch down to their level to give them hugs and promise to tell them one of your trademark stories later tonight to celebrate your return. 

It’s been a long ass day, and you didn’t exactly have time to indulge in the snacks that you brought aboard the balloon (the ones that you cooked, too, irony is an unfortunate thing) so you’ve been looking forward to dinner. You didn’t exactly expect anything crazy but you can’t help the way that the sight of grilled mackerel makes your stomach turn. Perhaps you got a bit spoiled over in the Empire, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Ryusui, on the other hand, is wholly unimpressed. He sits beside you with a plate of miscellaneous grilled fish, waiting until the kind aunties who prepared this feast are out of earshot. “Is this really what they eat when you’re not in the kitchen?” You snort, shaking your head in response to his flattery. “I’m serious, [Name]. This is fine, but it’s far from anything you can make.” As if demonstrating his point, he holds a bite to your lips which you gratefully accept, ignoring the way Kohaku is giggling behind her hand. You stick your tongue out at her; you know damn well who she’s missing right now, and exactly what the woman in question has been talking about doing to her. Again, nobody moves faster than stone age lesbians. 

Still, Ryusui seems entirely unimpressed by the meager food selection in the village. As so delicately pointed out by Asagiri Gen ages ago, you’re working only with the same ingredients, so you can understand his point. The villagers murmur something about only having fish to eat over the past few months, which seems to drive him to the edge. “Senku, how long are we staying in this village?”

Senku shrugs. “Could be a year or two before we find oil.” You expect that news to make Ryusui deflate, but instead it simply stokes his determination. He declares that he’s going to find better food before turning to you, stating that he’d hate for someone as beautiful as yourself to get bored in the kitchen. You sigh, unimpressed. And here you thought he’d abandoned the aggressive flirting. Because he knows damn well how hard it is for you to resist him when he’s quiet with you; you haven’t been able to forget the praise he whispered in your ear as the balloon was landing, after all. Like, it’s been playing on repeat in the back of your mind. 

Your own pathetic easiness aside, you set up shop back at Kohaku’s place. To which she immediately starts interrogating you about the progression of your relationship (or lack thereof) with Ryusui. You try to give her the answers she wants, but it seems like she won’t be fully satisfied until you admit that you’re madly in love with him. Seriously, the knowledge that you kissed isn’t even enough to satiate her curiosity. Thankfully, you have access to the trump card that is mentioning Gyokunaha Komugi, and Kohaku’s face immediately goes red. You claim the victory, laughing loudly in a manner not unlike someone you know before rolling over to go to sleep. 

You, Ryusui, and Senku take to the skies a few more times with Kohaku as your fourth passenger in lieu of Chrome. Her eyesight is incredibly useful for mapping the land considering she spots things you humans with genetically diverse eyesight aren’t able to. For what it’s worth, Kohaku is thrilled to be flying high in the sky, even dangling willingly from the bottom of the vessel in a way that likely is giving Senku PTSD. With Chrome and Ukyo on the ground, both of your teams are working towards the goal of creating a comprehensive map until you find oil. And you’re the one doing the sketching, so you’d better hope you don’t get stone age carpal tunnel. 

Ever greedy, Ryusui seems hyperfocused on the goal of finding something good to eat. To the point where it seems to have taken priority over finding oil, which is kind of insane for him. Damn, your food must have really had everyone spoiled. You can’t help but feel proud, but now isn’t the time for that. Kohaku spots a forest, and as you approach it, Ryusui spots something moving. He’s practically frothing at the mouth at the possibility that it could be foodstuff, and honestly the rest of you aren’t much better. As you mark the cedar forest on the map, Ukyo on the ground comes to the conclusion that the creatures Ryusui saw were indeed a herd of wild goats. And if one just so happened to separate itself from the herd, well, Ukyo’s bow and arrow may come to good use.

With tonight’s dinner secured, you clandestinally mark the location of the goat herd on the map. You and Senku work tirelessly with the help of the others to sketch out the topographics, and with your sheer amount of effort the official stone world map is complete. Of course, you haven’t been able to see all of Japan from a thousand meters up, but you were able to successfully map all the most important locations that would be useful to a stone age human living in the area. 

The villagers are astounded by the creation of a map. You’re surprised no one thought to do it earlier, but you suppose such a thing isn’t really important in such a small settlement. If you don’t know where something is, your neighbor probably doesn’t either, so both of you just resolve not to worry about it. You listen to their shock and awe routine as you roast some goat over the fire. You wish you had access to some spices so you could make biryani to satiate your soft spot for South Asian cuisine. You make a mental note to request you all visit the spice capital of the world; after your trip to Puerto Rico, of course. 

Ryusui declares to his captive audience that they’ll no longer be subjected to only fish with the help of the data you collected from the air and your own cooking skills. Still unimpressed, you send him a small smile over your shoulder. The events of today have worn you out, but you listen in as he comforts some older villagers as memories of past starving periods resurface. You bite your bottom lip; of course you assumed that there were events like that in theory considering how small the village’s population remains, but hearing about it is still heartbreaking. It makes you think of how lucky you really were in the old world to take things like an abundance of food to eat for granted. Effectively sobered, you finish your dinner quietly before retiring to bed. 

You’re tossing and turning in your dark room when Kohaku enters quietly. You immediately cease all movement to feign being asleep, but she simply sighs. I know you’re awake, [Name].”

“You caught me.” You concede, sitting up to wipe the non-existent sleep from your eyes. “What, you didn’t wanna miss out on our nightly interrogation?”

“Sort of.” She shrugs, striding over to her side of the room before sitting cross-legged. “Ryusui is looking for you.” She attempts to state this little tidbit with some nonchalance, but immediately fails. 

“I’m sure he is.” Rolling your eyes with barely any bite behind the action, you comb your hands through your tangled hair. Naturally, you forgot to braid it before laying down to rest which is just adding to your sensory hell right now. “You can tell him that when he’s willing to stop boasting to everyone who will listen about me he can come find me.” 

“Aren’t you into that?” Kohaku raises an eyebrow, tilting her head at you in that feline-like manner that both her and Miharu share. “Because it seems to me that you’re making up excuses not to deal with your feelings for him.”

That effectively renders you speechless for a few moments, your hands freezing as they plait your hair. Finally you sigh, resolving to allow her this one victory. Because she’s not wrong. Far from it, actually. “You know, I spoke to him earlier. He’s a good guy.” You swallow. Honestly, it takes a lot to get such a raving review about a man from Kohaku. 

You can do little more than nod, because you know that no response you give her will be effective. Something about being back here is making your head all swimmy, especially considering what’s happening next week. It’s not as if you have anything planned what with the only people who know about the significance of the day are back in the Empire, but the knowledge that it’s coming is still a little bit jarring. 

You’ve always been the kind of girl to hate your birthday, anyways. It’s so funny, the entire world went and got itself petrified a month before you turned nineteen, and by the time you woke up no one was keeping track of the time anyways. So this will be your first real birthday in the stone world that you’re actually aware of. And you are certainly not sure what to do with that information. Kohaku doesn’t press the matter, simply dozing off in seconds. You suppose the events of the day tired her out as well. And even with the comforting sound of her breathing, you’re unable to drift off yourself, so you decide to head off to the cove for a cold shower. 

You only make it a few steps away from Kohaku’s place when Saionji Ukyo stops you. “Hey, [Name]. What’re you up to?” 

You eye him with confusion. “I’m going to take a shower. What, do you have a sixth sense for when I want to wash up or something? Because this keeps happening.” 

Despite the implications of your statement, Ukyo simply shakes his head good-naturedly. “Nothing like that. It’s just late, that's all.”

You crane your neck to look around him. “Really? How come Senku and them are all still up, then?” The utter strangeness of the phenomenon really sinks in as you finish your statement. It’s not anything new for Senku, Chrome, and Ryusui to be burning the midnight oil, especially considering the sheer amount of hours you all stayed up to complete the map, but they’d certainly have you accompany them right now. Especially considering you’re the one who drew the damn thing. “I should probably go help them, actually.” You start heading in their general direction.

“No!” Ukyo replies quickly, shifting to block your path. “I mean, you wanted to take a shower, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” You narrow your eyes at him, metaphorical fangs on display. “Am I allowed to do that?” You grit out, and Ukyo winces. 

“Of course. Just let me walk you there.” You raise an eyebrow, but you suppose some company wouldn’t hurt. Especially considering Ryusui has certainly heard your conversation but decidedly hasn’t come over to put a stop to it. Perhaps your avoidant tendencies have finally caught up to you and he’s lost interest. And that thought certainly does not wrench your heart in a way that makes you abruptly freeze a few steps behind Ukyo to the point where he has to ask if you’re okay. 

You do get your shower, for what it’s worth. And as soon as you step foot into the vicinity of Ishigami Village, wet hair freshly braided, Ukyo is once more waiting to walk you all the way back to Kohaku’s place. This is extremely weird, but by this point you’re too tired to care. You start to drift off as soon as you lie down, and you’re still unsure if you dreamed Kohaku quietly tiptoeing out of the room, chatting quietly about something with Ukyo just outside. Again, you’re too tired to care. 

A few mornings later, you wake up to Kohaku standing over you, practically vibrating with excitement. You simply blink the sleep away, gazing up at her. “Can I help you?”

It seems you can, because she immediately pulls you up, scooping you into her arms in the Kohaku way. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Happy birthday!” Your mouth drops open as she squeezes the living daylights out of you. Who the hell told her? It’s not as if Kohaku watches the calendar with any vehemence. 

You let her drag you outside, still stunned and barely presentable. “Here she is!” You’re immediately swarmed by the village aunties and their children, all granting you their best wishes for your birthday. Still half-asleep your head feels like it's full of cotton, but you thank them all anyways. Your main priority is figuring out who is responsible for this and trying not to cry, for both good and bad reasons. Because you can really feel the love that these people are sending your way, but you know all at once that you don’t deserve it. 

Ryusui, Senku, and Chrome are still notably absent, but Ukyo approaches you as you help yourself to breakfast that someone else has already cooked and some piping hot tea to combat the mild morning. Well, you can’t exactly complain about less responsibilities today, no matter how much you don’t feel like you should receive any special treatment. “Big day, isn’t it?” 

“More for you all than for me. I appreciate it, though.” You sip your tea, relishing the way it burns your tongue. 

Ignoring your sarcasm as he often does, Ukyo pats your shoulder. “Happy birthday, [Name].” He leaves with little fanfare, a weird vibe lingering in his wake. Funnily enough, you can’t exactly decipher which direction he went. You don’t have much time to ponder on it before Kohaku attacks you with another hug, demanding you announce to everyone how old you’re turning. 

Then, she rambles on about something or other before she quickly and suddenly relinquishes her grip on you. With a catlike chuckle she peels herself away, and your eyebrows furrow in surprise. “Kohaku —” You turn over your shoulder only to be met with the presence of Nanami Ryusui. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” His grin is wide, his slightly sharp canines peeking out. “Are you up for a birthday adventure?” You can’t help the way a smile that mirrors his own stretches across your face. 

Senku, Mr. I-Hate-Celebrations himself seems to have relented enough to allow Ryusui to take you out on the balloon. There isn’t much of the land that you haven’t seen at this point, but the idea of being up there, just the two of you, is kind of making your stomach twist. Which you totally kick yourself for, because what exactly are you so nervous about? You’ve literally already kissed for God’s sake, although not in recent days. In fact, you haven’t seen very much of him around lately which led to a complete spiral of overthinking about his interest in you. You fiddle nervously with your hair as you approach him where he waits for you beside the balloon. “Your hair looks beautiful.” He leans down to whisper to you in the way that he knows sends shivers up your spine. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, swallowing harshly in hopes that your voice doesn’t shake. “I only took it out of a braid.” 

He clicks his tongue. “Still beautiful. Like the rest of you.” He helps you into the balloon’s basket as you try to ignore Kohaku’s smug smile and well-wishes for you and Ryusui to have a very lovely and cozy balloon ride. Naturally, Miharu rubbed off on her in that regard. 

Senku mutters something to Ryusui to which the sailor almost immediately waves him off, promising something about tomorrow morning. Senku nods before turning to you. “Happy birthday. Enjoy your day, or whatever.” Good to know there’s still not a sentimental bone in his body. Ryusui stokes the fire, and the two of you are off on your birthday adventure.

As the balloon ascends, you’re sitting in comfortable silence despite the physical distance between the two of you. “Twenty years old. That’s a big birthday.” It feels like he’s waiting for you to close the gap, especially considering you can’t seem to be in his presence without wanting him to touch you for whatever reason. For that reason, you’d like to request your next birthday present be a merciful euthanization. “Still can’t drink in America though, can you?”

You chuckle, leaning against the railing in a way you hope comes off as coy. “Why do you think I moved away?”

Finally he approaches you, stopping just in front of you, which isn’t saying much considering the basket is incredibly small. “Yeah, I’d do the same.” Then he leans forward, planting his hands on the rail on either side of you. “Don’t worry, we’ll toast to you tonight.” 

“Yeah, some alcohol is long overdue.” You muse. No one has really been drinking ever since you all got here, especially considering you’re all so occupied with the joint oil and food mission. You desperately miss Miharu and her flasks of mysterious intoxicating liquids. You probably would’ve done a shot before getting up here to ease your nerves. “Thank you for taking me up here, though. It’s really thoughtful of you.” 

“Of course. What girl doesn’t deserve to see the world she’ll rule over for her birthday? Besides, I’ve been wanting to get you alone again. I miss you, [Name].” 

His words strike straight through your ribcage like a well-placed arrow. You hesitate, swallowing as you pick your words wisely. “Well, I haven’t exactly seen much of you either.” Because how terrible would it be to bare your soul before him right here, a thousand meters above the ground? Kohaku is right, you’re avoiding things, but you have no idea how to change. 

“Is that your way of saying you missed me?” But Ryusui recognizes that you need a little more guidance to say exactly what you mean. He laughs good-naturedly, his hand coming to rest at your chin.  “You can just say it, you know.”

“Fine. I missed you.” You blurt out, leaning into his touch as his thumb rubs against your skin. Yeah, you missed this. You never realized how touch starved you were in the old world considering the fact that you never really let anyone close enough to touch you. “But what’s with all this world ruling stuff? I don’t think I need to rule over anything. I’m happy just to be alive.” It’s the truth. Plus, you’re not exactly a special enough person to rule over anything, much less the entire globe. That’s a little far-fetched, even for Nanami Ryusui.

“A queen doesn’t want to rule the stone world?” He switches to the Spanish word for queen — your given name — and you freeze, blinking up at him. 

“Oh, so you understand Spanish now?” You press a palm to his chest, and he laughs smugly. 

“A little bit. But I’ll learn more for you.” His wandering thumb finds your bottom lip.

And when you open your mouth to speak, your words are practically pressed against his finger tip. “I suppose I could teach you. It just depends how good of a student you are.”

“Believe me, I’m a great student. And a quick learner.” For a fraction of  a second, his thumb dips into your mouth before he drops his hand, leaving you frustrated. Is this flirting? This is definitely flirting. God, every interaction the two of you have is flirting, isn’t it? It’s embarrassing, but it’s also amazing. And you wish you could capture the way he’s looking at you right now so you could feel the warmth that’s flooding through your veins forever. “Look. You can see the ocean from here. I know we never focused much on the sea before when we were making the map.” 

“Wow.” You whisper, and wow is correct. From this high, you can see the way the sun glints on the water, the way the sea foam dances atop the surface. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to see the ocean like this, to really focus on it instead of the locations you need to include on the map. So yes, you may have seen this before, but you haven’t been able to just be up here. He wraps his arms around you from behind, and somehow your hand finds his bicep once more. Talk about a sleeper agent activated by the sight of arm muscle. “Thank you, Ryusui.” 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and there go the goosebumps again. “There’s no need to thank me yet. Trust me.” You crane your neck to look at him, confused, but he simply smiles down at you without another word to elaborate on what he’s talking about. Whatever, you suppose you can enjoy the view and the feeling of his large arms around you. And it’s indeed a very enjoyable sensation.

You stay up in the air for a few hours longer, talking about any and everything. You get to learn a lot more about him than you knew previously — for example, you find out that he was practically raised by his butler and that the insane amount of half-siblings he has doesn't speak to him — but you also realize just how much attention he’s been paying to you. He knows what tea you’re partial to, which meals are your favorite to cook. So the questions he asks you border on utterly strange; things that tap into your hyperfixations like what your favorite civilization is. You don’t get many chances to talk about your studies these days, so you get to fill him in on what you were studying in the months before the petrification. 

As evening settles in, he guides the balloon to a stop at a nice spot near the coast. “Don’t we have to take it back to the village?” You inquire, pulling at his arm in another poorly-veiled attempt to feel him up. 

For what it’s worth, he doesn’t seem to mind. “Not right away. It’s your birthday, so it isn’t as if Senku expects us to be in any rush.” Fair enough. Plus, you wouldn’t mind spending more time with him without the prying eyes of the villagers or your well-meaning yet overenthusiastic lioness of a friend. As the balloon descends, you realize that this location actually isn’t very far from the village anyways, to the point where it would probably only be an hour walk back and a comically short trip by air. 

He helps you out of the basket before almost immediately guiding you swiftly to some unknown destination, although he seems quite familiar with the path. Your inquiries about where he’s taking you are only met with a mirthful “You’ll see” in response, so you’re really hoping he hasn’t been playing the long game in seducing you just so he can murder you in a secluded spot on your birthday. As if sensing the doubts in your mind, he squeezes your hand reassuringly, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. 

Finally, you emerge near a small cove just by the sea. The waves crash against the shore and you look around stunned, completely unaware that such a beautiful spot existed. “How did you find this place?” 

He doesn’t let go of your hand, simply beaming at you. “There are some secrets I’ll never reveal.” Pulling you close to him, he runs a hand through your hair. “You like it though, don’t you?” 

“I love it.” You reply honestly, and his entire face lights up. You stay like that for a moment, just looking at each other, before he seems to come to his senses. 

“Good, because I have something else to show you.” He proceeds to guide you just a few steps over, to where he’s somehow set up an entire picnic spread on a thick pelt, the area covered by a tentlike structure made of tarp eerily similar to that of the hot air balloon. “I wasn’t sure if it would rain, but it seems like the weather is on our side.” He comments offhandedly, as if your surprise is only due to the covering he managed to put up. 

“Ryusui. How the fuck? How long have you been planning this?” You can count the number of people you told the date of your birthday on one hand. Which is to say that only Nikki, Minami, and Gen know, with the latter having stumbled in on your conversation like the nosy little bastard he is. And Nikki and Minami decidedly refuse to speak to the sailor, so —

“That mentalist friend of yours let slip that a very special day was coming up about a month ago.” What a surprise. But Ryusui simply shrugs, tugging you in the direction of the little set up. “As for everything else, well, a few dragos go a long way.” You open your mouth to say something — perhaps to tell him that it’s too much? — before he intercepts you. “But you shouldn’t worry about that right now. Just come enjoy your birthday dinner with me.” Sure enough, the food that’s laid out is still warm and incredibly delicious. Jesus, how much did he pay these mysterious people to not only set the food up but also to skitter off before the two of you made it here? Sure, it’s only a hop, skip, and jump away from Ishigami Village, but still? As you’re eating you can’t help but consider the sheer amount of effort that went into planning this. There’s no way he did this alone, so —

Oh. Well, Ukyo and Kohaku’s weird behavior certainly makes sense now. As does Senku, Chrome, and Ryusui’s secret late night meeting that you weren’t allowed to stumble upon. “I know you told me not to worry about it, but I have to know.” Taking a bite of his food, he raises his eyebrows to prompt you to continue. “Just how many people did you involve in this?” 

“Oh, only a few. Okay, a lot.” He relents, and your jaw drops in real time. “Is it that hard for you to believe that so many people care about you?” 

“Yes.” You reply honestly, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yes, it is.” He looks like he’s going to say something else, so in lieu of being too vulnerable, you quickly change the subject. “What about that toast you promised me?”

And sure enough, he produces a bottle of wine from a basket included in the picnic spread. “How could I ever forget?” 

You get your toast, and a few more servings of wine after that. The two of you are talking and laughing loudly, taking advantage of the seclusion to say whatever the hell you want. Whoever helped him set up had the genius idea to leave some extra pelts around, so the two of you drag them onto the beach so you can comfortably lay down and look at the stars. “So, how would you rate this birthday?” He asks, and from your spot laying on his chest you crane your neck to look up at him. 

“Ten out of ten. Would recommend Ryusui Birthday Services.” You giggle as his hand travels up and down your back, tracing circles on your warm skin.

“Whoa, slow down. As much as I love making money, this particular service is special just for you.” The summer breeze blows around the two of you, and despite it being early July conditions near the shore are nice and mild enough that laying on top of him isn’t at all uncomfortable. 

“Is it? Good to know.” You reply, rather tongue-in-cheek as his finger trails up your spine. You fall into a rather comfortable silence, gazing up at the same sky. 

Finally he hums, pressing yet another kiss to the side of your head. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the village? It’s just a walk away.” 

“Nah. I’m comfortable here.” You shake your head. You don’t much favor a tipsy walk of shame back to Ishigami Village, nor do you think you’re particularly in the mood to give Kohaku an exact play-by-play of what went down tonight.“Plus, we’ve got the pelts anyway, just in case we get tired.” Not to mention that there’s still something unfinished hanging in the air between the two of you, and you have a feeling that you know exactly what it is. 

“I’m not tired.” He sniffs, sitting up. 

“Me either.” You follow suit, the two of you now upright and staring into each other’s eyes. His hand finds the side of your face once more, and then he’s kissing you. This kiss is a little longer than the other ones you’ve shared and feels different somehow. It feels almost less chaste, especially considering the fact that there’s no one else here to interrupt you. His tongue slips past your lips, and a breathy noise escapes you. 

He pulls you onto his lap and you let him, your thighs now on either side of his waist. He kisses you a few more times before reluctantly pulling away, and the look in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than hungry. “[Name]. I think I’ve been pretty up front about how much I want you.” His tone is low, incredibly serious. 

“You have been. I’ve been the one beating around the bush.” You lean in to steal another kiss, and he’s unable to contain a smile. “So I should tell you the truth, yeah?” He nods, and you lean down until your foreheads are almost touching. You swallow, trying to weigh the pros and cons of revealing this to him right now before deciding that you have absolutely nothing to lose. Especially not if the way he’s moving under you has anything to do with the matter. “After that time we had dinner, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you said to me. You know, the Morse code?” 

His thumb swipes your bottom lip before entering your mouth for real this time. “Yeah? Remind me what I said again.” He glances at you as a silent command, and you obediently suck his finger, receiving a low groan in response. 

“Please don’t make me say it.” Your voice is muffled by his thumb, but you can’t pretend like the sound he just made isn’t doing ungodly things to you. “I’m already admitting to you that I want it.” 

“Well, I suppose your birthday is as good a time as any, isn’t it?” He pretends to consider the prospect, his finger slipping from your mouth. “The best time, actually.” His lips meet yours again, and you feel like you can melt into him. 

“I just have to tell you.” You venture between kisses, figuring it’s only fair to give him a warning. “ I haven’t done… anything…. like this before.” 

He pauses, pulling away from you once more to brush some hair away from your face.“Are you afraid?” 

You shake your head, biting your lip. “Not afraid. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing you ever do can disappoint me, so you can forget that right now.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “In fact, I don’t want you to think about me at all. Just let me make you feel good, alright?” 

“Okay.” It’s all you can say, because his open-mouthed kisses have migrated from your lips to the side of your jaw. 

But he seems to remember something. “But promise me one thing.” 

“Anything.” You reply without hesitation. 

“Promise me that you won’t run from me anymore.” Another kiss to your jaw, then one just below it, further down your throat. “I can’t stand it when you keep away from me, you know that, right?”

“No, I just …” His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck that you had no idea was even there, and your statement is punctuated by your airy moan. “It’s like I told you. I’m so afraid of what I’ll say to you.” 

“I don’t want you to be.” He murmurs into your skin, humming as your hand runs through his hair. “You can say or do anything around me. It won’t change how much I want you or how perfect you are.” 

“I know, it’s just …” He sucks at your neck once more, effectively derailing your already rickety train of thought. “I just…” Then there’s the flick of his tongue against your skin. “God, Ryusui, I can’t think.”

“Good.” His voice is muffled by your neck, but it sounds breathier than usual in a way that’s making you weak. “Don’t think. Just focus on me.” You do a very poor job at suppressing the pathetic noise that falls from your lips. But you can’t help the way it feels like liquid heat has pooled between your legs.  “Good. Just think about this, okay?” You also can’t help the way that your hips have almost subconsciously begun to move against him at the repeated praise. This is all so new, so strange, but so good —

“I am. I have.” You reply, too far gone to realize or care how desperate you sound. “This is all I can think about sometimes.” And as his kisses trail further down your body, you realize that the fear of laying yourself bare before him is already starting to slip away. 

“Me too.” His hands fiddle with the knot securing the back of your top before smoothly undoing it. “So let me take care of you, alright?” Gently removing your top from your body, his lips meet bare skin that no one else has ever touched like this before. Your mouth falls open as you throw your head back, and your eyes flutter shut as stars burst behind your eyelids. 

The ocean meets the shore. The stars crumble to the sea. Everything between you and him is the same and completely different all at once. But you’re also so, so incredibly sure that this is right. So maybe, that’s enough. 

a/n: idk if i can show my face to yall again ts freaked out af. enjoy

[kii-nami]

CONTENTS: VOLUME 16: ON PHONE CALLS, REQUESTS, AND LOVE POTIONS

To your great surprise Senku does call. The first time it happens you are so unprepared you end up asking if he wants you to pass the phone to Gen. There’s a moment of still, foreboding silence before Senku snaps with his favorite deadpan sort of tone, asking why exactly he would want to speak with Gen. You can name at least one hundred and eighty-seven reasons just on top of your head but bite your tongue, opting to apologize instead.

You asked Senku to call you and he did. You don’t exactly know what this means but you pretend like you can’t hear how embarrassed he is even over the grainy audio and push whatever it is that you feel down to the bottom in your stomach. Then you start speaking. How the ship is coming along. Yuzuriha’s progress with the statue restoration project. How you overheard people being worried that they end up running out of food before winter even hits. There’s a little bit more context to that one but both you and Senku know that this concern is applicable to your current situation, anyway. There are a lot more people now for him to take care of, and some preserved meat and vegetables won’t suffice. He sighs, promising to think of something. You apologize for adding more problems to his plate. He doesn’t even have enough time to dismiss you before Kohaku interrupts the call to monopolize your attention for another Love Island Japan update.

You think that’s it. Senku begrudgingly gave you want you begged him to do to get you off his back and now he is free from your pestering up until you see each other again. You are wrong. Senku calls again a couple of days later and when you call yourself the next evening, he picks up the phone. It continues like that all throughout the summer. Sometimes you can hear Kohaku’s voice pushing through the static noise before Senku yells back that he’s busy. Sometimes Gen pops up to say hello, whispering something that is not for your ears to hear. Sometimes it’s just the two of you and the static on both sides of the line, before Ukyo apologizes for interrupting and the call ends with a rushed goodbye.

Today, however, Senku seems to be in high spirits, and you aren’t even fast enough to ask what got him so excited when he speaks. Rather cryptically, at that. “Kohaku should be there by tomorrow.”

“Something’s wrong?” You ask, unsure what exactly to expect. It’s definitely not oil. Senku would have announced it differently and in front of other people, but he also uses your calls as PSAs these days so you guess anything can happen at this point.

“We found wheat the other day,” he explains before laughing. You sure as hell know they couldn’t find a stray Komugi. Your Shibuya girl friend is pestering Nikki right now about how cute she is, so they must have found the actual crops. And that snickering of his is one of Senku’s sleazy cackles, so you can pretty much imagine his next words already. “Ryusui said he’ll pay for labor.”

Senku’s laughter is a rather contagious little thing. You allow yourself exactly one minute of giggling along before you put a stop on this nonsense and get back to the important stuff. As fun as it is that Senku swindled Ryusui again, the message is clear. You have a job to do, and you will do your absolute best to make sure everything is according to some invisible stamp of perfection that you strive for. Moreover, Senku trusts you take care of things, even if he doesn’t exactly admit it out loud, and you hate disappointing people you care about.

“I’ll figure something out,” you promise. “Take care.”

“Sure you will,” Senku quips. You can almost see the curve of his lips when he says that. “Thanks.”

Wheat farming turns out to be one hell of heavy labor. Granted, Taiju is astonishingly good at this, having not only his endless stamina and dedication to the cause but also a whole array of Senku-mandated agriculture tips up his sleeve. Gen does his best to keep the momentum going with his cheap tricks, and soon everyone involved is far too fired up over the prospect of winning a hat that Gen literally brought to Yuzuriha because he didn’t want her to get a heatstroke. Always at the scene of a competitive crime, Magma and Yo clearly don’t get why Taiju’s wheat is sprouting while theirs isn’t, and you have to bring out the big guns in a form of litmus paper to clarify just how exactly pH levels affect the environment. When you explain the whole thing to Senku he just crackles and tells you to pass the big oaf his best regards for remembering how to neutralize acidic soil with calcium. You tell him that he should congratulate his friend in person.

In the end Taiju gets his cool new hat and Senku does pop by to congratulate him. Ryusui and Reina are suspiciously too close in the balloon cart, so you confirm that you won your bet and Minami should pay up. Deciding to tease the lovebirds too much, you don’t bring up the fact that the sailor owes Taiju and his team an atrocious sum of money for their labor, opting to leave them alone for now. It’s not like you need a crash course on their love life, anyway. You know everything in meticulous detail from Kohaku and her enthusiasm for all things romance. It’s cute, also a little bit disturbing, but you guess you can’t expect anything but overzealousness from the resident loverboy extraordinaire. Good for Reina, really. You are happy for her and–

“Good job.” Senku sounds so casual, that bastard, as if he hasn’t just almost sent you into a cardiac arrest by popping from out of nowhere like that. You despise this guy sometimes, you swear. And is it really necessary to look at you like that? You are going through heart palpitations here and whatever the hell that look of his is, it doesn’t help in the slightest. Gripping the burgundy fabric of your dress right over your chest, you try to calm down your racing heart and rapid breath. And the asshole has the guts to laugh at you. “Not overworking yourself, are you?”

“You know damn well how lazy I am, Senku,” you deny any involvement in the wheat cultivating success with a little to no effort and a tad bit too quickly. You are awful but not to such an extent as to rob people of their achievements just to get a pat on the back from Ishigami Senku. Even if he gives out some damn good pats. “Taiju worked hard on this. I’m just riding the wave to get some more money out of Ryusui,” you grumble through your teeth, still a little spooked. Senku doesn’t look particularly convinced by your self-admitted laziness, which is just weird. You are as uninspired about physical labor as Gen is, Senku should know this by now. Still, it’s nice to hear some earnest praise thrown your way once in a while. Even if you did a bare minimum of putting a couple of people together so they can do all the job for you. You’re such an attention-seeking nuisance, aren’t you? Damn it. At least it’s a nice segue into what you actually wanted to talk with Senku about. “But if you really want to congratulate us on a job well done…”

You cut your sentence short, unsure how to go about it in a way that won’t make you seem like you are demanding things instead of actually asking questions. The start of your sentence is already pretty poor, so all you can do is just continue digging your own grave. You already proved to yourself that the last thing Senku can do is refuse. It won’t really change much if he refuses, really. You understand Senku has more important things to care about than your whims. But it will help a lot if Senku gives you a time of day to give a quick rundown on a blueprint or two. You can take it from there, too, so you won’t waste too much of his time. Things have been so very slow without him around, especially for the more peculiar individuals of your bunch, and you think it’s a good idea to put some restless minds to work before they wither.

“Well?” Senku tilts his head to the side before sighing, a little annoyed with your stalling. Then Senku notices you aren’t exactly paying him any attention, too busy overthinking your own choices, so he snaps his fingers right in front of your face. You shudder, but it does the job. “Are you gonna talk or are we gonna be standing here all day?”

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You’ve been saying this a lot these days. Senku won’t think you are stupid for asking questions, you went over this one already. Still, you don’t want to sound too ungrateful by putting more pressure on him. Gen is right, you really are just pulling problems out of thin air to sabotage yourself. But it’s not really your fault that doubting yourself is borderline engraved in your DNA at this point. It takes up to almost three hundred days to break a habit, and relapsing is a natural step towards recovery. This may just be a ‘two steps forward, one step back’ thing but one step in the right direction is still progress.

“Is there a way for us to record music now the same way Byakuya-san did?” You ask at last.

Senku considers your words for a second, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. “I guess so?” He says. It’s noncommittal. It’s clear Senku already knows whether it’s possible or not, he just doesn’t want to tell you. “Why? Not a big fan of Lillian Weinberg?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you look at the patch of golden wheat amongst the sea of green. “It will be a long winter, that’s all.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Senku deflects.

It’s not a no, and if you can judge the patterns, it’s basically a yes dressed in a very vague disguise just to save face. You guess it’s fair. You’d like to think you know Senku a little better now, but he’s always been like that since the very beginning and sometimes you wonder exactly why it’s so hard for him to be open with his emotions. You’re not the one to talk, but human mind is still the most fascinating poison you’ve ever had a chance of tasting. And you must have lost yourself staring at the rustling waves of wheat, because Senku clicks his fingers again.

“Any more requests, doc?” Senku asks, leaning in just a bit, and you need to force yourself to stay still so you won’t back away on accident. Senku’s eyes are too intense for you sometimes, that’s all. But you need to keep eye contact going, otherwise you lose whatever the hell this staring contest is. However one-sided it may be. “Since I am your personal on-demand engineer now.”

Yes, you still think Senku’s eyes are the most expressive thing you’ve ever seen, and you know just how often your face betrays you. You guess it’s the shape and the color. Senku is clearly not fully Japanese. Your best guess one of his biological parents was from somewhere around the Caribbean. But that just adds to your overall confusion. This shade of almost-red is rare. But so is white hair, especially with the clear wave pattern he has zero clue how to manage.

Byakuya never mentioned anything about albinism, and you know damn well that he would have. You also could have forgotten, too, of course. But Senku himself has never complained about bad eyesight or having issues with going out in the sun. He is also not the one to complain about his own grievances and you would never truly know unless you ask. You’re also staring like a creep, aren’t you? Well, it happens even to the best soldiers of love such as yourself. You just hope Senku doesn’t call you out on it, that would be too humiliating even for you.

And you know Senku is being sarcastic. You shouldn’t take his words seriously when he sounds all cocky like that. Still, you give one look at Taiju and Yuzuriha, conversing with the newly appointed couple a bit farther away. Maybe this is a bit more urgent than some new, shiny records. A bit more useful, too. “Bicycles?”

Senku follows your line of sight, a contemplative frown tugging at the corners of his lips before something flashes in those eyes of his and he scoffs. “Do you even know how to ride one?” He asks rather incredulously.

You want to say that you aren’t even the slightest bit offended by just how little faith Senku has in your physical prowess but that would be a lie. You can’t even blame him for doubting you this time around. Given your awful track record with not being able to swim, or run, or lift anything over ten kilos without huffing and puffing. It’s really a miracle Senku even asks before outright stating that. And he’s right, too. You can’t ride a bicycle, or at the very least you don’t have any memories of knowing how to. Trusting your memory is rotten work, you are aware. But with how awful those tremors of yours used to be sometimes, you aren’t sure you qualified for a balancing act on a bike back then.

“That’s beside the point,” you huff, trying to change the subject before Senku gets too proud of himself for calling you out on your ineptitude. Of course, your resident perfect genius knows how to swim, and can ride a bike, and he is probably allowed on roller coaster rides at USJ, too. Unlike a certain someone by the name of Shinomiya [Name]. Is there anything this guy can’t do? You hate Ishigami Senku. Positively despise him. “Please, Senku.” And yet, you still beg him for help. How the mighty have fallen, groveling all over again. It’s not for you, anyway. It’s for the betterment of society. “Everyone is working so hard these days, but it’s a pain to walk here every morning. Yuzuriha’s been coming over with joint aches, too.” And it clearly annoys Senku, too. If judging by his rather unimpressed, vacant expression and those tightly wound shoulders, at least. So it’s just a win in your books. And you love winning against him. “Please, Senku. I will do anything–”

You guess using Yuzuriha against him is a bit of a low blow, but it sure does the job. Senku interrupts you before you can finish your sentence and sell all three of your future children to him. “Sure, if you want them that bad.” Senku’s deadpan mumble is a rather telling thing, and along with the absolute look of disgust on his face it makes for a pretty evident picture. You grin. Senku rolls his eyes at you so hard, one might think you are the bane of his existence. And you guess you are to an extent. “You’re gonna be the one explaining this to Kaseki, you know that, right?”

You shrug, satisfied with the compromise. “We did just fine with the telescope before,” you admit casually. Then you notice the questioning look in Senku’s eyes and realize it’s the first time that you admitted your involvement with that specific thing. You clear your throat awkwardly, urgently rushing to save your face before Senku thinks you actually put effort into that one. You did. Too much of it, in fact. But it’s irrelevant to the current matter at hand. “And other stuff, too.”

Senku hums in agreement, once again looking over to where Taiju and Yuzuriha are. “I guess it will be useful in the long run,” he says, a little less stiff. Cracking his knuckles, Senku unceremoniously opens your satchel and digs for your journal. “Single speed’s enough, right?” Senku asks, as if he actually expects you to respond. He seems to be genuinely apologetic too, that guy. Who does Senku think you are? But better yet, who does Senku think he is? He really loves stealing stuff from you, that bastard. From your nitric acid, to your unpaid labor, to your sleep, to your pencils, to your medicine cabinet, to now your own damn diary. What if you had something inappropriate in your bag, then what? “I don’t have the time for anything too fancy, sorry.”

“More than,” you mumble, still very much grateful for his help even if he technically stole from you just now. “Thank you, Senku.”

“It’s nothing,” he answers, still scribbling over a two-page spread of your journal.

Senku silent for a while and it takes you a good fifteen minutes to gather what little courage your self-proclaimed cowardly mind has to come a little closer. A little peek at what exactly Senku is drawing up for you won’t hurt, but before you can even steal a glance, he turns around and then snaps the journal shut. Then he hides it back in your satchel and scratches his ear as if everything is perfectly normal. Talk about being a complete freak.

“See ya,” Senku says, throwing you a lackluster peace sign and then promptly distancing himself from you.

“Call me when you get back,” you remind him.

“Yes, Senku-chan, call her,” Gen says mockingly, popping out of nowhere and admittedly capturing you hostage by wrapping his arms around your shoulders to bring you closer to his chest. “Or you’ll be eally-ray missing out.”

“Gen,” you mumble, nothing more than a reprimanding slap on the wrist for the mentalist you are supposed to keep in check. “Behave, please.”

Rolling his eyes for what feels like a hundredth time today, Senku walks away without even letting you say a proper goodbye. Gen giggles. You have no idea what’s so funny about irritating Senku into an Irish goodbye, but Gen definitely knows something that you don’t. Maybe he also likes winning against someone like Ishigami Senku, whatever games those two play. Your best guess is that it’s their manly male solidarity or whatever the hell they call it. It’s fine, everyone is allowed their own secrets. You sure have a share of your own, rather shameful ones at that.

Despite never agreeing to anything Senku calls in two hours to check in. Then he calls again the next morning to inform you that they suck at making bread and Reina’s efforts are apparently not enough to pacify Ryusui’s endless greed. The sailor is far too picky for his good and is now demanding to revive a professional chef. You clear your throat, awkwardly pointing out that you are, in fact, out of revival fluid. Then you almost go deaf, not expecting Ryusui to barge into your conversation out of nowhere. He points out his suspicion of Minami hanging onto some revival fluid. Before either you or Gen can disprove the notion, Reina backs Ryusui up by stating she noticed something clanking in Minami’s headpiece before.

You sigh, pointing out that she won’t just be giving something as valuable as revival fluid for free. Gen chimes in, reminding just how high the price of bribing Minami is this time around. Something rustles on the other side of the line, so you guess they are fighting for the speaker and Senku wins, admitting that he’s been thinking about making a camera for a while now. For the sake of oil search, of course, but this just gives him all the more reason to hurry up. Two birds with one stone again, you suppose.

Minami is so ecstatic to upgrade her newspaper into an issue with photographs that she surrenders her stash or revival fluid without a second thought. You don’t correct her, even if you know full well it’s probably going to be a daguerreotype and not a modern camera she’s imagining right now. But you guess that even a glass photo is better than none at all. Under Senku’s long distance guidance you and Kaseki finish up with the bicycles just in time to start the search for the person Ryusui picked to be your professional chef. Fortunately for everyone involved, really.

Francois is a peculiar person. They are also an outstanding specimen. They give you nothing by their name and occupation and then almost drag Gen into a wild goose chase in search of Ryusui before you stop them and show them to the bikes. The five-hour bicycle ride around the coast is much more enjoyable than a two-day walk on foot through the woods, and you give yourself a metaphorical pat on the back for your insight. You do leave Yuzuriha, Nikki and Minami with only one bike to share, however, but they can take a brisk journey back to the Empire way easier than you.

Gen is barely alive when you arrive at the village, given he has to survive the ride with you clinging to his back. Reina waves her hand excitedly. She’s positively glowing, and you give her a quick hug, whispering a teasing remark or two in her ear, before you run off to greet everyone else. Ukyo is, for the lack of better words, absolutely traumatized and you offer him your silent condolences and a firm pat on his back. Chrome and Kohaku insist on your trying out the bread and you politely decline. As much as you love poison, you are not about to eat straight up dirt unless in times of famine. As per your prophetic expectations those two are perplexed by your refusal and see nothing wrong with the charred pieces of coal-like dough they’re chewing on. Francois, however, is so utterly disgusted with the state of the bread Ryusui shows them, they almost puke.

Nothing if not efficient, soon they not only organize a full-blown bakery class, but also help your own business tremendously. The first ever stone world restaurant is now established, and you use the newly acquired goat milk and your favorite freeze-dried berries to make a new batch of skincare that Ryusui buys from you the second he spots you putting lotion on your legs. You, now a couple thousand dragos richer, grin devilishly. With Ryusui distracted by creams and lotions, you can now get to the fun part of testing actual makeup and shampoos while Senku is giving free lessons on mirror making.

You’ve been thinking of starting to sell makeup for a while now. Partly because Komugi keeps pestering you about feeling naked without her gyaru getup, partly because you want the girls to have some fun when Senku finally pulls through with his promise of making a makeshift recording device. The winter will be long and for the most part taskless, so a little party won’t hurt. Especially it won’t hurt the economy when you end up selling tickets to get in. Alcohol and some nice music do wonders for uplifting the mood, after all.

You are inexplicably elated to be back in Ishigami village. It almost feels like coming home, even if it also feels a little odd to not go back to the storehouse when you retire for the night. With so many empty huts you definitely have no reason to stay there but when Gen cheekily offers to crash at his place, you awkwardly decline. Despite the nature of your connection, it still feels terribly wrong to live with Gen, albeit temporarily. Yes, you get physical and kiss in public sometimes, but you aren’t dating. So you opt to stay over at Kohaku’s hut, terrorized by the silence of your empty room back at the Empire.

It’s something that earns you a perplexed glance from Reina, who still thinks that you and Gen are officially together. She and Ryusui are now apparently moving two hundred per hour and all but got married in the span of one month. You don’t grace her with a response when she asks why exactly you decided to stick with Kohaku when you can just share a futon with your unlabeled not-boyfriend and the look on her face when you deflect is telling. You don’t want to unpack this one just yet, so you just tug Senku on the sleeve and remind him that you need to update Minami on your progress.

The journalist is understandably mad about her camera not being ready yet and you try your best to explain that you actually won’t be able to finish it without Kaseki present. The man is old and won’t be able to handle such a taxing trip, and the bicycle that remains in the Empire is occupied by Taiju for the most part. Fortunately for Minami, Kaseki is still bored out of his damn mind. So much, in fact, that even after being swindled by Komugi into crafting her a set of drums he still feels completely jobless. Gen offers Minami to steal Taiju’s bike and take a ride down the steep hill to the village. Minami huffs, giving Gen a clear direction to where exactly he should go to find enlightenment and promptly ending the call.

Two days later Minami and Kaseki show up on an upgraded Steam Gorilla, shocking even Senku himself. You can’t help but laugh. That’s what you meant when you said that humanity is at their most brilliant when they’re spiteful. The camera is finished in the span of a week. Well, one of the cameras, as they’re obviously just a tool for the oil search more than a gift for Minami. Still, ignorant of Senku’s ulterior motives, Minami can’t fight back tears. You are glad she got what she wanted, even if you have to help Kohaku with moving the extra cameras to the hot air balloon before Senku gets to ruin Minami’s moment with his never-ending pragmatism.

Naturally, Minami is excited to take the first ever post-petrification event photo and Ryusui is quick to offer to buy it from her. As glad as you are that he is adhering to your agreement and doesn’t try to appropriate this for himself, Minami is obviously enraged over the fact. Luckily for all of you, Ryusui is perfect. He knows just who exactly should be the subject of the photo that he’s going to put in the Nanami Museum later down the line. Senku is not impressed by being dragged into this but can’t escape the sheer force of peer pressure, crumbling under everyone’s rather intense enthusiasm.

One look inside the bags Francois is holding, you choke on a snort and put a stop on Minami’s hyper rambling. Then you kindly offer to prepare Senku for the photoshoot before Minami and Ryusui get overzealous and start putting him in frilly dresses from Reina’s vast wardrobe. Minami gasps, as dramatic as she is, hitting Reina on the shoulder excitedly. Kohaku grins at you, all catty, and throws you a thumbs up. Your perplexed frown is telling, but Gen waves his hand dismissively and ushers you to move on with it.

“What is there to prepare?” Senku snaps the second you push him up the observatory and close the door behind you. “She just needs to press a button and we’re done.”

“I saved your ass just now,” you hiss, dropping the bags with clothes on the floor. “Be grateful.”

Senku scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. You get it, Senku isn’t happy about this whole ordeal, but he should know that it could have been way worse if you weren’t such a nosy little thing sometimes. You are saving his dignity here, really. Or, more accurately, you are saving yourself the time you would have spent laughing over Senku in a frilly dress. That’s just not a thing you want to see, no offense. But if he wants to put it on, then sure. Who are you to deny him the luxury of cross-dressing even if you aren’t particularly into it. Gen sure has no issues utilizing a dress to confuse the weak-minded sometimes. But then again, everything except murder is fair and no low is ever too low. Especially when scamming the infamous one percent of the one percent of the stone world’s Forbes List out of money.

With one rather strained kick, you push the bags towards Senku. He gives them one scrutinizing look before digging his hand in a random one and pulling out one of the worst options he could have gotten his hands on. Senku’s luck is truly nonexistent, or maybe whoever it was that Francois assigned to collect Ryusui’s wardrobe had no idea what they’re doing. Or they just have some interesting sense of humor. That’s probably just Minami being petty for taking too long with the camera, isn’t it? Most definitely.

“What the hell is this?” It’s actually a little unclear whether Senku’s question is rhetorical or he’s genuinely confused about the integral structure of the garment. You, yourself, aren’t exactly aware how all those strings are supposed to combine into a clothing piece but there’s a chunk of solid white fabric in there somewhere, so you guess it’s another backless dress. Just suited to be worn only indoors. Probably in private, too. Or outside, if that’s Reina’s thing, you aren’t the one to judge. You’re actually pretty damn jealous she can pull it off, really. “Can’t wait to pose for the lithic gravure magazine in this thing.”

You do a terrible job at suppressing the snort at the sardonic comment, or the way Senku drops the dress back into the paper bag with a little too no will to live and pushes it towards you. “Probably Reina’s,” you state the obvious, then laugh, kicking the bag back to Senku. “Want it?”

One sharp look from Senku is more than enough to shut you up and you decide not to push the line too much. Some lighthearted teasing is fine, but you’re actually playing his white knight here, not an evil witch. You search through the assortment of clothing to find the suit you spotted, giving it a good once-over to access just how big it would be on Senku. You guess Ryusui’s greed really knows no bounds, because this definitely is far too small on someone of his statue. Luckily for you, however, it should be just around Senku’s size. He really owes you for this one, so many things you need to hide in your secret booze stash after you’re done here.

You separate your pick from the rest of the terrible options, and beckon Senku to take a seat next to the window where the telescope used to be. He does so, albeit reluctantly and complaining under his breath. But you did promise Minami you are going to make a Vogue model out of your resident genius, so you are going to do just that. Even if you are surely pushing boundaries with this one. Disappointing men in power is pretty high on your metaphorical fear ladder, so exposure therapy it is.

“With how ass the resolution is on that thing, this stuff is useless,” Senku reasonably points when he notices you taking out all the different jars from your satchel. He’s right, nobody will be able to tell the difference, but it’s not really about whether Senku has his dark circles professionally color corrected but the fact that you need to actually do something to sell your lie. Not to Minami herself, but to Francois. They are far too perceptive; it’s kind of terrifying.

So you shrug, poking the wooden side of the makeup brush against Senku’s undereye. “Your eyebags are the size of Antarctica. You look like a dead raccoon right now,” you say and just to drive your point home you show Senku his own reflection. Exhausted and, for the lack of better words, unimpressed, he stares back at the mirror with vacant eyes. You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Okay, fine,” you admit, giving up on your obvious ploy. “I just want to test this out. Please?”

“I really don’t care about stuff like that, [Name],” Senku repeats himself.

It’s not a no, so you push one of the logs lying around to use as your knee rest and get to work on removing those pesky dark circles of his. You don’t even need to do much, really. This guy is lucky with just about everything other than what actually matters to him. But damn, how unfair. Men wash their face with some water and flesh-corroding soap and somehow still have that perfect glass skin.

“I know,” you nod, slapping Senku on the shoulder so he sits back straight. Your jealousy over Senku’s complexion aside, it’s obvious that he’s not actually talking about makeup but the whole photoshoot thing. For someone like him it really is a waste of time. He’d rather just set off with the search party again than be here with you, but there are some things Senku needs to sacrifice as a leader now. Even if it is unfair to ask those of him, in a way. “But they do. You are kind of the heart of this whole thing, you know.”

You don’t mean to put it like that, but even if it’s a rather embarrassing thing to admit, that’s what Senku is in his core. It all returns to the fact that to be a true leader, one must first be chosen by the people. In an ideal world, it’s not about making compromises by choosing the lesser evil, but about picking the person you deem the most suitable. Your choice falls onto the one you like the most. This world is a far cry from a utopia, but you just won this one-in-a-ten-billion lottery by getting Senku as an option. God knows you don’t want to choose between an evil guy with a criminal record and another evil guy who was just lucky enough to not get caught on his crimes.

Senku falls silent for a moment, trying to process what exactly you said to him and what it really means. You guess even someone like Ishigami Senku needs some time to get used to the fact that the people around him actually care about him and not the things he can offer them. Although you can’t help but wonder if Senku has those kinds of doubts in the first place. A thing that seems very much out of character for someone who does his utmost best to pretend to be cool and unbothered. If only Senku weren’t so quick to cover up his tracks.

Senku’s whole face contorts in disdain, and you smack him on the shoulder again to remind him to stay still. “Not the brain, really?”

You snicker. Of course, Ishigami Senku wants to be the brain. “Basic biology,” you remind him. “Brain can’t survive without a heart. We depend on you a lot more than we should.”

You are a bit too honest today, but that’s just the truth. One that Senku doesn’t seem to accept, it looks like. “You’ll manage.”

Once again dismissive, Senku repeats these exact words to you for what feels like a hundredth time. It’s only the third, but it’s not like you are counting or remembering every single thing he says. That’s just ridiculous. Senku also doesn’t really get what he actually represents at this point. It’s not about managing to get by anymore. Not a single person here would bother following someone else even if a malevolent miracle occurs and Hyoga somehow escapes his prison cell to wreak havoc upon these lands. And you did promise to kill yourself if that ever happens, so here’s your answer to that hypothetical.

“No, Senku. Not anymore.” You shake your head and bite the tip of the makeup brush, giving your work one last scrutinizing look. The shade isn’t exactly the perfect match, but you think nobody except Kohaku will notice the difference. It’s a shame. You don’t exactly have all the right ingredients but at least you like the formula. Looks pretty damn even. You guess that will suffice for now, even if the fact that it’s not perfect makes you yearn for a lobotomy just a little bit. You pass Senku a mirror, then you grin. “You look great, right? Eight hours of sleep do wonders to a man of science.” He doesn’t reply, opting to stare wordlessly at you with that deadpan and vacant stare of his. You take it as the cue that you overstayed your welcome. “Get dressed and if all fails you can always cosplay Einstein.”

Senku ends up cosplaying Einstein. Minami is far too meticulous and when Ryusui sends Francois looking for another set of clothes that isn’t a suit, you pretend like you have no idea where the bags went. You won’t know how the photo turns out until later, but you do ask Senku to spare a couple of mirror plates on you and the girls. He shrugs, telling you to knock yourself out. Minami giggles for whatever reason, before you call her in to join you, Reina, and Kohaku in the photo. Francois is kind enough to offer to be a camera person and soon you waste a lot of film on just fooling around with the camera up until Senku drags your resident wild cats back to work on the balloon.

With the reinvention of a camera things pick up immense speed. You and Gen return back to the Empire, not wanting to waste your time on dilly dallying. You feel far too awkward being pestered by Reina over your sleeping arrangements and there are a lot of winter preparations to be done there, anyway. You need to feel useful again, so you go back to your Senku phone updates schedule up until October. Francois’ restaurant is thriving and while in search for truffles all of you know she can’t find above ground, Kohaku ends up spotting a minuscule spec of black that turns out to be the Sagara Oil Field. Nanami conglomerate gets its black gold at last, and you have just the funds to buy it all.

The party returns soon after, with Senku announcing that you are straying off course to build a motorboat. Gen blinks at him dumbly before resigning it all to fate and you just roll out a parchment big enough to fit the blueprint. Then you add salt to the wound by asking if the motorboat is actually for testing the GPS you will be starting on soon. Senku cackles. You receive your ten billion points for being right. Gen turns paper white before begrudgingly putting himself together. You end up splitting the work, with you and Gen getting to upgrade the communication tower into a radio beacon and Senku, along with his craft team, gets to tinker with the Stirling engine for the boat.

By the time you are done with the boat it’s already November. Surprisingly, you don’t argue over the passengers this time, with Senku just dropping the list of names and telling you it’s nonnegotiable. If Senku expects you to protest, he doesn’t get the satisfaction of another debate. You want to ride that boat, too, even if you can’t swim. Yuzuriha didn’t spend all that time sewing six life jackets for you to just bail like that. Gen offers to pull yet another card trick of his to make sure Ryusui doesn’t demand money for his services, but you just ask Reina to tell him to come for free. He does.

The weather is amazing for November, and the sea is surprisingly calm. It really seems like just the right time to set out on a little seaside adventure, even if it absolutely stinks of gasoline in here. You offhandedly congratulate Senku on the job well done and he dismisses you. As expected, of course, that guy can’t take a compliment to save his life. But Senku then puts his hand on his hip and smirks, stating that the ship will be the real deal, and you’ll just have to wait and see. You don’t doubt that, not in the slightest, so you just laugh and pretend like you can’t hear Reina making any unsolicited comments. Uncalled for, really.

Next to you Taiju sniffs the air, muttering something about a love potion under his breath and then smiles. It’s genuinely happy and so damn bright you think you go blind for a moment. Only Taiju decides that temporary blinding everyone is not enough and hits the second tower right after. “Are you in love with someone, Senku?”

Just as shell-shocked at the rest of you, Senku blinks at his best friend in confusion. Gen cackles, the sly fox that he is, leaning in to whisper something in Senku’s ear. Really born in the wrong generation, that guy. Gen would have done wonderfully as a scheming eunuch, plotting behind some incompetent emperor’s back. You guess he achieved that one, in a way, granted your situation. But Gen still keeps meddling even after the not-so-evil Tsukasa gets locked in the cryo chamber and his new liege has a good head on his shoulders. Mediocrity can never satisfy Asagiri Gen, can it? It makes you wonder why the hell Gen even bothers with you sometimes. You guess the lack of better options got him feeling desperate. Lucky you. Which makes this whole thing so stupid. You are despicable.

Red-eared and fuming, Senku whacks Gen over his head. Then he clears his throat and laughs, stating that if even Taiju can recognize the smell of gasoline, then he did a pretty good job with it. Which just leads to Taiju going over his evidently eventful, albeit very high-school drama sort of romance with Yuzuriha and how Senku tried tricking him into drinking his gasoline love potion. A dangerous thing, but very telling, considering Senku knew for sure that not only Taiju wouldn’t stoop as low as to manipulate Yuzuriha’s feelings but also the extent of trust Senku has in his friends. It’s admirable how much of a great person Ishigami Senku really is. But you’ve been praising him far too often these days, haven’t you? A slippery slope, this one.

You grind your teeth and shake your head, focusing on what really matters. Suika flips the switch and you catch Empire’s signal right in the middle of the open sea. By the laugher and eager muttering on the other side of the line you guess everyone is ushering Ruri to confess to Chrome. No better than he is, she fails. In about a moment all your romance drama seems particularly insignificant when static breaches through the signal, interrupting the conversation and completely cutting your connection with land.

Dots and dashes. It doesn’t take much time to figure out that it’s not just an equipment issue. You always found it fascinating how a human can drown in a spoonful of water, but you never expected for your life to be changed by three letters only. W-H-Y. You’ve never felt more grateful for Reina, you wouldn’t have brushed your international Morse code skills without her. But this is it, right? That’s not a mistake, not at all. There is no such thing as a coincidence in the world of science.

This right here is the entity that petrified humanity all those years ago and now it’s back, demanding to know why you are still alive and kicking after they went through all that trouble of getting rid of you. Senku surely realizes it too, that’s why you lock eyes for a long, drawn-out moment just to see him absolutely, positively seething. You must be grinning like a maniac again, too, but you can’t help yourself. You and Senku agreed to find this thing together, and now it’s finally the time to open this Pandora’s box one dot and dash at a time. Isn’t it just so damn exciting?

You spend the rest of the evening trying to contact the entity through the phone but ultimately fail. From Morse to the vast array of languages Reina has under her belt, to some good old rage baiting. All fails. You return to back to the Empire wound up and borderline vibrating, and the so-called war assembly is established that very day. Senku casually offers you to join in on the conversation, apparently being the resident against-your-own-will medic warrants a seat in the war room. You think that if Kohaku isn’t there amongst the leaders of the nation as your finest fighter, then you shouldn’t be present either.

You also don’t want to be alone amidst the stench of testosterone, and you really don’t feel qualified to be plotting anything of sort with the rest of them. You’d rather keep it casual between you, Gen, and Senku. God knows Ukyo doesn’t need to hear any of your nonsensical ideas, he has enough on his plate as is. So you deny, stating that if you have something to say then you will let him know, up close and personal. Senku shrugs, seemingly unbothered, and then leaves Gen’s room without much else except the loud bang of the door closing behind him.

Gen quirks his brow, already scheming and you plead him to behave. You must be doing a pretty lousy job this time, because he presses a chaste kiss on your cheek and then laughs, saying that you should really start paying more attention to people other than him. Whatever that means, you don’t want to know. So you don’t ask. Just tug him by the collar so you can kiss him properly and tell him he has exactly one hour before you need to go clock into the academy for your teaching duty. Gen is nothing if not opportunistic, but the look he gives you when you kiss him goodbye is confusing. You ask what’s wrong. You wish you didn’t.

“Do you think it’s ossible-pay to want more than one person at a time?” Gen’s question puts you in a stupor and you need a good minute or two to just process his words.

“Is this your way of saying you want to see other people?” You ask, a tad bit too dismissive for your liking over a question like this. You should feel some sort of way over this, but you don’t feel much of anything right now. Not that you think it’s impossible to be emotionally invested in two people like that, but for you personally? You don’t think so. Suddenly feeling extremely stupid, you can’t believe Gen even got you contemplating stuff like that. You sigh, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “If so, then you can do whatever the hell you want, Gen. We aren’t exactly dating now, are we?” Laughing at last, you blink at Gen with a tired look that is bordering confusion. “What, your first option got you all hot and bothered after all?”

Gen unblinkingly stares at you, a disappointed sort of look in his eyes. Whatever he wanted to test with this question of his, you guess you failed. “Please don’t put words in my mouth, [Name]-chan,” he mutters, a little offended. Then Gen reaches out to fix your dress’ collar and tucks a stray wallflower in your hair. He giggles right after, whatever true emotions he let slip through the crack of his mask long gone. “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that at all, eally-ray.”

Not in the mood for any more mind games, you step aside, plucking the flower from your hair and return it back to Gen. Sharp-eyed and somewhat hurt by your rejection, he follows your every step until you have nowhere left to run. “Gen, I’m late,” you say, warning him to keep meddling to the minimum. “Reina will eat me alive.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” A misleading question. The cunning smile this fox has on is painstakingly designed just for you. You failed the test, after all. And now you have no right to go back to fix your mistakes. It’s far too late and a time machine is a thing that is not yet possible. You can only move forwards, so Gen does. You trip over the edge of the bed and Gen allows himself to fall along with you. “That’s my burden.”

You wonder what you missed by not really listening.

hii, this is a short one. 8.1k words only.

senku has made some calls. mc has made some requests. gen has made some questionable decisions. if i could i would have probably written every single phone call senku and mc had but we would've been here for like the next 10 chapters with just them awkwardly talking.

on the brighter note! francois is finally here. whyman shows up. they did not fry sagara. taiju thinks senku's in love and gen really thinks he's a eunuch. he would have made rounds as the concubine's second favorite eunuch in the apothecary diaries lmao.

the next chapter is technically the end of the genmc arc of the fic and the chapters 18-26 are them being messy, so good luck. also it's the treasure island arc with a little twist. god knows i hate writing canon scenes so much.

side note: komugi is wheat in japanese, that's why mc brings her up when senku is talking about, well, wheat lmao.

see you next friday, bye <3

[sewersaga]

hi reina

[sewersaga]

an updated reina! will send when the full art is done but she’s in an orange swimsuit (you will see in like ch 14???)

[sewersaga]

ACT X: AY, NO PUEDO

And just like that, the stone age economy is in full swing with the need to barter almost entirely eliminated all of the sudden. That doesn’t mean you don’t partake in both the old and new means of exchange with you and your friends still happily exchanging goods and services. You also occasionally sell tasty fried snacks akin to the street food vendors that line the streets of Puerto Rico. Still, something about making the people you’re close with pay for anything you have to offer feels strange to you, so you often slip them meat and fish fritters and shoo them away before they can even think of giving you any Dragos. Although Miharu ensures that you’re getting more than your fair share of compensation for your impromptu tutoring services, so you’re fine in that regard. 

A cute bulletin board is set up shortly after on your doctor friend’s behalf, to which she is absolutely ecstatic. You watch her joy from afar, smiling at yourself as the board quickly fills up with important notices and doodles alike. It seems like everyone was craving a public forum to share news or even just bullshit for the sake of sharing bullshit. You’re not the biggest fan of the recent comic that seems to have appeared; the one that depicts a very familiar dragon being scammed out of his money by some suspicious characters, but the art style is very cute. 

You try to keep yourself more and more distracted these days for the sole purpose of forgetting about… the extenuating circumstances in your life right now. After all, the world seems to be developing at lightning speed, and here you are hung up on the past. You get the feeling that all of your friends think you’re ridiculous, and you don’t blame them. Miharu seems pretty insistent that you take Ryusui up on his numerous offers to make you his. You don’t want to belong to anyone, not right now, and when you tell her as much she simply snickers in a way that makes you think she knows you’re going to change your mind. 

It doesn’t matter, because she steers the conversation in a completely different direction when she asks you about Minami. You’re silently grateful that she’s allowing you the benefit of the doubt when it comes to any feelings you may or may not have for the stone world’s resident captain, but you’re equally confused by her bringing up the journalist out of nowhere. Until she elaborates that she likes the idea of creating a newspaper to document the recent changes happening around you all. You’re quick to support the notion; an informed public is a happy and healthy public, after all. Plus it will most certainly do Minami’s mental health some good to get back to her passion, even if it can’t be at the same scale as before. 

But you know one of the reasons that Miharu is bringing this up to you is that she knows Minami isn’t very fond of her right now. Although honestly, the amount of people the blonde tolerates at the moment can be counted on one hand anyways. But it still seems that the vendetta she has against Miharu is somewhat personal, and frankly you’re sick of it. You’ve actually been avoiding her lately for that reason, although you still consider her a friend. You just can’t stand behind the various off-color comments she’s made at Miharu’s expense for the sake of a man who would want nothing more than for her to forgive. 

But Minami doesn’t know that, and this fact is what keeps you from building any resentment towards her. All of this to say that Miharu is trying to gauge the waters between her and Minami before stepping foot into the deep end. You shrug. “I’m not sure what her initial reaction to you will be, but it’s certainly worth a try.” Isn’t this new world all about experimenting? She runs off to work on the trial issue so she’ll have something to present her captive reporter with, and you head out to find Suika and Mirai. You promised them a girls’ baking day, and who are you to deny the ones who have practically become your surrogate children? 

Minami comes to find you soon enough, clearly a bit sheepish. She seems to have realized the distance you’re keeping from her, and asks you why as she clutches the first draft of The Stone Observer. Glancing down at the paper in her hands, you’re relieved that her chat with Miharu must have gone decently well enough for her to be carrying this thing around like a comfort object. Still, you tell her the truth; you don’t like how she behaves around your friend, and she needs to get her shit together. You all but chew her out as you explain to her that while her grief is valid, she can’t be acting like this in Tsukasa’s name because it’s the kind of thing that would piss both of you off. You brought him into this mainly so that she’ll listen, but something tells you that she may have heeded your warning even if you hadn’t. 

With that decidedly out of the way, Minami fills you in on the details of her conversation with Miharu. It seems that the renaissance woman explained her reasoning behind saving Hyoga back then, and despite her deep emotional attachment to Tsukasa, Minami was able to find enough sense to placate her own misplaced anger a bit. That, and the fact that Miharu offered her a position at the brand new Senku News Network. She never asks the question word for word, but you know she wants your opinion on whether she should do it or not. 

And your answer is a vehement “hell yeah, get your ass out there.” The answer shouldn’t even be disputable. As frustrating as Minami has been lately, you don’t want to see anyone wallowing in their own grief, which is a rather rich notion coming from you. But pity parties are only alright when you throw them for yourself and you’re the only attendee; the girl deserves to do what she loves to take her mind off the loss she suffered. She leaves in a rather pensive mood, but you think you already know the choice she’s planning to make. 

You find out from an inexplicably miffed Asagiri Gen that Minami decided to take Miharu up on her offer the next day as he lazes around your kitchen in search of some scraps. The two of you have developed a rather complicated sort of friendship where you love to poke at each others’ shortcomings and indulge in some good old gossiping. More often than not Miharu joins in on your little shit-talking sessions, but today she’s occupied with something else. Gen mentions offhandedly that they’re planning to set off with the intent of reviving someone new tomorrow, but the name of the person they speak of doesn’t ring a bell. You simply shrug before returning to the dinner preparations. 

Imagine your surprise when the expedition team returns with a loud, enthusiastic former gyaru. If nothing else, Gyokunaha Komugi is a ball of personality. You don’t get to speak to her much when she first arrives, but she keeps sending these sharp glances your way before giggling to herself and whispering something to Miharu. It’s even weirder when Ryusui walks out of his room and immediately turns tail upon seeing her. Nanami Ryusui, who never backs down from a challenge, is somehow terrified by a cool Shibuya girl half his size. Something must really be off about this girl, but you can’t say you’re not intrigued. 

Miharu shuts the two in a room together for some negotiations, although it takes some convincing to get Ryusui alone with this person who seems to be his worst nightmare. When they finally emerge, he’s inexplicably pale, and Komugi immediately dashes right into a bright-red Kohaku and embraces her. The lioness’s face is now undeniably shoved against Komugi’s chest, and you and Miharu snicker because it’s now finally her turn to be attacked with love. Nobody moves faster than a lesbian who’s been petrified for a few millennia, after all. 

Komugi is subsequently bestowed a handmade guitar, a fact that excites her even more. Somehow she turns the gift into another opportunity to flatter Kohaku, and you finally realize what it must feel like to be on the outside looking in on you and Ryusui’s relationship — or lack thereof. Speaking of the man, he seems to be giving you the space you asked for (without verbally asking for it) and to your dismay you’re starting to miss the attention. You haven’t let yourself sit on that fact for more than a couple seconds because you know how shallow and disgusting it makes you sound. 

Your glance bounces from Kohaku and Komugi’s shyness and audacity respectively to Ryusui, who still seems a bit off-kilter following his discussion with the new girl. It’s so uncharacteristic for him that you find yourself worrying for the man you previously wished would leave you alone. But then he catches you looking and you quickly turn away, embarrassed, before pretending there’s a matter in the kitchen that immediately requires your attention. 

You figure that this new revival deserves a nice feast with a surplus of desserts. You’re kneading some rather primitive cookie dough when someone enters the room. You take a deep breath before turning around, knowing fully well who exactly you’re going to see. Ryusui sends you a lopsided smile, hands on his hips. “Can I help you with anything?” You ask, trying your hardest to remain casual, but you know he’s already noticed how his mere presence can knock you off your axis. 

“Nothing in particular.” He replies smoothly, approaching you in a manner that seems so casual despite clearly being entirely intentional. “I can’t come visit the most beautiful woman in the universe without having a reason?”

You open your mouth to respond to the hyperbolic compliment before closing it. You swallow, choosing your words carefully. “I just haven’t seen much of you lately.” You look down at your hands, sculpting a ball of cookie dough and flattening it out on a metal tray by way of avoiding his eyes. 

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want to. Was I wrong?” Damn, he caught you. You’re embarrassed that he was able to recognize what you were trying to do so easily, but it’s not as if you were going out of your way to hide your avoidant tendencies. It just feels like you don’t have the right to enjoy talking to him like this, like you don’t deserve for someone to treat you this way. 

You’re not sure of the best way to explain your problematic attachment style to him, so you simply shake your head. “You’re not wrong, but you’re not right either.” It’s a complete and total cop out. 

But at least he’s somewhat amused by it, because he laughs boisterously in that way of his.

“Quite the interesting answer. But I feel like you’ve got some questions you want to ask me. Am I wrong?” His gaze is sharp, scrutinizing. You feel like you have no choice but to tell the truth.

“You’re right this time. Who is this Komugi girl to you?” He seems somewhat surprised by your inquiry, and you can’t help but wonder what exactly he was expecting for you to ask. “My first thought was an ex-girlfriend, but I don’t think she swings that way.” It’s an understatement considering the way Komugi immediately ignored any man in the general vicinity and went straight for Kohaku like a sleeper agent activated by the sight of boobs. 

“She’s my cousin.” Ryusui answers matter of factly. Seriously? Komugi is very obviously part foreign like yourself, but her admixture is also evidently of a European nature. You end up staring at Ryusui for a bit, analyzing his (annoyingly perfect) features until things make sense. “Good question. Why, were you jealous before she swept Kohaku off her feet?” Now that you think about it, it’s kind of obvious. What kind of fully Japanese man has natural orangey-blond hair? If you were to theoretically have kids together, they’d have the best of all worlds —

“I didn’t say all that,” You answer quickly before your brain can keep spiraling on possibilities that are positively ridiculous considering you barely know the guy. “I was just curious. But she’s not a Nanami, is she?” It’s a question with a pretty self-explanatory answer considering Komugi’s last name is hopelessly Okinawan (although you’ve heard from Miharu that she prefers to just go by her given name like some sort of cool 2000s popstar) but you ask it anyway for the sake of diverting your mind from the humiliating thoughts of your own debauchery.

“Nope. We’re related on my dearly departed mother’s side.” Suddenly you feel terrible for prying too much into his family history considering the implication that his mom is fucking dead. Your unease must be written all over your countenance, for he chuckles before gently pressing a finger into your cheek. “Don’t make that face. She’s not dead, just… unaccounted for.” 

“Then why would you say —” Your eyebrows furrow as he brushes a thumb over your cheekbone, effectively derailing your already shaky train of thought. “Never mind. Is there any particular reason that you’re not a fan of Komugi’s?”

“Do you have any siblings, [Name]? Cousins?” He meets your question with one of his own, and you’re struck by how little he actually knows about you. So why the hell is he so certain that he wants you? It can’t be a love-at-first-sight thing, can it? 

“Nope. I’m an only child, and my titi never had any children.” You find yourself rambling for the sole purpose of the fact that he seems to be listening, his expression rapt whenever you open your mouth no matter how stupid your words may be. “She was basically my mom’s free babysitter, so I don’t think she ever wanted them anyways.” 

He tilts his head, a smile that borders on fond tugging at his lips as he lets his hand drop to his side. “Well, sometimes the only people who know exactly how to drive you clinically insane are your family.” As if remembering something (or someone) he shakes his head, a movement accompanied by a mirthful exhale. “Let’s just say that she knows exactly which buttons to press. But enough about me. Let’s get to the point. You’re avoiding me. Why?”

You blink sharply, but his expression remains unchanged. “I’m not avoiding you.” He raises his brows incredulously and you close your mouth. It seems more and more like you won’t be able to get any lies past him right now no matter how much you want to preserve your own dignity. “Maybe I am, but it’s not anything personal. It’s just —” You’re sure he certainly doesn’t want to hear about all your previous romance drama, so you resolve to keep your mouth shut for the present moment. “Yeah, it’s not anything personal.” And it’s not. You like his company, and although no one could make you admit this fact, you love his attention.

But you get the feeling that he knows this, and his next question is nothing more than an opportunity to hear the words straight from your mouth. “Then what is it, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I don’t mind. I’m not sure what exactly they’ve told you about the things that went down before you got here, but …” The events of the stone wars flash behind your eyelids as you pause, shutting your eyes for a beat. You can hear the click of the cryo chamber closing, feel the cold air escaping as a lifeless body lies within. Swallowing thickly, you open your eyes. “A lot happened. A lot that I’m still dealing with. I’m sorry that it manifested this way, but —”

“What are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything wrong.” His hand may have left your chin, but now he’s grabbed both of your shoulders, although his touch is just light enough to make you feel safe rather than suffocated. “Don’t act like you owe me your presence. It’s a privilege just to lay eyes on you, [Name]. Am I wrong?” There’s that smile again, that look in his eye that you’re still unable to place despite being well used to it by now. What the hell are you supposed to do when his every compliment stirs a dry heat at the bottom of the neverending pit in your abdomen?

“It feels narcissistic to answer that question. But I really do appreciate it.” You reply coyly, mainly because that warmth is threatening to burn a hole through your stomach lining. “I’m feeling a lot better now, so you don’t have to stay away from me if you don’t want to.” Your statement is far more truthful and even less nonchalant than you want it to be. Jesus, you might as well have just admitted to actually wanting him around you. How embarrassing. 

“Believe me, that’s the last thing I want,” His tone drops low despite it just being the two of you in the room, and you’re reminded of the almost conspiratorial way he whispered reverence into your ear as he brushed your hair away from your bare shoulders. Beautiful. Almost as if he meant it for you and you alone.  “So, does this mean you’re finally ready to rule the new world by my side?” Something twists within you, and you know once and for all that you absolutely need to be put down. 

“Once again, I didn’t say all that yet.” Yes, you need euthanasia quickly. Preferably before you embarrass yourself even further. 

“Yet, huh?” Too late, he already caught your slip up. Your cheeks are so flushed that you fear you might burn alive. Perhaps all you need do is touch the nearly forgotten cookies to bake them adequately with how flustered you are. “Alright then, how about we start with dinner.” 

You blink, stunned. Only Nanami Ryusui would have the utter audacity to ask you out right now. Still, you play dumb in a manner that you hope comes off more coquettish than completely-out-of-your-league. “Dinner? I’m cooking right now.” Kind of an incorrect classification considering the fact that you’re preparing to bake dessert.

“Not that kind of dinner. Just you and me.” And suddenly neither of you are concerned with semantics anymore, because he’s finally gotten around to popping the question. And to think it hasn’t even been a month since you reconnected. But still, someone’s got to make the food if you’re to share a meal together, and you don’t exactly take many nights off. You open your mouth to speak, but Ryusui addresses your concern before you can even say a word. “I know plenty of people who will be willing to cook, so don’t worry about that.”

You sigh, attempting to collect yourself so you can assume some image of poise.“Alright. Just dinner. When were you thinking?” You pray to any god that will listen that you seem smooth, like someone who has experience with this kind of thing. 

But alas, you don’t. In fact, the closest thing you have to any sort of experience is a kiss with a dying man. A dying man that practically begged you to move on. “Whenever you want. I’m always willing to spend time with an incredible beauty.” Ryusui tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, and there’s no way he hasn’t noticed how red you are. 

“You don’t have to flatter me like this. I’ve already agreed, you know.”  You gently push his hand away, making sure to leave little bite behind the action. Because to your own immense shame, you realize that it feels like you’ll die if he never touches you ever again. Luckily for you, he seems like he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon — not until you give in. And you’re dangerously close. 

“It’s not flattery if it’s the genuine truth.” And is the ghostlike touch of his thumb over your bottom lip a coincidence or fate? You know the way you’re looking up at him now must be utterly pathetic, but you’re too busy staring into his eyes to care. Then, he leans in, and your brain suddenly feels like it’s full of cotton. Everyone wants to kiss you these days, don’t they? Your lips part as he gets even closer, stopping just before your mouths meet. Then, he smiles, so near to you that you can feel the stretch against your face. “I’ll let you get back to your cookies. See you at dinner, [Name].”  He speaks practically against your lips. It takes everything in you not to literally swoon as you watch him leave.  Nanami Ryusui is incredibly dangerous, indeed, because when he wants something he gets it. You didn’t believe that this notion applied to everything, even in the new world, until it made its way to you, but it is undeniably true. 

With your dinner plans in place for the incredibly near future, the efforts for the great Soyuz recovery expedition continue chugging along. Senku gets the insane but very Senkulike idea to construct a hot air balloon and survey the land in search of the oil everyone wants to get their hands on. And with how desperately they seem to be fiending for that sweet liquid gold, they might as well call themselves the U.S. military. But that’s a digression on your part; everyone pitches in for the construction effort. 

Of course, Yuzuriha is best suited for the task of whipping up the fabric for the balloon. You, Miharu, and Gen help her out with the whole hemp-to-cloth-to-linen process so the others on the science team can focus on the basket that’s actually going to hold all the passengers. And with all her newfound supplies, the young seamstress is able to finally open her own stone world boutique. You can’t help but think of how great a clothing store will be for the economy, although all of you know that Yuzuriha isn’t doing this for the Dragos. She genuinely loves making clothes and the joy that gifting them to others spreads. What a shame that the rest of you aren’t nearly as altruistic. 

Speaking of people who are less than trustworthy at times, Gen and Miharu seem to have been conspiring about something lately that they don’t appear too keen to let you in on. It’s not as if you need to know about every single conversation they have (in fact, quite the opposite, especially considering the numerous instances during which they sneak away and return separately yet equally disheveled) but no one likes being left out by their friends. By the time you resolve to just stop third-wheeling and go find your other single friends, the two finally pull you aside to let you know they’re planning on organizing a little fashion show. 

You simply shrug. It’s a nice idea, although you’re not quite sure what it has to do with you. Despite being in the position to really rake in the dough if you want to, you don’t have much motivation to earn or spend Dragos yourself. You can make your own novelty food if you want it so bad, so it isn’t as if you’re throwing money at that kind of thing. And you’re perfectly fine with the outfit Yuzuriha so lovingly crafted for you when you were first revived, although you wouldn’t mind buying a piece or two from the boutique just to support your friend. 

But something about the grin on Gen’s face tells you that his intentions behind staging this little catwalk aren’t as benign as they may seem. You decide to give him the benefit of the doubt for the sole reason that you don’t have the energy to deal with any scheming right now. He tells you he’s off to look for some models before beelining straight to Miharu. Whatever discussion the two of them strike up quickly turns a bit PG-13, so you turn away before the situational rating can escalate to R and then inevitably X. You don’t make it more than a few steps towards your place before almost slamming directly into Nanami Ryusui’s chest. 

“There you are. Look at you.” He snaps while grinning down at you, his canines peeking out. “You look incredible.” 

Still feeling a bit off after witnessing Gen’s scheming, you reply quickly and sardonically. “I don’t look any different than I normally do.” And it’s true. If anything, you probably look worse today than normal because you’ve been helping Yuzuriha all day, and your hair is almost certainly frizzy.

“You’re right. You’re exquisite every day, aren’t you?” He compliments, and you swallow thickly. You’re still not sure how exactly he expects you to reply to such self-assured statements, especially not when you don’t believe them yourself. 

You settle for a sigh, gesturing in the direction of your room. “Ryusui, I’m in the middle of something.” That something being getting back home to grab your things for a nice midday shower. You don’t allow yourself much respite, but of course the finest specimen in the stone world had to catch you the one time you planned to slack off. 

Although it doesn’t seem like he’s judging you, and you’re just overthinking things again. As always. Jesus, you can’t even flirt normally without hating yourself. “Are you? What a shame.” You settle for a nod, not trusting yourself to provide a coherent answer right now. “I happen to be taking a break for lunch, and this may be the only time I’ll be able to talk to you today.”

“Then you can talk to me when we get dinner.” It comes out almost like you’re trying to play hard to get. But you aren’t, you just think that you need a few business days to prepare for one-on-one time with Nanami Ryusui. Because it’s only been a handful of minutes and you already feel like you’re going to combust in his presence. All of this has you feeling like you need to be put down mercifully like an old pet, so you run away from the conversation like you’ve gotten good at doing lately, and you take a shower. Then you dry off, get dressed, and braid your hair. And after that, you finish dinner, and then you eat alongside everyone else. And the whole time, there is only one person on your mind. 

You wish there was a way to surgically remove the part of yourself that experiences these feelings, because everything is just too much. Ryusui is sending you glances across the fire, and it’s getting even harder to ignore the way your brain is thinking without your consent. You duck back into the kitchen to clean up, praying that no one notices your departure. 

Unfortunately, a certain someone has followed you like your sneaky shadow. “Delicious eal-may, [Name]-chan.” Asagiri Gen stares at the tub of dirty dishes you’re washing right now, but notably does nothing to help you work through them. “I love that you can find so many unique things to do with the ame-say ingredients.” 

Still a bit frustrated by your recent one-track mind, you unwittingly snap at your mentalist friend. “If you’ve got something to say to me, then just say it.” You immediately feel bad as soon as the words leave your mouth, but Gen doesn’t seem offended. 

In fact, he simply laughs your statement off as if it’s nothing more than a futile swipe of claws through the air by a house cat. “You caught me, so orry-say.” Silently relieved, you raise your eyebrows as permission for him to continue. “What do you say to the idea of becoming an odel-may?” 

You snort, placing a cracked cup into the clean-but-wet dishes basket. “Me? Model? You’re funny.” He’s uncharacteristically silent for a moment, and when you glance up he’s observing you with a completely unreadable expression. Damn mentalist. “You’re not joking.”

“Ot-nay in the slightest.” His eyes close when he smiles, and you know that for once he’s as serious as a heart attack. You do feel bad to shut down an opportunity like this, but everyone here knows that crowds aren’t your thing. You hate having so many sets of eyes on you; one of many of your shortcomings that would make you a terrible empress. If only everyone else around you would get the damn hint. “I figured it was orth-way a shot.” Then he leaves without another word, but not before taking the now full clean dishes basket to leave out to dry. Well, if he’s going to suggest throwing you into your own personal hell the least he can do is help you out a bit. 

You should’ve figured that Asagiri Gen was planning something. When is he not ever planning something? You should’ve known that it was out of character for him to accept defeat so easily. You’re all but accosted the next day by the mentalist in question, Miharu, Yuzuriha, Minami, and Komugi. All of whom are trying to really hammer home the point that they’re short one [Name]-shaped model. Their pestering eventually wins out, although you’re mainly won over by the fact that Yuzuriha seems to think that you’re the perfect specimen for one dress in particular. Although she hasn’t shown the design to you, you’re hardly in any position to let down the woman who’s currently carrying the fashion scene on her back. But perhaps you’re just telling yourself all this so you don’t have to admit to being manipulated by Asagiri Gen’s scheming. 

Not to mention the fact that before you can even dwell on what you agreed to for a bit, Komugi swiftly pulls you aside to discuss the prospective playlist for the fashion show. As much as you enjoy talking about music with someone who has a similar taste to yours, you can’t exactly ignore the notion that everyone has quite literally just played in your face. Still, you don’t find yourself minding as Komugi casually tunes her guitar and you tease her about her newfound obsession with Kohaku. Unfortunately, your pokes are a little bit less effective with someone as confident as Komugi, because she simply agrees with you that she’s unabashedly in love with your resident lioness. Then she immediately goes on to relentlessly needle you about your relationship with the man that you now know is her cousin, so you regret your audacity pretty damn quickly. 

On the evening of your runway debut, it takes everything in you not to listen to your cold feet and run in the opposite direction. The idea of strutting the catwalk in front of quite literally almost every person alive right now is making you increasingly nauseous because you’re just genuinely not in the mood to be perceived today. In all honesty, you’re about to find a cozy cave and curl up in there for another thousand years until you see Suika cross the stage. And despite clearly being nervous, she looks absolutely adorable. You realize that if Suika can do it, then you can too, and you are way too old to be deliberating over what people think about you. 

Your anxiety leads to you being a bit shaky on your feet, but you manage to cross the runway in a gorgeous white backless dress that Yuzuriha stated was inspired by the shape of your body. You almost certainly could never afford something like this and you wouldn’t dare ask Yuzuriha to keep something she worked so hard on, so you suppose it’s only smart to savor the time you have wearing this beautiful garment. 

You tuned out the entire audience while you were on stage — you knew damn well that if you were to perceive them you’d pass out in front of everyone — but you’re quickly made aware of the fact that a certain someone was watching. Because a good handful of bags from Yuzuriha Couture promptly make their way to your makeshift dressing room. You’re already taken aback by the sheer amount of clothes that Nanami Ryusui has bought for you, but you’re almost completely knocked off your axis when you arrive home to see too many shopping bags to count on your doorstep. And alongside the bags, a bouquet of flowers with a note in well-refined, masculine cursive. “I meant it when I said you’re exquisite every day. Only the best for you. See you at dinner.”  Dinner. The very one planned for tonight. And you’ve got to figure out what to wear to uphold this image he seems to have of you.

Looking through these bags for something appropriate is akin to finding a needle in a haystack. They’re all chock-full to the brim — all except one. That particular bag is home to only a familiar white dress, and as you unfurl it you realize it’s the exact one you wore as you walked the runway. You slip back into it before running your fingers through your long waves until they no longer get caught in your tangles. You’re just about to head out when your eyes land upon some pretty white flowers amidst your bouquet. You settle for a white camellia because of how its hue matches your gown, tucking it behind your ear. With that, you head out for your first ever date in the stone world. Or ever, really.

***

For what it’s worth, Ryusui does manage to get someone else to cook for the two of you. And he’s got a whole ass set up out here with a table and chairs and a beautiful view of the river. Some Dragos can go a long way it seems, for he’s even co-opted some of Tsukasa’s strongest soldiers to serve you food and keep your wine refilled, and refilled it stays. He compliments your dress, telling you that you look beautiful. Then his eyes land on the flower you wove into your hair and he reaches out, brushing fingertips over it. “Hmm. Excellent choice.” You’re confused for a moment before you remember your brief studies on hanakotoba. And since this is a white camellia, that means —

Whatever. It wasn’t intentional, so it doesn’t matter. And as you eat and get progressively tipsier, your nerves seem to melt away. While previously just being in Ryusui’s vicinity made you clam up, you’re now able to keep up with his banter easily and accept the insane amount of compliments thrown your way with immense grace. Or so your slightly impaired brain seems to believe. The two of you talk about anything and everything, eventually landing back on your prior interactions in the old world. “So, what made you so willing to help me? It’s not like Berkley was paying for it.” Nothing like a little bit of liquid courage to aid in your first-date-slash-interrogation. 

“That’s simple. It’s something I desired to do, so I did it.” You chew your bottom lip, and it seems like despite your newfound confidence you’re still not completely unphased by his unique way of speaking. He really does want everything this new world has to offer, so his tendency to veer towards the hyperbolic shouldn’t be surprising.

“It must be nice to be able to live like that.” Because nothing he says is really an overstatement. Hyperboles lose all meaning when spoken by one who can and will get everything he so desires. Perhaps you were secretly hoping that he saw you and fell in love at first sight like he claims, and that’s what drove him to be so willing to spearhead your expedition. It’s wishful thinking, because all men lie. And you don’t even mean it in the social media buzzword way; it’s the complete truth. “It’s done a lot of good for you though, hasn’t it?” This world comes easy to those who know how to take what they think they deserve. But what happens once these things come into his possession?

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t be such a good sailor if I never fought for the things that I wanted.” The way he smiles at you makes you cross your legs under the table. You’re embarrassed — no, you’re mortified, because you know that he wants you; that much is practically obvious to someone even as dense as yourself. So, what’s going to happen to you now? “What about you, [Name]? What do you want?” His knee nudges yours. Your skin feels like it's on fire. What is going to happen once you give in?

“I feel like that’s a loaded question,” Your voice comes out shaky, prompting him to raise an eyebrow. You swallow to steady yourself before continuing. “But I’m not sure. I guess for everyone to be happy? That’s why I want to help everyone with science. To improve our quality of life so we can live contentedly.” You’re practically rambling, but you know there’s not much meaning behind what you’re saying. It’s the most generic answer you could’ve ever offered but it's the bonafide truth because you know that lying to Ryusui won’t get you anywhere. 

“There’s nothing you want for yourself?” Perhaps he can see right through you. It certainly feels that way considering the way he’s looking at you now. What happens once you give in? You can’t do this right now, or ever, you most certainly cannot — “It’s alright to be a little selfish every now and again.”  Then, a warm hand on your bare knee. You shiver. 

Then you shake your head, giving up completely on assuming a nonchalant demeanor. “That is what I want for myself.” 

“But [Name], you don’t really care if you’re happy or not. Not as long as they are.” His thumb gently strokes your kneecap, and you never thought that such a strange touch would feel so intimate. It feels like you’re creeping dangerously close to the point of no return and the worst thing is that it doesn’t provoke any fear in you anymore. “You’ll overextend yourself if it preserves others’ feelings. Am I wrong?” Or maybe, alcohol is simply a dangerous thing. You giggle to yourself at just how on the nose he is right now. Are all men this intuitive when they want to get in your pants? It isn’t as if you would know. 

“I never thought about it before.” You settle on a snarky response once your fit of giggles subsides. “Geez, Ryusui, I signed up for a dinner date, not a psychoanalysis.” It’s your turn to nudge his leg with your own, although notably not the one his hand currently rests upon. 

“So this is a date to you.” His fingers tap against your skin rhythmically. But once you realize what he’s saying, you finally knock him away with an almost reflexive kick. Who the hell told him you’re fluent in Morse code? Flustered, you down the rest of your drink in one fell swoop, because the last thing you want to do right now is agree to something in haste. No matter how attractive the offer or its offerer may be. You should’ve never learned that stupid language with its dots and dashes and —

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You cough, wiping your mouth after decidedly almost choking on the wine in your eagerness to get more alcohol in you. 

The grin on his face is almost smug, and you know you’ve effectively walked right into his trap. The notion is just as mortifying as every other realization you’ve had today, but perhaps you wanted to be ensnared in this particular situation. “Is it safe to say you’re finally done avoiding me, then?” 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You lean forward, resting on your elbows in a way that is hardly ladylike. “But can you blame me, Ryusui? It’s hard to be around you sometimes. I never know what you’re going to say or how I’m going to react to you.” Your knees are pressed against his own, your finger drawing lazy circles upon the surface of the freshly made table for the sole purpose of having something to do. “It’s scary.” 

He’s quiet for a moment in a way that is so uncharacteristic that you are afraid you’ve said something horribly wrong. But then, he grabs your hand, and you sit up. “I never meant to make you afraid of me.” Despite everything else he says typically being boasted at maximum volume, his voice is quiet and earnest. 

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what I’ll say to you.” He stands up slowly, dropping your hand, and you’re unsure of what exactly he’s going to do. What if he kisses you? Oh, God, what if? The fact that the thought fills you with liquid heat makes you want to die. To say nothing of the images that run through your mind, your face pressed against this wooden table, his hand in your hair pushing you — “Like right now. I should probably shut up.” At once you want to slam your head against the table over and over again until there’s not a thought left in your brain, and not even in the fun way you were just imagining. You are getting so terribly ahead of yourself. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice is still quiet, although his tone has dropped an octave lower than normal which is certainly saying something. He places a hand on the surface beside you, leaning over you in a way that provokes a sense of vertigo. “Go on, beautiful. Tell me how you think you’ll react to me.”

And something possesses you to gently grab his hand, guiding it to the left side of your chest so he can feel the way your heart pounds against your ribcage. “Like this.” Your blood is pumping so fast that everything feels like it’s swimming through thick, hot air. You’re flushed from your cheeks to the top of your chest, and you know he’s noticed. You should probably leave now before you do and say anything you’ll most certainly regret, with his palm just centimeters away from —

Here you are, proving your own point. When he’s touching you, you start to lose your rationality. And combined with the alcohol in your veins, any sense of shame remaining in your body is slowly slipping away. His hand slides up, thumb gently brushing your collarbone. Then further still, to the column of your throat. He could squeeze if he wanted to, deprive you of air right here, but instead he takes your chin once more as he leans over you. “You seem tired, [Name]. Let me walk you home.” The words are almost spoken against your lips, and all at once you want to finish what exactly the two of you started when he asked you out in the first place. 

And if he were to take you home, what then? It’s not as if you can invite him into your shared room. Perhaps you should ask to go to his? No, what the hell is wrong with you? This is not something you should concern yourself with right now, not with the life of someone you love at stake. “Going home would probably be a good idea.” He pulls away reluctantly, taking your hand to help you up. And for once, you don’t run away, allowing your fingers to remain interlaced with his for the entirety of the walk back to your place. 

And even though you can’t invite him in, you give him a hug goodbye. He organized all of this for you after all, and you feel bad that you don’t have much else to offer him. You’re intoxicated enough to let this fact slip, laughing just a few centimeters away from his face as you remain caught in his embrace. So much for a short farewell hug. He murmurs something about it never being a chore to dine with someone as beautiful as yourself, but you’ve already decided what it is that you want right now, prompted by his earlier statements. 

So, yes, you kiss Nanami Ryusui right outside of your house. It was going to happen eventually, and you feel like you’ve graduated past the point of shame for the moment. And perhaps you didn’t run away on the walk home, but upon pulling away and seeing his expression you panic. You whisper a hasty goodbye before running into your room with the sound of his loud and fond laughter at your back. 

a/n: ya we made ryusui mixed. everyone is mixed bitch it’s the 90s. jk but like.. come on now we don’t know who is mama is his brother mixed he could be anything. hope you enjoyed this will be on ao3 eventually but i’m on #Vacation (i still have hella assignments) so talk to yall next friday!!